Note: Heh… A tiny bit of Bradley's past revealed here. Oh! The excitement!

It's a long chapter (at least I think it is) so I'll probably scare everyone away with this. It's all good, anyhow, because like my high school history/english teacher and mentor, Greg Bradshaw says, "When you want to get your movies reviewed correctly, get rid of the riff-raff first. That way all the true artisans will stick around 'till the end, and only their opinions truly matter. Not that anyone's opinions should matter to you, but that's a whole 'nother story…."

Oh, and about the small stint below: What it's referring to is something that happened in the previous chapter, but was not shown. I tried to make it a bit obvious as to when and where it happened. It's also very short so it won't take much time away from the current chapter, and most of the time it'll be comedic (at least in my eyes...).

Think of it as a sort of parody to Colonel Marksman's format/writing style. We've developed a sort of friendly rivalry during the past few days, so this is my little jab to poke fun of him (not in a offensive way, of course).

Here's Chapter 3. Please be gentle…

Fermi re-entered the Section One offices, just as the three American Officers rounded the hallway corner.

"Ok guys, you can relax now," He announced to the bustling room, "The General's gone."

The air in the room instantly became dense and musky, the result of everyone simultaneously breathing a gigantic sigh of relief at the same moment.

"Jesus Christ!" A random employee gasped for air, "I've never worked so hard in all my life!"

Life, Liberty, And…

A Gunslinger Girl fan fiction by:

Sintendo

Chapter Three: Inspections (Part 2)

The Social Welfare Agency: General Nowell's Quarters, Rome, Italy; 0000 hours, June 15, 2005

(Bradley: First Person)

I sat at the edge of my bed holding my head in my hands. Something in the back of my mind kept gnawing away at my thoughts; something strange and foreboding in feeling. Almost like a supernatural being was trying to escape from within my cranium.

Suddenly the image of my children and my wife flashed before me. For the first time in years, I became homesick. I wanted to leave this place and sleep next to my wife. I wanted to play with my little girls. I wanted to talk to my grown up boys.

"This place is changing you, old man," I said as I fiddled around with my cell phone, "You're turning to a bitch…."

It should be about 6 am in Tokyo; my wife would be up by now.

"Mushimushi, Nowell desu." a soft, angelic voice came from my phone's earpiece.

"Kasumi," I began, "It's me."

"Brad!" She nearly yelled, "Why haven't you called? I was worried about you!" She spoke in English

"I'm sorry, hon, but I didn't have time. You know the deal."

"Yeah, I do." She knew the procedures that I had to go through. After all, Top secret matters aren't in her jurisdiction. "So how's Italy? Is it too hot? It must be 12 o'clock in the morning there. What's the matter?"

"Nothing's wrong." I lied, "I'm just having a small bout of insomnia… how are the kids? Has Nana recovered from her cold yet?" I tried changing the subject.

"She's fine now."

Kasumi and I spent the next hour discussing what had happened during the few days after I left Afghanistan. Weather it was my eldest daughter getting her driver's license, or my youngest son getting dumped by his girlfriend, Kasumi told me everything. Things that normal children should do…

I thought about that girl named Claes. The wasted potential, from what I heard from Percy.

I imagined her as a sad looking girl sitting in her room all day by herself, without anyone to talk to for hours at a time while she could have be doing something useful for the Section Two, besides being a human guinea pig.

I nearly dry heaved at the thought that just came to my head; I actually wished that Claes, this 12 year old girl, would go out and…kill. I remembered that I even scolded Marco for not trying hard enough to get Angelica back into tip-top shape.

And that's when I realized something; I wasn't only worrying about Claes, but about all the cyborgs. It had been under my nose all this time, but now I realize how wrong, how immoral this agency is. It disgusted me to no end.

"Kasumi." I interrupted her.

"What is it?"

"Kasumi I…I gotta go," I lied again, "I… tell the Kids that I love them."

"I will," She responded, "Tell Percival to take care of himself. I love you."

"I love you too…." My voice trailed off.

Later

After P.T., I returned to my room to change my clothes. My uniform, neatly laid out on my bed, was a wearable record of my achievements during my service in the Army.

A ribbon for serving in Kosovo, another for Iraq, a pair for South Korea and the 37th parallel; these were only a few of the dozens of ribbons that I wore. Each and every one carefully placed into their respective positions.

However, with the war games scheduled for later this afternoon, I decided that fatigues were more appropriate than a crisp, clean uniform.

After slipping into my camouflage, I gazed upon a pair of revolvers that I had placed on top of my dresser. Each was inserted into their respective holsters.

