The day after the battle at Aaronsdale High School, the Jet Force team were driving through the outskirts of the city. The black jeep turned right towards their destination but found their path blocked by a gate. Taylor wound down the window as a security guard approached, "Which property are you visiting?" he asked.
"Number 12," Taylor replied and flashed her Air Force ID, "I trust this will be all you need to see."
The guard peered closely at the ID, "US Air Force," he whistled, "seen all sorts visiting number 12 but you're the first from the Air Force." The guard indicated to his colleague to open the gate, "You'll probably find her around the back this time of day," he added.
Once the gate was open, Taylor drove the jeep through slowly, "A gated community," Ricky gaped in awe at the large houses lining the road, "are we sure this is the right place?"
"As sure as I can be," Jazz replied, "my algorithm clearly indicated presence of the Avian Waves in the area."
"Better than checking out the south side of the city," Stevie added. Jazz's algorithm had picked up two areas of Avian Wave activity. The other area was in the city's south side, an area with a questionable reputation and high levels of poverty and crime. "I'm not one to question your orders Major," Stevie continued, "but was it wise sending Mark alone to the south side?"
"That's a lie and you know it Stevie," Taylor snorted, she already knew the blue ranger had a significant insubordinate streak, even after 24 hours of knowing the teen. Ignoring the pout from the girl, Taylor continued, "He's the leader of this team, I trust him explicitly."
"Nice way to dodge the question," Stevie pushed her sunglasses on to the top of his head, "I don't think he likes us much."
"I wouldn't take it personally," Jazz answered, "other than Adrienne, he's never really connected with anyone in the Project." Stevie and Ricky had been filled in with the history of Project Jet Force, including the Vyglass assault that claimed the life of Mark's girlfriend. The mention of Adrienne quietened the car immediately, "Plus if this house belongs to who I think it does, it won't be his thing anyway."
"And it'll be ours," Ricky began, "you haven't actually told us who she is."
Jazz opened her laptop and open her web browser, "Ever heard of Rachel Zane?" Ricky shook his head but Stevie's showed some recognition, "How about Zee TV and Zee Online?" she added.
"The make-up influencer," Ricky groaned, "you've got to be kidding me, her videos are terrible."
"I dunno, they're alright," Stevie shrugged, "I've gotten some good hair styling tips from her videos before." She flicked her hair which was tied back with several intricate plaits, "This is one of hers actually, thought it would make a good first impression."
"She didn't even create that you know, she's just making money anything she can stick her name to," Ricky protested, "someone back me up on this."
"My pop culture knowledge stops around 2005," Taylor shrugged, "I've never heard of her but I'm willing to give her a chance."
Ricky crossed his arms and pouted, "Not like we have a choice."
The car was silent until they reached their target property, a large white framed building with light blue walls and large central door. "Look at the size of this place," Stevie said when she stepped out the car, "I don't think Aaronsdale High's main building is that big."
"Clearly being an internet personality pays well," Taylor commented, "I see we're not the only ones paying Miss Zane a visit this morning." The former yellow ranger pointed at the UPS and FedEx delivery trucks parked outside the property.
The current yellow ranger sniffed, "Getting her latest delivery of crap to sell," he said derisively. Taylor shot her successor a warning glare and pointed firmly in his direction, immediately silencing further comments from Ricky.
Doing as the security guard instructed, they made their way around the back of the property until they found a large swimming pool and rear patio area. There was an empty wicker chair with a light ring and expensively looking camera standing alone. Near the glass door were two uniformed delivery drivers with several brown boxes in their arms.
Finally there was a blonde, her hair styled intricately into a braided mohawk on top with loose waves running down her back. She was dressed, if that was the right term, in a white bikini with her legs wrapped in a light pink sarong and a pair of wedge heels. Taylor shook her head at the gaping from her young team, "Honestly, you'd think you hadn't seen bare skin before," she groaned.
The delivery drivers handed the boxes over to the woman, who struggled to balance them in her arms. Immediately Ricky dashed over, "Can I help you with those?" he asked.
"Typical man," Stevie snorted at the yellow rangers behaviour.
"Thanks," the woman smiled, "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting guests, unless you're the reporters from E Online."
Taylor pulled out her ID badge, "Major Taylor Earhardt, United States Air Force," she greeted, "I presume you're Rachel Zane," the blonde nodded numbly in response, "perhaps we could have this conversation somewhere private."
"Erm, yeah," Rachel replied whilst holding the boxes closer to her body, "could I get dressed first? Swim wear doesn't feel appropriate when talking with an Air Force Major." Entering the kitchen, she dropped the boxes on the central counter and grabbed a towel, "Make yourselves at home, I'll be down in a few minutes," she called before disappearing into her house.
