by P. S. Power
Hobbs smiled and spoke, which stopped neither woman at all, and Charity yelped again, for about the sixth time that day. Bridget got it, but they were going to have to work on that, she thought. Otherwise it would get annoying.
With a half leap she grabbed a struggling and fighting Katarine up into a hug. "Hey! Didja' miss me?"
The woman was fighting in earnest, or seemed to have been, until she leaned in and kissed Bridget on the cheek, her intensity slacking off a lot.
"Da, tavarich. Miss, much."
That was nice to hear, since Bridget had kind of figured that the woman hated her by now. At least she still kept stabbing her, when she got the chance.
Marcia was busily floating about six feet from the ground, the brown and rust colored tile under her feet shining softy. It was a nice room, Bridget saw, having never been there before. Big. Like the gym on fourteen, nearly, but empty inside. A warehouse, she thought, from the metal sides and the way the roof sloped. Not underground, which probably meant the place wasn't really that secure.
Doug was looking up at Quartz, who was in uniform, so all in tough white clothing, as he held her aloft. "Marcia! Nice to see you. Um, can I let you down without getting my butt kicked? It's been a day."
There was a chuckle, one that sounded a bit sultry, to tell the truth. Too much so, coming from the man's direct boss.
"Just this once I'll let it go. Not bad reflexes. I recognize everyone, but hadn't expected visitors. What's the situation?" There was paranoia in the words, rather than a warm welcome. It got worse when she narrowed in on Charity, too. "Make that almost everyone." She was still in the air, floating down gently, but her hands landed on hips as a single foot touched the ground, and she walked over to stand in front of the dark and small girl instantly. Before she got there Brian moved in, and actually nudged Marcia out of the way.
"A new friend, I bet." It could have sounded happy, and pleasant, but like everything the man said now, it came across as a threat that was worse than anything Marcia could have managed. Given that Charity was in a lot more danger from her than the man in black that was closing with her, that wasn't a great thing. Especially since, out of all of them, Proxy was someone she apparently recognized.
Except that, instead of jumping away in fear, which Bridget would have guessed as her go to move, the girl changed up, smiling almost instantly.
"Oh! You seem a lot different, in person. I thought you'd be mean or something. Sorry. Um, I'm Charity? I have some classes with Deidre. We were at school this morning, when the world blew up. I didn't have anywhere else to go." She didn't add the rest of the story yet, so Bridget did, getting that she wasn't the kind to really do that herself.
"Empath, projective and sensing. I don't know what her first is, but it's mild, regardless. Compassion, she thinks. We've been in some tense situations today and she hasn't shown anything too harsh. Probably a class three." She turned to the girl, curious and trying to be open about everything so Marcia wouldn't go off on them and get even more suspicious. "Is it just emotions, or can you do other feelings too? I mean, with Will earlier, that was close to mind control. She compelled someone to forget she was Infected. It was kind of sweet."
She spoke quickly, still holding Katarine, who wasn't trying to kill her anymore, just standing there herself. It probably looked like she was reuniting with her girlfriend to the others, but no one gave her any funny looks.
Almost no one. Olga, who had been on Spetnaz Ultima with Katarine, was looking at the scene with longing. Given that she knew that Bridget was just holding the dark haired woman so she wouldn't attack, that probably meant she was feeling a bit lonely. Smiling, Bridget let the girl in her arms go, and moved to give the giant woman a hug. The room wasn't filled with people, but there were about thirty of them, mainly along the walls, snacking on wrapped boxed things and drinking sodas.
Olga was both big and muscular. Not very pretty, but her face looked a bit dull, mainly. Like the pictures of Neanderthal women that Bridget had seen in her computerized school classes. Muscular and very strong however, as well as agile. Not in her own league, Bridget knew, being a class four with physical traits, but she carried enough muscle for a decent hug that had to look like a girl playing with a little doll to most of the onlookers.
"Olga! Have you been keeping them all in line?"
"Yes. In line, very well. Stressful, running like this." Her English was accented, but much better, even after only a few weeks. She understood a lot more than she knew the actual words, at least when it came to speaking them. That was pretty cool, since Bridget only knew a few hundred words of Russian, herself. Most of that had been learned from the new people that had been dumped on them after a spot of time travel. Time freeze? It was hard to know, but one minute their entire team had been in the late seventies, and next, boom, in twenty-fourteen. So, needless to say, they were facing a learning curve.
The giant woman, who did let her down, without trying to kiss her cheeks, was the new Team Two leader. Assistant leader, really, but Charles had been out in the field and Bridget didn't see him there yet. Hopefully they all made it.
Which reminded her of what she'd told the Major.
"Oh, yeah, I should go over that. The government knows that Doug and I were gone when the terrorist attack happened at the base. I hear it was the TCC. Anyway, we might be taken in, if the government really has plans that way, or who knows what. I mentioned that the field agents not there would be required to scatter, due to the protocols in case of this kind of thing. The rest of you are dead, so... That's really sad. It looks more real that way." She waited for the explosion to come, letting her know that she was a little idiot, or had ruined everything, but Brian just nodded at her, and didn't move in for a hug of his own.
