Not a lot of stuff to say up here, except we're still on Earth, and we're still in the "past." We'll be following this group here until they leave and when they arrive, the same way we'll be following Jake and Norm through everything on Pandora and when the ISV arrives.
Thank you for the reviews and alerts and favorites. I really hope this story lives up to its predecessor, and I hope you all enjoy getting to know the new characters.
Now, go on! Read.
. . . Aggressive Countermeasures
18 months before departure
Simulations pissed him off the most, especially when he knew the real thing was about a million times worse. Since waking up in a sterile ambient room four years earlier and gaining the ability to talk, walk and run all within a six-month period, his "handlers" had diligently increased his rate of improvement every six months since then. His day started two hours before everyone else's, right at 0400, before the lights were even on. And after he'd watched more memory exercises than any normal person could possibly endure, he finally sat down at breakfast with the rest of the team, which consisted of what he referred to as 'normal' people. And he meant that in the way that they'd been conceived the normal way. They'd all gestated inside their mothers, been born the normal way and grown up to be chosen for the mission they were all preparing to leave for in the next year and a half.
But what he really noticed was how none of them looked at him any different. There were early mornings — really early mornings — when he was alone that he liked to think it was because they simply didn't know the details of his existence. But when he got a bruise in the simulator or broke a bone from landing wrong out of the crew ships flying them from one insect-infested slum to another, and he was given special treatment to the point that his cuts and bruises healed in a few hours and his bones healed in a few days, he knew they all realized what his purpose there was — and how he'd been made. He didn't have a mother or a father, not really. He didn't have memories of being a child or an awkward teenager trying to feel up his first girlfriend. He didn't have the dreams or nightmares of a man who'd lived a long life and had aspirations to make it better for another generation. He dreamed, yes. But mostly, it was little stuff. And he'd been told upon having his first dream less than a month after waking up to write it all down. The doctors all said it was for research.
He hated doctors. They were just about as useful as a pair of dirty socks — present but annoying. He could never understand where they all got off thinking they were right when they told him it would help him one day. And even if he did usually write down the simple stuff, it was the complex stuff he kept to himself — or as much to himself as he could when they were doing brain scans on him every week to make sure he was acclimating to his environment. He was acclimating all right. If they'd leave him the hell alone, he'd 'acclimate' a hell of a whole lot better. With Samantha.
A loud roar from several klicks away broke him from his thoughts, and he gripped the weapon in his hands. He really hated simulations. They were never realistic, even if the sounds and sensations were all accurate. It was dark to simulate night time on Pandora, even though a soft green glow emanated from the ground and plants around him. It wasn't really pleasing to the eyes, especially since it did no justice to the real thing. He peered around his cover, a tall, thick tree meant to keep him hidden from the fauna being simulated, and all his could see were trees. He couldn't see the sleek, black creature the roar had come from, but he knew it was there. It was always there, no matter how much the computer tried to move it around. That was another bad thing about simulations. He always beat them before they finished their run. Always.
Samantha was always telling him his brain was different from theirs, because he was 'special.' He didn't usually like that word, since it almost always meant he was a freak of nature. But when she said it, he knew she meant it. She was always telling him he was doing the things he did to help a lot of people. He was never going to be able to tell her he did a lot of it to impress her — mostly because she would probably laugh at him or something.
"Do you see it?" he heard, recognizing John's voice from another few meters away and looking off to his left to spot their Tactical specialist, but it was impossible.
"No!" another voice cried. Logan. The Transport guy. He was weird, but he could fly pretty much anything, and that was cool.
"Would you guys shut up?" Samantha yelled from several meters off the ground in the trees — well, simulated trees. He always wondered how she got up there and how she was even able to sit up there with her rifle. Being the Sniper of the group, she got teased a lot because she was a girl with a gun, but the Wasp tranquilizer she carried on her right thigh was usually enough to shut people up. Especially when most people thought it was a real gun. "Jase," she called, and he looked up automatically. "I got your twenty. Don't move."
"What is that?" Logan asked of her term. "Corporal Teagan."