One was a Taurus Raging Bull, chambered for .454 Casull rounds, and modified to have 6 cylinders instead of the regular 5. The other was an Italian made Mateba Model 6 Unica Auto-Revolver, also chambered for .454 Casull rounds. Its semi-automatic mechanism was its most recognizable feature, followed by its barrel resting in front of the bottom cylinder, rather than the top, which gave it significantly less recoil than any other pistol. The pair of "mini howitzers", as my sons would call them, lived up to their nick-names; the recoil on both revolvers would literally force me to take a step back after firing.

Both were given to me by my foster mother before she disappeared into thin air.

I kneeled before firearms and bowed to the floor.

"Master," I whispered, "Please guide me…"

The Social Welfare Agency: Training Grounds, Rome, Italy; 1145 hours, June 15, 2005

"I must say, Lorenzo," I told the sweaty Section Two Chief as we roamed the training grounds, "You're offices are in an impressive condition comparable to that of Section One. Excellent work."

I knew I hurt Chief Dragi as I said this, but it happened to be the truth. Still, the Section One Chief held his head proudly.

"Thank you, General." Lorenzo nearly bowed to me.

Dragi gave a small "tsk." of disapproval.

"Even so," I heard Rei from behind, "Section Two's offices are significantly smaller than Section One's, which is why you received such a high score. It's also a nothing short of a miracle that the small number of Agents you employ can handle such workloads, especially considering that a dozen of your Agents simply walked out on you yesterday. I don't think that they'll last long, given the current circumstances."

"I agree," Percival said, "The morale of your personnel is very important to any agency, and should be your priority. You should try to improve upon this."

I could tell that Lorenzo's mood suddenly fell into a depressed state, but he kept his posture and continued walking.

As we neared a very dull looking, bullet riddled building; I heard the ever familiar sounds of children chatting amongst themselves. It was as normal as a playground during recess at any middle school.

I felt homesick again.

After Lorenzo had led the four of us inside, the source of the voices was revealed. Inside what looked like a locker room, stood 8 men, and 8 children, fully dressed in gray urban camouflage combat gear.

Curiously, a pair of children and a man sat by themselves near the entrance of the room, dressed in normal civilian clothes. I instantly recognized one of them as "Naldo", the sleepy-head. I assumed that the man was Naldo's Handler, and that the girl reading a nicely sized book was Claes. To my surprise, she appeared neither sad nor depressed, but was rather deeply involved in the book she was reading.

The sight of her enjoying her book around a squad of armed soldiers was rather ghastly. I almost admired her look of ignorance; it was like a beam of light shining through dark clouds.

"General," Lorenzo took my attention away from the girl, "Meet the heart and soul of Section Two."

The soldiers stood at attention and saluted.

"As you were," I said, "I've already met with most of you here, so I'll keep it short. I'm Major General Nowell, I'll be evaluating your performance today; so make sure you do absolute best."

"Yes, General!" They replied, returning to whatever it was they were doing.

"Come this way, General," Lorenzo said, "We'll watch from the observation room. We'll be able to see and hear everything from there."

As Lorenzo led us (a group that now included Claes, Naldo and his Handler) out of the room, I heard a familiar voice shout from behind.

"WE'LL WIN THIS ONE FOR YOU PERCY!" It was Baldo, "I'LL FILL 'EM WITH LEAD-er…PAINT! I'LL FILL 'EM WITH PAINT!"

Inside the observation room

The observation room was a bit cramped for my tastes; the entire wall ahead was completely filled to the brim with security monitors, a handful of computer chairs were stationed at the control board, and there was barley enough room for me to stand with both arms extended to my sides.

"The objective of this training exercise," Lorenzo spoke through a microphone to the battle ready teams, who received the message through their own headsets, "Is to eliminate the opposing team of 8 in as little time as possible. The setting is a five story office complex. Each team consists of the following Fratello:

In team one, we have: Marco/Angelica, Jean/Rico, Jose/Henrietta, and as team captains, Hillshire/Triela. You will start at the roof of the building.

In team two, we have: Savio/Enzo, Lawrence/Dario, Raffaello/Ignazio, and as team captains, Beneditto/Baldasarre. You will start at the entrance to the first floor.

To make things fair, you each have been equipped M16A1 carbines, modified to fire special neon green paint cartridges. This is a one-hit-kill exercise, so once you have been hit, report to your leader via radio and lay where you are; your equipment will be up for grabs. You each begin with only three 20 round magazines and three flash-bang grenades, so ammo will be scarce. We'll begin in 5." The General nodded at me, as if to expect some sort of praise.

"Is this normal training, or are you putting a show for me?" I asked.

"Well, I," I could tell Lorenzo was caught off guard, "we… have these sort of exercises a few times a month, General. You just happened across one of those times."