Stevie smirked and gave Ricky a little nudge, "Can't wait for you to tell her how terrible her videos are," she chuckled before entering the door.
"Shut up," Ricky grumbled under his breath, before following everyone else inside.
A few minutes later and now dressed in jeans, sneakers and a plain white t-shirt, Rachel listened carefully as Taylor and Jazz explained Project Jet Force and the Avian Waves. The blonde nodded occasionally but didn't say anything until Jazz presented the case with the two remaining Jet Morphers, "Are you sure about this?" she asked the pair.
Suddenly Stevie reached into the case, tossing the morpher portion of the device to Rachel. The blonde fumbled it before securing her grip on the morpher at the third attempt. As she did, a white pulse of light emanated from her hands, "Yup we're sure," the blue ranger said. Spotting the glare from Taylor, Stevie shrugged, "Sorry, I was saving her the speech about destiny and all that."
"This doesn't seem real," Rachel sighed, "what about my sponsors and my followers, what are they going to say?"
"Course you think of that first," Ricky muttered under his breath.
A sharp frown flashed across Rachel's face, "Do you have something to say to me?" she snapped, "I know your type, probably spend all day in your parents basement, playing video games and trolling people online."
"We have our own basement technically," Jazz interjected, earning a glare from Ricky, "what, I'm trying to defend you but she's not completely wrong."
"I don't troll people," Ricky grumbled, "I just prefer people to work for a living, not just post videos on the internet."
Rachel snorted, still glaring hatefully at Ricky, "You have no idea do you?" She turned towards Taylor, "Does he have to be part of this team?"
"Unfortunately yes," Taylor gave Ricky a quick glance, before the argument could continue Jazz's laptop began to buzz, "Saved by the bell," Taylor muttered, "do we have trouble?" she asked their technical support.
"Possibly," Jazz began whilst studying the map, "looks like there's a minor Vyglass presence in the south side."
"Maybe Mark did find something," Taylor began whilst reaching for her communicator, "I'll check in with him, see if he needs help."
"Woah, that's not good," Jazz waved frantically to get the Major's attention, "I'm detecting huge Vyglass activity at the High School."
"But we stopped that bug thing," Stevie peered over Jazz's shoulder, "and why would they want to attack the school again?"
"Good question," Taylor began, "we'll go investigate, Mark will have to meet us there. Jazz, you stay here and monitor the situation," suddenly she realised where she was, "if that alright with you Rachel?" she asked the white ranger.
Rachel sighed but nodded slowly, "Can't really say no, I guess mi casa et su casa." With that, Taylor led the three rangers back to car, leaving Jazz alone in the kitchen.
In the south side of the city, Mark found the location indicated by Jazz as the sight of Avian Wave activity. The first thing he spotted was a faded sign for a music club, "Duality," he muttered, "open mic nights every Tuesday, that was yesterday." Whilst Jazz's research indicated that the Avian Waves fell to Earth somewhere in Aaronsdale, that didn't mean the recipients stayed in the city. If they were just visiting, they could've left by now to God knows where. Something like an open mic night could attract people from across the city, maybe even the state if the venue was big enough.
Fortunately, Duality looked small and little run down if their signage was anything to go by. Hopefully whoever used their Avian Wave powers was still in the area. The red ranger spotted an alleyway by the side of the club, following his instincts he chose to explore. Immediately he spotted evidence of a disturbance, the trash cans were knocked over and debris was littering the alley.
Mark paused when he spotted something on the ground, "Blood," he commented whilst kneeling. There was more than one patch too, clearly there had been a fight recently. Judging by the state of the club and the neighborhood that wasn't unusual but coupled with evidence of Avian Waves, this was too much of a coincidence.
He was about to report his findings to Major Earhardt when a someone called out to him, "Can I help you with something?" a male voice with a slight Southern drawl said.
Mark looked up to find someone standing in the nearby doorway, a man of similar age to himself dressed mostly in black. He was taking a long drag on his cigarette, "Those are bad for your health," the red ranger commented.
"So's sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong," the man replied sharply, "so I'll ask again, can I help you with something?"
"Maybe," Mark began, "do you recall seeing a fight here last night?"
There was a long pause as the man stared at Mark before flicking some ash away, "You a cop or something?" he asked.
"Nope, just trying to track something down," Mark reached for some identification, "Lieutenant Mark Atkins, US Air Force," he introduced himself, "are you the owner of this place?"
"Just a frequent visitor," he replied defensively, "but trust me, there's nothing that would interest the Air Force around here."
Mark appraised the man for a moment, his defensive reactions suggested he knew more than he was letting on. He could try to strong arm him, using the 'National Security' card, but Mark thought a different approach could work, "You don't even know what we're looking for," he began coyly, "but there could be a reward for anyone with information."