"Shut up, Sergeant," she grit out through her comm. "I can see Jason. It's right on him."
He didn't move, knowing her scope was trained on him and also realizing the big black cat was too. He knew she was talking in an old Earth code of terms, and he knew she confused the hell out of Logan when she did it. But he understood. So he stayed put until he knew it was clear.
Unfortunately, since the simulation was supposed to be "real," the damn thing could smell him and had him pinned less than a minute after she told him not to move.
"Shit," he hissed, trying his feet and snapping a twig beneath his booth. A snarl erupted from the big black cat's torso, and he opened his eyes, trying to see something other than the darkness and glowing grass. He lifted his fingers to his throat mike, whispering. "I can't stay here. If this shit was fuckin' real, I'd be dead by now."
"Well," John shot back, "if this was real, we wouldn't have to worry about replacing you. Just shoot the damn thing."
"Guys," Samantha interrupted. "I got it. Jase, move to your left. And close your eyes. We don't want you to go blind from the flash."
He eased to his left, grasping his rifle and snapping another twig less than two seconds before he heard the hiss of Samantha's tranquilizer as it whizzed passed his head at the big animal to his right. He shut his eyes tight, hearing the dart hit the cat with a soft thud and then feeling the ground — simulated ground — shake as the animal fell to its side.
"Okay," Samantha breathed. "It's down. We're clear. What's north of here?"
"The river," he told her.
"Good. We're halfway there. That's good for tonight."
A series of grunts and groans followed as she descended her simulated tree, and he stood upright, releasing his tight grip on his rifle as the trees around him slowly dissolved the reveal the inside of the simulation chamber in a tight box that consisted of ten thousand square feet from the floor to the ceiling that reflected light from the projectors as they shined the scene onto the mat beneath his feet.
Slowly, John, Logan and Samantha all appeared within six and a half meters of him, and the lights all came up slowly, causing him to squint in the bright beams shining down on him.
"Productive," John said, strapping on his own rifle. "Slow. But productive."
The doors to the simulator opened, allowing their two commanding officers into the room. He'd been getting used to the two of them since waking up, but he still couldn't shake the feeling like the General recognized him from more than just pictures. He knew his history — at least his face's history. He still didn't like the fact that some people looked at him the way the General was looking at him right now.
"Not bad for a simulation," General Watson commented, to which John, Logan and Samantha all saluted him without hesitation. "Sure hope you'll do just as good in the real thing."
John took point, his deep brown eyes appraising the General's statement from a purely tactical standpoint. "We'll be ready, sir," he assured the General. "We should get deeper in the simulation next time."
"If we're not attacked by a big, ugly cat the next time," Logan quipped.
The creases on John's forehead furrowed deeper as he glared, but the General smiled.
"At least you can anticipate the big, ugly cats when you get to the surface," he agreed, glancing at Samantha and then Jason. "It's after 2200 hours. You should all get some sleep."
He nodded to the doors, and with nothing more to say, John led the way to leave. But just as he walked passed the General, the man's hand landed on Jason's shoulder to stop him. "Just a minute, son," he said softly, watching the others leave before he went on. "We need to talk."
Major Sullivan closed ranks on him slowly, and he lifted wary eyes to General Watson's.
"You're kind of cocky, aren't you?" Watson asked him.
Jason shrugged. "Whatever you think I am, I got no arguments either way. A lotta people think I'm someone else."
"And what do you think?"
Jason looked at Sullivan, seeing a blank expression on her face as usual. Then he looked at Watson. "I think you know more about me than you're lettin' other people know. At least the me you think you knew before. And all I got to say about that is that I'm not him."
"Have you made it your ambition on this mission to prove you're not him?" Watson asked directly. "Especially since you claim not to be him. Because I'll tell you right now, before we ever set foot off this world and make our way to a new one that I will not tolerate defection. I will not tolerate betrayal. So if you think for even a nanosecond that you might be tempted to change affiliations after we land, you better tell me now. I know we might not be able to find a replacement as unique as you, but I'm pretty damn sure we can find one who won't feel obligated to go native, if you catch my drift."