"I see."

"I think he's just trying to put on a show for us, General," Percival whispered to me in Japanese, "I don't think this is normal training; it's too expensive and time consuming. I seriously doubt that all 9 active Fratello frequently have the time to train together like this."

"I agree, General," Rei did the same, "but I am curious to see how these cyborgs operate in combat."

"I'd like to see them in action as well. Let Lorenzo have his moment for now."

"Excuse me, General." Lorenzo interrupted, "I don't believe you've met with Aurelio and his cyborg yet."

Lorenzo motioned for the muscular agent to come forward.

""I've met with Naldo yesterday," I said, "but I haven't met with Aurelio." I extended my hand, "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Was all the man said. He challenged me by gripping my hand as tight as possible. I responded by doing the same.

"Quite a grip you have there." I said.

After effectively cracking every knuckle in my hand, Aurelio went back to his seat next to Naldo. I smiled to myself, noticing the grimace he had on his face.

My attention wandered to the girl that sat next to Naldo, still reading her book.

"Hello there," I said as I approached her, "You must be the bookworm, Claes." I extended my tendered hand to her.

The girl closed her book and placed it on her lap, "That I am, General. It's a pleasure to meet you." She received my hand.

"Her hand's soft," I thought to myself as I examined her hand, "Not like a soldier's hands. No calluses. No cuts or bruises…."

"If you don't mind, General," She said, "I'd like to have my hand back, please?"

"Excuse me." I apologized.

"General," Percy called out to me, "The training is about to start."

(Team two)

"The layout of the building is pretty simple," Enzo said, "A single staircase on the west side is the only way to get to the upper floors. Each floor, besides the first, has a maze of cubicles in the center, and a set of hallways located at the south and east area. It's a simple office building."

"Ok guys, here's the deal," Beneditto said, "We know their strengths, so we'll have to exploit their weaknesses. Jean and Rico like to stay in the distance; Jose and Henrietta are the stealthy ones, and Hillshire and Triela love to ride shotgun."

"And what about Marco and Angelica?" Savio asked.

"No problems there," Baldo said, "They're the weakest, so we can pick them off at anytime."

"Right," Beneditto agreed, "Chances are they'll be sidelined to the rear. The rest will split up by Fratello. What we're doing is something that nobody would expect. We all split up and engage separately. It's unconventional, but it'll work in this situation."

"Very unconventional," Nacho commented, "I like it. It'll catch them off guard."

"We'll crush them!" Baldo shouted, " Like bugs!"

"Alright then gents," Beneditto cocked his carbine, "Safeties off and check you gear, we move out in one minute."

(Team One)

"Rico, how accurate are you without your scope?" Hillshire asked the girl.

"I'm very good without the scope on my Dragunova, sir," She replied, "Using an M16 should have the same results."

"Good, you and Jean provide support for Triela and me from the rear. Jose, you and Henrietta scout ahead for targets. Stay low like always, and report before you engage."

"Understood." Jose said.

"Marco…," Hillshire trailed off. He knew the condition that Angelica was in, so his mind went black when it came to giving them a position.

"We'll provide support for Jean and Rico," Marco said, much to the disappointment of Angelica, "We won't be seeing much action from the rear, so we'll be out of the way."

"Right," Hillshire reluctantly agreed, "Everyone check your gear. We move out in one minute."

Bradley, Percival, and Rei sat at the helm of the observation room. Lorenzo and Dragi wanted them to have an optimal view of each monitor and, apparently unknown to the Americans, they wanted to peek over their shoulders to read the notes that they were writing on their tablets.

Much to their dismay, they were writing in Japanese.

"Shall we begin, General?" Lorenzo asked.

"By all means go on ahead, Chief." Bradley replied.

Lorenzo took hold of a microphone installed on the control desk, "This exercise begins in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… NOW!"

Immediately both teams sprung into action, utilizing the plans that they had made before-hand. The flurry of activity was available on every monitor.

In team one, Jose and Henrietta were the first into the building, with the rest of the team sitting put and waiting in place. Seconds later, the rest of team one rushed inside the building, with Jose and Henrietta scouting the rooms ahead.

Team two, however, took a radically different approach. Upon entering the building, each member of the team went their separate ways.

Bradley looked for familiar faces in the hundreds of monitors before him. He saw Baldo helping Enzo climb into an air duct, then running off into another direction. Nacho was sprinting past the security cameras located on the second floor, it was nearly impossible to keep up with him using the stationary cameras.

Dario was caught on the outside cameras of the building scaling the walls, eventually breaking through a window on the 4th floor. He opened fire upon entrance.

A storm of confusion began pouring out of the radio in the observation room.