The man looked at Mark with dollar signs practically lighting up in his eyes, "Maybe I did see something but I'm a cash up front kind of person, if you know what I mean."
"I do," Mark began, "but I don't have cash on me right now, we're in the south side after all."
"Convenient," the man shook his head, "no cash, no comment," he added with a shrug.
Mark opened his mouth but before he could continue, the crashing of metal grabbed his attention, "Gougers," he growled, "just what I need," he dashed towards them but to his surprise, a trio of Gougers ignored him "where do you think you're going?"
"Hey, you keep away from me," the cigarette smoking man said when the Gougers began to approach him. Ignoring his warning, the monsters kept on coming, "Alright, you've asked for this," he added and swung at the nearest Gouger. The blow connected, knocking the creature across the alleyway and into the wall opposite.
Deflecting an attack from a Gouger, Mark gasped in surprise, "It's you," he said, "you're the one we've been looking for."
"The hell are you talking about," the man in black responded whilst digging around in a nearby dumpster. Grabbing an empty beer bottle, he smashed it across the face of a Gouger, "If it's about an incident in San Antonio two years ago, I swear it wasn't me."
After delivering a spinning kick to another Gouger, Mark found a few seconds to reply, "What about San Antonio?" Ducking underneath a Gouger's axe, he put that question to one side, "Forget that, were you hit by lightning a few days ago?"
The man paused, "What if I was?" the distraction was enough for a Gouger to sneak up behind, wrapping its arms around his body, "You lot don't take a hint," he snapped his head back, headbutting the monster. Now free from its grip, he smashed his fist across its jaw.
"Haven't you noticed that you're much stronger than before," Mark continued and pointed at the nearby wall, "you hit a Gouger so hard that you've dented a brick wall."
"I like to work out," the man replied defensively. He was free of his Gougers and casually stood to one side as the remaining continued to attack Mark, "Having trouble? Maybe you need to work out a little more," he added with a smile.
"Just shut up and help me," Mark shouted back. Rolling his eyes, the man casually walked up to a Gouger standing with its back to him. A swing of his leg later, the Gouger doubled over in pain from a blow to the groin, "That's hardly sporting," Mark said with a frown.
"Worked didn't it," the man shrugged and picked up another Gouger over his head. With a quick press motion, he launched the footsoldier into a dumpster. Seeing they were taking a beating, the remaining Gougers teleported away in a flash, "Yeah, and don't come back."
Slowly getting to his feet, Mark said with a quiet hush, "Thank you."
"Sorry didn't quite catch that," the man replied with a smirk, "must've been real painful to say that though," he added whilst pulling another cigarette out the packet.
"The lightning you were struck with, it was a top secret Air Force project," Mark began, ignoring the man's jibe, "it's granted you enhanced strength, speed and agility."
"Huh", was the man's simple reaction, "ain't that something." As Mark reached for his hand, he swatted it away angrily, "What do you think you're doing?"
"You need to come with me, the fate of the world is at stake," Mark said firmly.
"I ain't going nowhere with you," he snapped back, "I ain't one of your little soldiers that you can order around."
A furious retort was on Mark's lips, fortunately his communicator buzzed and interrupted his train of thought. Keeping his eyes on the man in black, he lifted his communicator, "This is Mark," he answered.
"Mark, we've got a wee situation at the High School," Jazz began, "the Major's taken the others there, can you meet them straight away."
"The High School?" Mark frowned, "are you sure?"
"The sensors clearly indicate Vyglass presence," the Scotswoman continued, "we've recruited the fourth Ranger, any luck your end?"
"Who's the lady? She sounds kinda cute, I really like the accent," the man in black grabbed Mark's wrist and pulled the communicator closer, "Hey, you can call me Harley," he continued.
"Erm, creepy," Jazz responded, "Mark, if you're still there get to the school ASAP," with that, Jazz shut down communications.
Pulling his wrist back, Mark frowned, "I don't have time for your immature antics, for some reason the Avian Waves chose you to be a Power Ranger. So I'll ask again, are you going to come with me," this time he extended his hand.
Harley looked at the offer of a handshake for a few moments, "Like I said, I ain't going nowhere," he finally answered.
"Fine, I'm not wasting time trying to change your mind," Mark snapped his hand back, "if you decide to be a decent human being, we'll be at Aaronsdale High School." He sprinted out of the alley, leaving Harley behind. The man in question merely shrugged his shoulders and continued to smoke his cigarette.
A/N - All five Rangers have now been introduced, not a huge introduction for Rachel but she will get the first "focus episode" to make up for it.