Jason had to smile at that, even though he knew what the General was implying. And while the idea had obviously occurred to him after being told the whole story of his existence, it wasn't an idea he'd been tossing around in an official kind of way. He hadn't told any of his doctors, and he didn't plan to. But it was obvious the General didn't want a repeat performance, and he clearly didn't want to have to leave Earth without a little bit of an advantage — however much he thought Jason was an advantage.
"Is something funny, Mr. Sully?" Watson asked.
"No," Jason replied. "And to answer your question, no. I don't intend on 'going native,' like you put it. I know what I'm doing, and I know what's expected of me. And I've had dickhead doctors asking me the same stupid ass questions for the last four years since I woke up here. I think if I'd been thinkin' about doin' anything like that, they woulda told somebody by now. Don't you?"
The General smirked. "I suppose so. I understand you didn't eat dinner," he said like they hadn't just had the weirdest confrontation of his life. "Stop by the mess hall on your way to your room. Last thing we need is you not being at the top of your game, son."
He didn't say anything else, turning and leaving as Sullivan still stood beside Jason. The moment he was gone, she spoke.
"You are getting a little cocky," she informed him.
He glanced at her, seeing a small grin on her otherwise unemotional face. "After all the training I've done, I think I've earned the right to be a little cocky," he shot back. "Especially if people are gonna treat me like he does — walkin' on glass around me like they're gonna tip the balance against their favor."
"Well, can you blame them?" she asked, turning and leading him out of the simulation room as the corridor outside set dark and empty. "You act like him. You talk like him. For the most part."
"Well, I'm not him. And I'm never gonna be him. That's enough for John and Logan and Sam. Why isn't is enough for anyone else?"
She didn't say anything for several seconds as they walked, and he looked at her, seeing a blank, if not uncaring expression on her face. She'd been this way since he'd known her, and he always wondered how she did it. How was she able to be so stone-faced all the time? He could do it on command, but there were just days when he couldn't do it all the time. There were nights when he had to be emotional. Especially when he had the strangest dreams he had no way of interpreting. There was no way anyone was gonna understand what he was dreaming.
They made it to the mess hall as it set empty, and when Jason stepped inside, Sullivan didn't bother to enter the room with him. He really hadn't expected her to hang around. She usually didn't, but she almost always gave people the impression that she had been shut off from everything for a long time. Jason couldn't shut himself off from everything and everyone, no matter what he did or said. And it didn't matter what the General said or did. The future wasn't set, and even though Jason didn't intend to be a turncoat, he wasn't going to say for sure he wouldn't at least try to understand the situation. That was, after all, part of his job description.
The mess hall remained empty as he scrounged for something to eat and sat down at one of the tables by himself. While he was alone, Jason honestly thought about everything he knew about Corporal Jacob Sully.
First and foremost, since it had been drilled into him since he'd been able to comprehend anything, he knew this Corporal Sully had never been meant to go to Pandora. He'd actually replaced his identical twin because an avatar body had already been in the process of being made. Clearly, the company hadn't wanted to waste a perfectly good avatar, so they'd proposed that Sully take his place. That right there had been their first mistake.
After a lot of reading and listening, it was clear Sully had been arrogant, independent and determined, and he'd joined the marines right out of school. He'd only been in service a couple of years though, when a stray bullet had effectively ended his military career. Jason actually wondered if he still would have been selected to take his brother's place if he hadn't been injured. But Sully wasn't stupid. He was just guarded, and while he probably hadn't identified with the scientists and doctors on the base, he had absolutely identified with the native culture — Warrior Princess or not.
Sully had been good at taking orders to a point, and when he'd defied orders, his superior — a man named Quaritch — had clearly been pissed. He'd effectively punched a hole in any chance of the colony continuing in its current condition, which, when the main group of people had been expelled, was less than stellar. Jason couldn't honestly understand how anyone like that could have been in charge of anything, regardless of their military experience. It was obvious this Quaritch guy had not been the right person to keep the colony safe within reason.