"Hillshire, this is Jose," He said, "Henrietta and I are down, repeat: Henrietta and I are down."

"I-I made a mistake, Jose," Henrieta began to weep, "I got a little overzealous…."

"It's not your fault, Henrietta," Jose sat on the floor, "I got a little too excited and didn't pace myself."

Bradley focused on one of the security monitors; he saw Dario plucking the equipment off of his victims.

"I got two of them on the 4th floor," Dario was heard saying, "It's Henrietta and Jose, so the rest of the team should be near here or above."

"Everyone head to the 5th floor, pronto! We'll block them off before they can spread out!" Beneditto said, receiving a "Yes sir." from the rest of the team.

"Dammit!" Hillshire was heard saying, "Marco, Angelica front and center now! Jean and Rico move up a little bit and provide better cover for the 4 of us."

Marco and Angelica immediately complied with Hillshire's orders. Upon reaching Hillshire's position, Angelica fired her weapon.

"Cease fire!" Marco said, "What do you think you're doing!"

"I got one!" Angelica nearly screamed for joy, "Marco look!" She pointed straight ahead at a boy getting ready to sit down.

"Good," Hillshire said, "Let's move forward. Jean, Rico, take his equipment."

"Sir Beneditto, I'm down." It was Dario.

"Everyone relocate to the 4th floor!" Beneditto ordered.

Bradley sat at the edge of his seat; such fast paced action could not be observed by sitting back. He listened intently to the radio chatter, and he scanned each monitor for any movement. He was mesmerized by the clockwork actions of each Fratello from team one, and the precision and speed of each member of team two.

"Report your locations!" Beneditto asked. He was located in one of the offices of the 3rd floor.

"I'm at the 4th floor, sir," Savio said, I just got done sweeping the cubicles."

"So am I." Nacho said.

"Lawrence and I are on our way," Rafaello said, "we're on the staircase and just climbed passed the door to the 3rd floor."

"I'm on the staircase at the 5th floor, sir," Baldo said, "Should I engage?"

"Find a hiding place," Beneditto said, "Where's Enzo?"

"I'm already at the 5th floor, sir," Enzo said as he peered through the air ducts, "I can see them. They're on their way down." As team one passed his position, Enzo noticed a body at the far end of the hall way. "Hey Dario," He whispered, "Having fun?"

They boy laughed as Dario raised his middle finger.

"Good, you and Baldo wait for my signal," Beneditto exiting the office to work his way up the building, "We'll flank 'em when the time is right."

Before entering the staircase to head to the 4th floor, Hillshire motioned for his team to halt.

"They're planning something." He said.

"Why do you think that, sir?" Triela asked.

"Dario was alone," Hillshire said, "This doesn't feel right. Everyone split up, and engage separately. We'll play their little game…."

"Roger that." Jean said, leaving first and returning to the roof. Rico headed in the opposite direction and climbed into an air duct. Triela ran forward and disappeared into past the door to the staircase. Marco and Angelica, however, hesitated to move out.

"What are you two doing?" Hillshire asked, "Move out!"

"Roger that, sir," Marco said, "Stay out of trouble, Angelica. It's better that you hide instead of fighting head on with the other team."

"Yes sir." The girl said before running off.

"Something weird is going on," Baldo said, his ear placed on the office door he was hiding behind, "It sounds like they're going off in separate directions…."

"Jean just went back to the roof!" Enzo reported.

"They're on to us!" Beneditto shouted, "Everyone stay where you are and find a place to hide!"

Beneditto flinched as he heard a string gunfire coming from the door ahead of him.

"I'm out," It was Rafaello, "Sorry guys, Triela got me."

"Where's Lawrence?" Beneditto asked.

"I'm out too, sir," Lawrence gasped, "That girl is good."

"Dammit! She's headed in my direction!" suddenly a flash-bang explosion, followed by flurry of gun shots was heard during Beneditto's radio transmission.

"Beneditto?" Baldo called out to his Handler, "What happened? You okay?"

After a moment of silence, Beneditto spoke, "I can't see shit!"

"Beneditto!" Baldo called out again, "What happened?"

"Triela tried to sneak up on him," Nacho reported, "I got her though. Come on, sir; let's get you out of here."

"Regroup at the 3rd floor!" Beneditto ordered. "Enzo stay where you are!"

"Hillshire, they got me." Triela said as she sat down.

"It's all right, Triela." Hillshire said. Another burst of gunfire was heard, this time above from where Hillshire was locatred. "Report!"

"I just took out Enzo," Rico said, "He was in the air ducts on the 5th floor."

"Good job, Rico," Hillshire complemented, "Make sure you get his gear."

"Yes sir."

Each team's plans were now drastically altered. Team two wanted to regroup, while team one tried to spread out; the complete opposite of what each team had planned beforehand.

Back in the observation room, Percival and Rei were furiously writing notes on their tablets. However, this sudden turn of events perked Bradley's interests.

"Lorenzo," The General spoke, still keeping his eyes fixed on the monitors, "Are you sure that you hold this sort of training exercise often? It seems to me that their plans are going awry, almost like they've never encountered something like this before."

"Uh," The Chief began, "I think it's because they're pushing themselves to show off for you, General."

"I see." Bradley continued listening to the conversations on the radio, and watching the action on the monitors.

(Team two)

Team two was now regrouped on the 3rd floor of the complex inside an office, just a few feet from where they placed Triela after taking her spare ammo.

"Jesus Christ!" Savio began, "They took out half our guys within minutes, and Beneditto's gone blind! What next!"

"Don't worry," Beneditto said, "We took out their strongest members. Now all we gotta do is hunt for the rest. From Enzo's last report, Jean is back on the roof and Rico is somewhere in the air ducts on the 5th floor. Nacho, you go and take Rico down first, then go hunting for Jean. Make sure to fire into every air vent that you come across."

"Yes sir." Nacho said.

"Triela came from the 4th floor, according to Lawrence and Rafaello's last position. Hillshire should still be up there. Baldo, take him out."

Triela's ears burned as she heard this. A threat to her Handler's safety had been made, but she restrained herself, knowing that she was unable to do anything.

"With pleasure, sir," Baldo said, grinning at Triela, "Revenge is a dish best served cold…."

"Savio and I will look for Marco and Angelica." Beneditto blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the effects of the flash-bang that Triela had thrown at him.

"You stay here, Benny," Savio said, "You're in no condition to move about."

"You're right," Beneditto admitted and sat down, "Alright, move out."

"Yes, sir!" The three remaining members of team two exited the room, leaving Beneditto and Triela alone.

(Team one)

"Jean, report." Hillshire said as he hid under a desk of one of the cubicles located on the 4th floor.

"I'm on the roof," Jean said, "What do you want me to do?"

"Stay there, and keep your eyes on the perimeter of the building. Watch for anyone trying to climb their way up. Rico, where are you?"

"I'm still in the air ducts on the 5th floor," She said with a bit of a grunt, "I'm trying to get Enzo out of the way so I can see through the vents."

"Heheheheh…." She could hear Enzo laugh.

The boy had been shot in the rear end, so as a small act of revenge, he anchored himself to his position by looping his belt around the vent hinges.

"Forget about that, work your way to the vents of the staircase and watch out for any targets."

"Roger." She started backing out through the way she came.

"Marco?" Hillshire called out.

"I'm close to you're position, Hillshire," Marco whispered, "So close that I can hear you."

"I can hear you too," Hillshire whispered, "We're close enough to the stair case that we can pick off anyone who gets past Rico, so we'll stay put. Set up a perimeter; go around the cubicles and into a position that has the best view of the door to the staicase."

"Roger that." Marco said.

"Angelica?" Hillshire called out to the remaining member of his team.

"Yes, sir?" She responded.

"Where are you?"

"I'm not… I'm not too sure, sir, somewhere on the 4th floor. It's dark here."

"Dammit, Angelica!" Marco half screamed half whispered, "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"Ease off, Marco," Hillshire commanded "Angelica, stay where you are until I say so. Most likely you're in one of the broom closets, so stay put. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright, boy-o's," Savio said as he, Baldo, and Nacho reached the entrance to the 4th floor, "Flash-Bangs away!"

They each tossed in a grenade and turned away, waiting for the "Pshht" of the flash-bang to be heard.

Once inside, they heard the grunts of two men, the victims of the sudden flash of light.

"Nacho, get a move on!" Savio commanded, "Baldo and I will take it from here!"

Nacho re-entered the staircase and climbed upward to continue hunting for Jean and Rico.

Baldo scanned the cubicles ahead and spotted Hillshire under a desk, furiously rubbing his eyes.

"This is for Beneditto." He said before emptying his entire magazine of paint bullets onto the injured man.

"Jean, Marco," Hillshire grunted, "I'm out."

"They're coming for me as well," Marco said, "I can't see anything!"

"Gotcha." Savio shot Marco directly in the side of his helmet.

"Beneditto," Savio began, "Baldo and I got Hillshire and Marco."

"Good work," Beneditto said, "Nacho, how are things going?"

"Shh…" Nacho whispered, "I have Rico in my sights…"

The boy was aiming at a vent directly above him, where he saw the torso of Rico. He fired a burst of shots into the vent.

"Jean," He heard Rico whisper, "They got me."