Jason only stayed in the mess hall half an hour, cleaning up his mess and leaving the room the way he'd found it before making his way to his own room. And he called it a room because it had a lot of things most of the other habitats didn't have. For starters, he'd been afforded more space than most of the other guys on his floor, especially since most of those guys thought he wasn't normal like they were. Honestly, most of them didn't really want to room with him, and now that he was used to it, Jason knew he'd never get used to having a roommate. Along with his bed and desk, he also had a communications transmitter that allowed him to decrypt a lot of messages from the satellite interface in orbit. Since waking up, he'd been made aware that it was his only priority. His bed was a little bigger than most anyone else's, but he didn't really know why, and his desk could hold a lot more than anyone else's for all the information pads he usually sat up at night reading when he woke up from a particularly vivid dream.
Since just about everyone — except him — had already turned in, the corridors to his room were dark and empty, and he made it back to his room without running into anyone else on the floor. He barely noticed his ability to open his door without having to unlock it, but when he stepped into the room and was immediately attacked by an invisible assailant, he instantly went on the defensive. Two small hands grabbed him from behind, and he rolled under the body behind him, pinning his assailant to the door. But he barely had time to revel in his success when his assailant swept their feet under his leg and effectively slammed him to the ground with a low, hard thud.
"You really are getting cocky," he heard, recognizing Samantha's voice as she settled on top of him easily. "Didn't they teach you anything in basic training?"
He grabbed her waist, rolling over to be on top of her as she still clung to his waist. "You coulda warned me," he hissed. "You know I've been on edge lately."
"I know," she admitted. "But the only time I get to see you like this is when I ambush you, so what's a girl to do?"
With that, he huffed loudly, getting up on his knees and then pulling her up to face him. They got to their feet together, and he moved toward his desk to turn on the light before turning to her and discovering her in a tank top and the knit pants she usually slept in. "I take it you already had a shower," he commented, allowing her closer and then securing his arms around her the way he usually did when they were alone.
"A short one," she confirmed. "I didn't think Watson would keep you long, so I did only the basics. He still giving you a hard time?"
Jason sighed heavily, laying his forehead over hers. Even when he didn't say anything, she could always tell what he was thinking or even feeling. "I think he asks me the same damn questions every week," he told her, shaking his head slightly. "It's like he expects me to do something stupid. Not here. But there. And I can't seem to convince him otherwise."
She rubbed the back of his neck like she did when he was stressed. "My poor baby," she whispered.
He leaned in without another second passing, kissing her for the first time in almost four days and holding her as close to him as he possibly could, hoping her certainty of him and her faith in him would somehow rub off and then bleed onto the other people around him. Honestly, how hard was it to see he wasn't who they all thought he was? Despite his physical similarities with Sully, Jason didn't really have a lot in common with the guy. He didn't have the same training. He didn't have the same family life — meaning he didn't have the same upbringing. What was it about this guy that had people worried Jason was going to do something idiotic and mess up everything they were going out there to do?
Samantha was completely different story. Though it hadn't been her place, she'd been there when he'd woke up, and for whatever reason, he'd latched onto her. For the first year of his life, she'd been like his best friend. When she talked about basic training, it was actually just a short bout of grunt work he'd been thrown into for about eight months after he'd learned to do everything else he was supposed to do. He could shoot. He could fly. He could learn to duck when the situation called for it. But he'd never been prepared for missing her while he'd been away or thinking some other guy was going to come along and take her away from him. No one had thought to arm him with the tools he'd needed to deal with that, and he'd promptly made an idiot out of himself by trying to ask her out when he worked up the courage and was sure she wouldn't laugh at him.
Now, almost two and a half years later, she wasn't only his best friend. She was his second pair of eyes and ears. She was a safe place for him to let go of all his doubts and fears without worrying she would run to someone and tell them. She was the one thing he knew he could count on, and he knew if anything happened to her, he would probably go crazy — either from anger or grief. He knew it was the same for her. And he knew more than anything that while she couldn't possibly understand what he was going through, she sure as hell wasn't going to doubt him when he told her the truth. It was something he'd always loved about her.