"Good work, Ignazio," Beneditto said, "Now all that's left is Jean and-"

"Son of a bitch!" Savio interrupted Beneditto, "My eyes!"

"I can't see!" Baldo shouted.

Gunfire was heard through the radio.

"Dammit! Savio and I are down, sir," Baldo said, "Angelica snuck up on us."

"…I can hear her heading in my direction…" Beneditto said, "Nacho, what's you're status?"

"I-I can't get a clear shot of Jean," Nacho said, "He's camping the doorway to the roof!"

"I messed up big time, guys," Beneditto sighed, "Sorry."

Still blinded, the man tossed his carbine to the ground and cursed himself. He had pulled a rookie mistake by not treating every member of an opposing force as a major threat. He had assumed that Angelica would be an easy target.

A second later, a paint bullet was shot into Beneditto's chest.

"Mr. Jean," He heard Angelica's voice, "I took out Baldo, Savio and Beneditto. I think Nacho is headed in your direction."

"Roger that," Jean said, "I have him in my sights now."

Jean fired his weapon at the shadowy figure that was emerging from the doorway that led to the rooftop, making direct contact with Nacho's head.

"He's down," Jean said, "This game is over."

(Bradley: Narrator)

The Social Welfare Agency: General Nowell's Quarters, Rome, Italy; 2200 hours, Same Day

The negative expectations I had of Section Two were wiped clean, as I was now thoroughly impressed with their procedures. I was also impressed at the way each team at today's training exercise adapted to the situation at hand; it began appearing quite amateur-ish in nature, but ended up being exciting to watch. I could easily see why the two sections had this invisible rivalry going on.

It was fascinating to watch children take commands and move about like trained S.W.A.T. team members, yet at the same time it was quite horrendous to see them shoot simulated rounds at each other with no remorse. Even so, I was very impressed with the results, though I wondered if they really would act the same way with live ammunition.

After finishing my report and e-mailing it to the U.S.P. headquarters, I recalled the conversation I had with Claes after the war game was over.

The Social Welfare Agency: Training Grounds, Rome, Italy; 1330 hours, Same Day

"Excellent job, team one," Lorenzo spoke through the microphone, "We'll have medics pickup anyone that's injured. The General and I will be at the locker room shortly."

"So what did you think, General?" Percival turned to see that his father was gone from his seat, "Uh… General?"

He scanned the area, finding Bradley talking to Claes in the far corner of the room.

"So what do you do when your teammates are off on a mission?" He asked her.

"I just read," She said, "Sometimes I'm called into the lab to test some new cybernetic enhancements, and other times I work on my garden, but I mostly stay in my room and read."

"Really," Bradley began taking notes, "Do ever wish that you were alongside your teammates?"

"Not really," She put down her book, "I'm mean, I'd like to go along with them sometimes, but I'll just be in their way."

"How so?"

"I have terrible aim," She confessed, "Sometimes I think that I can't even hit the broad side of a barn."

"Well practice makes perfect."

"The only time I get to practice is when there's ammo left over from the other's training, and most of the time I don't even bother. It's not like I'm going back into the field anytime soon."

"I see… the others seem to be extremely dedicated to their handlers. Are you dedicated to the Agency?"

"Please," She sarcastically replied, "I have no one to dedicate my life to other than myself."

"What if the SWA were to assign you a new handler?"

"Then they'll recondition and program me to be another Henrietta."

(Bradley: Narrator)

I pulled up Claes' file on my tablet. Her former handler, Raballo, was an elderly man, much older than I. His admittance into the SWA confused me to no end, since he had a bad knee. Clearly, he wouldn't have been able to keep up with the rest of the agents, let alone a cybernetically enhanced girl.

"Unless…," I thought aloud, "Unless he was trying too…"

Suddenly I was interrupted by an e-mail notification on my computer.

"What's this?"

Opening my e-mail in-box, I found that it was just an anonymous e-mail. However, upon closer inspection I read "Agenzia Di Assistenza Sociale - Le informazioni segrete superiori per quanto riguarda il Fratello" as it's subject heading. (Social Welfare Agency – Information regarding the lost Fratello)

I recalled the conversation I had with the boys the other day. They mentioned something about a girl name Elsa and how she had died protecting her Handler.

I had already read several documents about this at the Section Two office, and apparently it was a ongoing investigation concerning the Padania Republic Faction. However, the investigation has long since been cancelled, and the search for the murderer was eventually dissolved.

However, the inquisitive nature within me forced my hand to open the document, leaving me breathless as I stared at its contents. The ballistics report that was on my tablet screen was completely different than what I had read at the office. I had a bit of trouble deciphering the handwritten message, but basically it read:

"The fragments of the 9mm projectile found in Lauro's Skull matches those of the projectile found in Elsa's skull. Furthermore, bullet grooves found from the mostly intact projectile found in Lauro's cranium matched the grooves of 9mm bullets fired from Elsa's sidearm.

The provided evidence has left us no other choice but to conclude that this was a murder/suicide conducted by Elsa."

Another document titled "Un rapporto di osservazione sul Fratello di Lauro/Elsa" was on the next page. (An Observation report on the Lauro/Elsa Fratello)

The report goes into detail about the relationship between Lauro and Elsa, much like the other Fratello's reports. I was told that these bi-annual reports are made by anonymous Fratello Handlers chosen at random to grade their peers.

The report that was on my screen ended with the following statement:

"For months now, the dedication and love that Elsa shows Lauro has never been returned. Over time, her obsessive behavior has become borderline psychopathic. Personally, I believe that if Lauro continues to ignore Elsa's feats, something horrible will go wrong. These cyborgs that we're dealing with are still unpredictable.

I remind you to recall the event between the Jose/Henrietta team and the Raballo/Claes team in the firing range.

Immediate action is recommended."

This report was dated two weeks before the death of the Lauro/Elsa Fratello.

Another report titled "Report on the structural integrity of the cybernetic implants" was found in another page. Strangely, it was the only document contained in the e-mail that was written in English.

It appeared as though it was a personal report adressed to an anonymous person. Though many portions of the report was deleted, one particualr paragraph caught my attention:

"Overall, the tissue had surpassed any expectations that we previously had. Unfortunately, optical tissue did not preform as well as other elements; mainly due to the sensitivity of the optical nerves. It's resistance to projectiles and other penetrating objects are similar to those of normal human eyes. We have not developed a system to replace any large nerves contained within the specimen, so damage to the brain will cause immediate retardation and, eventually, death; as was shown during the optical resistance tests we administered on XXXXXX. Eyes, however can be easily repaced with a donor.

I went ahead and told my colleagues Dr. XXXXXXX and Dr. XXXXXXXXX that you ordered such a syestem to be implemented as a sort of fail-safe, in case we lost control of a specimen.

Even so, I reccomend the immediate use of this particular human enhancement as it may lead to the well being and future security of XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.

The development of optical implants will resume with your permission.

Your loyal servant, friend, and brother,

Dr. XXXX XXXXXXXX"

Authentic or not, Lorenzo would hear about this.

The Social Welfare Agency: Training Grounds, Rome, Italy; 0700 hours, June 16, 2005

"So tell me," Rei whispered to her fiancé, "Why are we watching your dad shoot these targets?"

"For the last time," Percival began, "I don't know. He just told me to skip P.T. and have everyone gather here."

The explosion that came from Bradley's Raging Bull rattled the heads of all the agents of the SWA. Most of the agents of Section One smiled amongst themselves as Bradley hit another bull's eye, or more appropriately, another "headshot".

The General appeared as though he had a major "chip" on his shoulders. His sunglasses allowed no one to gaze upon his eyes, yet his aiming stance, a dangerous one-handed stance, and his body language when reloading had "pissed off" written all over.

About 200 feet from where Bradley was taking aim, stood a row of 10 paper targets. Each target had the life-sized silhouette of a person, with 4 of the silhouette's heads filled with holes. He was currently working on his 5th target.

"What's the purpose of this?" Jose approached Bradley, "General, what are you doing!"

"Training," Said Bradley. "Just incase anything goes wrong."

"What was that, General?" Jose demanded, "Are you insane?"

Jose held Henrietta behind him, protecting her from The General's view. He knew exactly what Bradley was implying, though he fought to keep from blurting it out, especially in front of Henrietta..

Bradley continued firing, hitting the silhoutte's picture directly in the center of it's forehead. Light golf-like clapping was heard from within the crowd of Agents.

"General, this is ridiculous, The Agents have work to do," Jean spoke, "I don't think that either Chief Dragi or Chief Lorenzo would approve of this sort of behavior early this morning."

"Do you approve of this?" Bradley turned and pointed his revolver at Jean's forehead.

Rico instantly leaped at The General, reacting to the threat that he posed to Jean.

Bradley caught her attack out of the corner of his eye, and in a few quick movements, Rico was disabled; sitting cross-legged on the ground, hands on her back held together by Bradley's right foot. He had his Mateba pointed at her head and his Raging Bull still fixed on Jean.

Rico struggled to move, but to no avail; The General was using his leverage to his advantage.

"General, don't do this," Jean calmly said, "Put the gun away…."

"What's the meaning of this?" Lorenzo shouted as he and Dragi stormed past the crowd of Agents, "General, what are you up to?"