"You know you're not supposed to be in here," Jason whispered, even as he feet moved them both toward his bed.
Samantha still rubbed his neck, lacing her fingers through his hair. "Rules are made to be broken," she taunted, grinning and leaning in to kiss him again.
Jason was pretty sure none of the doctors would like this, and he was absolutely certain they would quarantine him if they knew what he and Samantha had been doing the last several months. But he didn't care. It was none of their business anyway, and it didn't really stop him from doing his job. If nothing else, it helped him focus when he thought about her, and it kept him in check knowing she was going to Pandora with him. She was willing to break the rules by being with him, so who was he to deter her? None of the other guys on his floor ever got this close to girl anyway. It made Jason smile to know he had one up on them there.
The edge of the bed came sooner than either of them expected, and when Samantha tumbled backward onto the unmade sheets, she barely hesitated, scooting back and allowing him to kneel in front of her before reaching for him. She tugged his shirt above his head, spreading her hands over his chest and then his shoulders, and Jason reciprocated easily, removing her shirt more adeptly than he had in a while. Her skin was warm and smooth, and as he slid his hands down her arms to her hands, her body shook with a light set of shivers.
Samantha smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders and still combing her fingers through his hair. It was his turn to shiver, and he pressed his arms to the bed above her head, leaning in to kiss her again. Since beginning this dance several months earlier, Jason hadn't been able to believe the difference it made in the way he thought and felt. Sure, he was arrogant and determined, but being with Samantha kept him level-headed — even when the occasional big black cat scared the shit out of him. He knew above everything else she would never steer him the wrong way.
"Still think I'm not supposed to be here," she teased, encircling her arms around his waist and easing the tip of her fingers up his spine.
Jason grinned, pulling her leg up around his waist and laying his forehead over hers. "I think we're both gonna be in deep shit if Watson finds out," he assured her, kissing her again and reaching out to turn his desk lamp off to leave the outside world behind.
A loud blaring alarm woke him as he laid face-down in a muddy ditch, and though he was disoriented for a few seconds, he felt the hard ground beneath him and slowly rose to discover a military installation being invaded by local terrorists. He lowered his hand to his hip, feeling his sidearm and instantly pulling it out to get a look at his surroundings.
He was deep in the jungle somewhere, surrounded by trees and underbrush thicker than an old man's dirty beard. It was hot and humid, and the ground was wet with a recent rain. Down in these parts, it was still possible for the rain to be a little cleaner than up in the cities, but it was still dirty, and he could still get sick. He knew he'd be getting a detox shower when he got back to base.
A loud succession of bullets flying through the air caught his attention, and he followed the sound slowly, keeping his eyes on everything and then hearing a small cry to his left. For some reason, he switched gears, moving toward the cry and looking around again before he pulled back the heavy brush in front of him to discover a small child cowering next to a thorn bush.
She was probably six or seven years old, her brown hair drenched and her tanned face dirty as she wore little more than a torn shirt and pair of shorts with no shoes. Fear filled her eyes as soon as she saw him, and he tried to keep her calm.
"It's okay," he promised softly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. What are you doin' out here?"
She whimpered softly, coiling away from him. He holstered his sidearm, kneeling in front of her and extending his hands to her.
"It's okay," he whispered again. "You're okay."
"Mama!" she cried.
He quickly laid his finger over her lips. "Shh. It's okay. We gotta get you outta here."
She didn't resist when he moved forward to lift her in his arms, and he looked around before continuing on toward where he'd heard the gunfire. It wasn't uncommon to find kids out here, especially with a lot of the adults off fighting. One thing he knew for sure was that a lot of kids were going to be orphans when it was all said and done. That was a sad thought.
More gunfire stopped him, and he lowered his passenger to the ground, kneeling in front of her and pulling his sidearm back out. His ears picked up on movement, and he scooted back closer to the little girl. He knew he was in enemy territory, and he knew she probably belonged to one of them. But she was just a little girl. It didn't matter who her parents were. She was innocent, and she needed to be protected. But he couldn't stay put for too long, so after the movement which turned out to be a group of terrorist fighters running by, he stood up and lifted her in his arms again to keep going north toward the base. With any hope, he would be able to get her there before nightfall, and she would be safe from the jungle.
He ran for several meters, glancing over his shoulder and hoping he was going fast enough without jostling her too much, and after several minutes, he swore he heard a voice calling his name. At least it sounded like his name. Kind of.
"Jake! Where the hell are you, man?"
He hurried to the voice, still carrying the little girl and still looking over his shoulder. The ground began to shake, and for the slightest second, he was scared. It sounded like a freight train was coming up behind him, rumbling so loud the trees began to tremble.
"Jake! There's a air strike coming, you idiot! Get your ass back to base!"
The voice crackled into silence, and he realized it was coming from a radio. Both his hands were occupied. How was he supposed to tell them he was coming? He didn't even know how far away he was.
It was hard to keep his balance as the shaking ground beneath his feet got worse, and in a last ditch effort to do something other than die, he dove into a thick bush with the little girl still in his arms. Just as he landed, a sharp pain slapped up his back, effectively grounding him instantly, and the little girl screamed from sheer terror.
Rumbling filled his ears, and he covered his head and the little girl as whatever had been behind him closed in and then passed over him. It was beyond hot. The pack on his back felt like it weighed a ton, and the gun in his hand burned his palm. The heat lasted several seconds, and when it finally subsided, he tried to get up. But he couldn't.
Slowly, he realized something was wrong. He tried to get up onto his knees, but to his annoyance, they wouldn't respond. He thought he was in shock. Why else would his legs not do what he told them? He raised up to his hands, lowering his eyes to the little girl only to find her own eyes half-open.
"Hey," he whispered.
She didn't respond, and slowly, he lifted his fingers to her neck. No pulse. He lowered his eyes to her body, seeing blood and wondering where she'd been hit. Suddenly, he remembered the radio, reaching for his shoulder and bringing it to his mouth.
"Tango Bravo Charlie, this is Corporal Sully. I'm pinned down south of base, in need of assistance. Respond, over?"
Nothing came back, and he tried again, even as the roar of a jet overhead drowned out nearly everything worth latching onto. He turned over to be on his back, staring up into the thick canopy and wondering what he was supposed to do if he couldn't get help over the radio.
The brush exploded without warning, and no less than ten terrorist fighters armed with automatic, ancient rifles all aimed at him. He held his hands up in surrender, hoping they wouldn't think he was the one who'd killed the little girl. For all he knew, they'd been ones to do it. The one who he would consider the leader stepped forward, still aiming his rifle and then arming it with a low click.
"Hey, hold on a minute. I was just trying to help."
The tip of the rifle touched his forehead, and he closed his eyes, automatically praying to God even though he was sure no one would hear him. Pain exploded in his head, and his vision blossomed in white a second before there was nothing else.
Jason sat up instantly, yelling and forgetting where he was for several seconds. The last thing he remembered was feeling the tip of a gun against his forehead, and in the darkness, he had no frame of reference for where he was or what was going on. A small hand wrapped around his arm, and for a second, Jason tried to pull away.
"Jase," Samantha whispered, sitting up behind him and then reaching over to turn on his lamp. She made him look at her, and in the dim light of the room, he slowly became aligned with her as they both sat there naked.
He huffed, leaning over his legs and covering his face. "Shit."
"What was this time?" she asked softly, rubbing his neck and easing her hand down his back in an effort to comfort him.
"Venezuela," he replied with absolute certainty. "But it was different this time. They shot him in the head. And the little girl died."
Samantha laid her cheek over his shoulder blade, still rubbing. "You're shaking," she whispered.
He laughed softly, rubbing his forehead. "Gee, ya think?"
She sighed softly. "You know he didn't get shot in the head, Jase," she reminded him. "You know the little girl didn't die. He saved her. And no matter what he did after that moment, that's your legacy. You can follow in his footsteps, or you can make your own. It's that simple."
Jason inhaled deeply. "Yeah, I know."