"I'll see you two, as well as Jean and Fermi, in Lorenzo's office," Bradley holstered his weapons, "I have an announcement to make."

Bradley wiped the dirt off of Rico's back and carried her to her feet.

"I'm sorry." He apologized to the befuddled girl.

The Social Welfare Agency: Lorenzo's Office, Rome, Italy; 0750 hours, Same Day

"May I?" Bradley asked, holding a cigar.

"By all means, General," Lorenzo said, "But please tell us what it is that you're up to?"

"I don't like secrets," Bradley lit his cigar, "Especially ones that you can't hide."

"I don't understand, General."

Bradley retrieved a folder from his briefcase and tossed it on Lorenzo's desk.

"Maybe you'll understand after reading this. If you want to keep something secret, make sure it stays hidden. Burn it if you have to, but don't keep it around."

Jean, Fermi and Dragi crowded around Lorenzo as he opened the folder.

After a few moments of reading the documents laid out on Lorenzo's desk, Dragi laughed out loud, "HA! I knew there was something wrong with that ballistics report I read."

"Jesus Christ." Fermi grumbled, unknown to the other men that he had already known the true cause of the death of the Elsa/Lauro Fratello.

"Where did you find this?" Lorenzo demanded, "General, where did you get this information?"

"If you want to keep something a secret, Agent, make sure it stays hidden. Burn it if you have to, but don't keep it lying around. Unless it's wiped from the face of the earth, any kind of document is accessible."

Jean gulped; he was ordered by Lorenzo to get rid of the ballistics reports, but he had neglected to do so.

"Judging by your reaction, these documents must be true…" He puffed on his cigar, lost in a few moments of thought, "Yesterday morning I received a reply from the U.S.P concerning my inspection on Section One. My colleagues were impressed with the work that was going on here, Dragi."

"My gratitude goes to them," Dragi said, "And my thanks go to my Agents."

"This morning, I received a reply concerning my inspection of Section Two…." Bradley puffed on his cigar once again, blowing the smoke toward Lorenzo.

The Chief nervously gulped; this information leak was unfavorable to Bradley, so it was almost certain that the U.S.P. would feel the same way.

"Lucky for you, Chief Lorenzo, these documents were e-mailed to me after I had submitted my report." Both Lorenzo and Jean mentally breathed a sigh of relief, "What the Italian Government views as problematic, are simply minor details that can be fixed in a short amount of time to the eyes of my peers. Of course, with more personnel and funding around, I believe that the Social Welfare Agency will be back to 100 percent operational within a few weeks."

"General…," Jena started, "Am I to understand that…"

Bradley smiled to the man and extended his hand, "Please accept my apologies for my actions earlier, Agent. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Accepted, General," Jean shook his hand, "But please, explain to us what's going on."

Bradley continued shaking Jean's hand, "As of 1200 hours today, gentlemen, the deed to this area will be sold to the U.S. Government as land for a Military base. Welcome to America."

The 4 Italians were speechless.

"Congratulations on your hard work, gentleman, it's made an impression on me," Bradley shook the 3 other men's hands, "However, I will be keeping an eye on your Section, Lorenzo. You made it to this position by a hair and a bit of dumb luck, and any kind of slip up will have the entire SWA come crashing down. I don't like that you covered up the cause of the deaths of Elsa and Lauro; it's a potential threat to the other Fratello Teams, and one that must be corrected. But something inside my head demanded that I allow you to pass. It's a feeling I haven't felt since before my days in the Army, Lorenzo, and I always trusted that feeling. I can't describe it except to say it was like... being possesed..."

The 4 men didn't know how to reply.

"Anyways, Lorenzo, for the next few days I want you to concentrate on informing the other Fratello about the true reason of Elsa and Lauro's demise. Be gentle about it as well. Some of them may not take the news very lightly and might even refuse to continue working with the cyborgs. We can't have that happening, so if you feel that a certain Handler cannot handle such news, inform me and I'll discuss it with him."

"Yes, General," Lorenzo said, "I'll work on it."

"I have requested that this Agency be put on the 'Watch List'," Bradley said, "That means that for a period of one year, a live-in inspector will provide the U.S.P. with reports of any undesirable activities. Any and all reports will determine weather you are worth keeping around or not. The inspector will also work under the guise of an agent of the SWA. I hope you have no objections to this?"

"No objections, General!" Lorenzo stood at attention and saluted. He lied, of course, since the U.S. was now bringing him back to where he began nearly a year ago.

"Good," Bradley had a wide grin painted on his face, "Now guess who that inspector is…."

End chapter Three

Coming soon:

Chapter Four: Propositions