Samantha didn't say anything after that, pressing her cheek to his skin and still rubbing his back.
The last thing any of the team was expecting was to have "contact" with the local population while still doing simulations, but apparently, General Watson wanted to test their reactions to a Na'vi in the field. So after several days of walking through thick brush and avoiding big black cats, they found themselves approaching a populated area filled with Natives. John and Logan were apprehensive about allowing any of the locals see them, even if they knew it was only a simulation. Sullivan was with them as they eased through the landscape, mentioning that she would have to do it once they were on the surface and deciding it was time for her to start leading them. Samantha didn't have an opinion either way, as long as she got to keep her gun, and Jason was also indifferent, but not for the same reason as anyone else. Only Samantha knew why he had no feelings one way or another.
However, General Watson didn't seem to like Jason's feelings on the subject. And when they were finally within striking distance of the local population, Watson made his concerns well-known.
"You need to be serious about this, son," he told Jason as they all stood around after the first simulation of Na'vi. "We can't afford to have anyone on our team unsure of their place."
After having heard the same arguments from the General and all the doctors, Jason had finally had enough, voicing his own opinion.
"I don't really give a shit about what you can't afford," he informed Watson. "And I don't really give a fuck about my place."
"Jason," Samantha chastised.
He glared at her, more upset and confused than anything else. "And I'm supposed to listen to everybody berate me and talk down to me like a child? I'm not Jake Sully. I'm never gonna be Jake Sully. But if you're so damned convinced that sending me out there is a bad idea, then maybe you shoulda thought about that before you fucking created me!"
Both John and Sullivan couldn't hide their outrage, but General Watson only smiled, stepping closer to Jason and clasping his arms behind his back. Jason inhaled sharply, standing up straight.
"Is that how you really feel?" he asked Jason, much to everyone else's dismay.
Jason took a chance. "Yeah. That's how I feel. And you know it's true."
For several long silent seconds, Watson nodded, glancing at Sullivan and then John and Logan before he stepped closer to Samantha.
"Is he like this when the two of you are alone?" he asked her, causing her to step back as her face turned red.
She stuttered, and General Watson chuckled softly.
"Did you think no one would find out about something going on after curfew?" he asked.
Jason took a step closer to Watson, blocking his view of Samantha as she stood there clenching her teeth. "You wanna accuse her of something?" he demanded.
Watson only grinned, and when Jason took another step, Sullivan stepped in, pushing them apart.
"That's enough dick-measuring for the night, boys," she commanded, turning her attention to Watson and speaking a little more officially. "Will, you need to tell him."
At the mention of the General's first name, the whole team was at a loss for words, and after stepping back away from Watson, Jason bowed his head and took Samantha's hand in his, proving everything that had been said in one gesture. Then he lifted his eyes to Watson's.
"Tell me what?"
Watson hesitated, scoffing softly and then glancing at Sullivan before he spoke again. "There are a few things you need to know about before you go to Pandora," he informed Jason. "A few things we haven't told you."
"They told me everything about Jake and Tom," Jason argued.
Again, Watson glanced at Sullivan. "It's not about Jake or Tom Sully," he revealed, pausing. "Not entirely."
Jason shook his head. "Then what is it about?"
Watson bowed his head, speaking as he lifted his eyes to Jason's. "Amelia and Ava Shaw."
Having never heard those names before in his life, Jason looked at Samantha and then John and Logan, seeing them all nearly as dumbfounded as he was.
"Who are they?" Logan asked.
When Watson didn't respond, Sullivan took over. "They're the whole reason for this mission," she informed them all.
So, Amelia and Ava seem pretty important to General Watson. Does that mean he really knows who they are? Hmm? And how about the team, huh? We'll learn more about them as time goes on. To mention a few more things, when we're in the past, obviously, we'll be in third person, and when we're in the present with Jake, we'll be in first person.
Next chapter will be from Jake's perspective.
Hope it's not too hard when all this comes full circle.
Anyway, next update might be a little later than this one, but I've got a vacation coming up, and I'm hoping to get a lot done, so stay tuned.
Catch you on the flip side!