That was because he still thought that she had the hots for him. They were related however, so she'd stopped that, and moved on. She did get a wave however, as Karen and her sister, Becky, walked over.
Lady Glory was famous, and Charity seemed to recognize her right off, the other one winked at her though.
"Hey Rat-rat. That sounds... Honestly it seems about right. It gives them, the government, a reason to think that everyone else should have run off, so it will look like a real attack. Not bad! You even got a new recruit and everything. I notice that you couldn't bother to get a cute guy for me though?" She had a nice face, which was a bit square and pale, but looked solid.
She wasn't, being dead.
A real live ghost, after a fashion. One projected into her mind, into all of their thoughts, so powerfully that she seemed real again.
"Well, you know, the cute boy got away. His parents were anti-Infected bigots though, so you might not want to marry him anyway. He did fill out his jeans nicely. Anyway, we came to bug Brian about some stuff. I guess everyone can sit in, but we should have a snack. I know that everyone has to be near starving by now." It was probably just her, but her tummy grumbled at the room fiercely enough that Karen jogged over to the side table and made up a heaping plate of junk food for her. It was all low quality stuff. The cheap kind that pretended to be a real brand, but everyone knew was really just colored sugar and flour mixed with enough flavors and oil to work.
So, to her mind at the moment, delicious.
She ate for a few seconds, before she forced herself to stop and look at Lady Glory, who was dressed like a soccer mom in blue slacks and a short sleeve cream colored blouse. She looked good, having makeup on and everything. Emergency fleeing for their lives or not.
"Thanks Karen. I need to eat more, I know." Then she did, with a will that was probably a bit inhuman, if she were going to be honest about it. Mary and Hobbs tried to explain their new plan, while not pointing out that the original version was intended to be something very different, or that Braid had pushed them into action. Which was a mistake, Bridget felt.
Brian listened, but kept looking at her and then Charity, his face trying to fight into something like a smile. It took her a minute to get
the general idea, and at first she wondered if he was thinking that she and the girl had a thing going already, but it wasn't that. It was just that Impulse had managed the day pretty well already. She hadn't gone on a killing spree, which she was willing to guess about half of the people had been thinking she would, for one thing. She'd also been helpful, honest and brave and all that crap.
Grinning she thought about that part a bit, since most of the time she'd been lying her ass off, but had stuck with it well enough, for her. The truth really did have a habit of just popping out of her, at inconvenient times. She had done that, it was true, but mainly she'd come up with stories that helped them all, and did a good job not giving away her secrets. So far. It would take consistent work however. Hobbs had assured her of that in every training session they'd ever had together.
There would never be a point where things were easy. If there was, it was a sign that you'd given up trying.
Everyone in the room listened to Hobbs, as he went over the rather grandiose idea for them, selling the idea on its own merits, rather than to save anyone. Merely being a plan to help the home world of some of them. He didn't speak of Devorah Timberland at any point, and suggested that only the people from that other realm need be a part of it. The IPB was already busy, running and hiding, so that just made sense. To him at least.
It was Karen that ruined that part of things, smiling at the red bearded man, who looked back at her with more caution than Bridget had ever seen on his face before. Buried under a grin of his own, but still there. Hesitant about what Lady Glory might say.
"We can probably help, some. I will, if you need me." Then, thankfully, she shut up. Karen could have a problem that way, when people needed help. Her compassion was famous in fact and almost uncontrollable. That meant anyone that needed something and who wasn't an a-hole, had to be pretty careful around her, or she'd give them the shirt off her back. Literally, at times, which could lead to some interesting problems. Topless pictures on the internet, and that kind of thing.
Bridget looked around, getting that some of the people in the room were going to have a problem with that basic idea, and that others would be willing to help, if it wasn't too dangerous. Since, as a group, the IPB was pretty solid as far as not being cowardly, the level of acceptable risk should be pretty high.
She started to giggle, but forced herself to take a few deep breaths, before speaking. The words that came from her were high pitched and a bit young sounding, but correct, she thought. That was important too. Not as good as being all stately and old, but people here were smart enough to understand that she wasn't a complete idiot, she hoped.
"We'll take volunteers for things, if it comes up. For now we should help with the planning and let me and Doug get back to Mary's so we can sleep." She nearly blurted out that it wouldn't be together, but no one even looked at her funny, so she held it in. It took work, but not that much, since she was able to just move on. "The Army will be back in the morning, and probably try to arrest us or something. It isn't too much of a threat for us, as long as they don't bring in super soldiers to kill us. In that case... Well, we'll run." That, or kill them all, but getting away from public spaces made sense, first.
About then Charlot walked into the room, looking pretty, and well made up, even if on the lam from the government. Her skin was flawless, and her hair permed to just the right level of curly to make it seem like she was about ten years younger than she really was. The tiny lines around her eyes gave that away. She scowled all the time, and after decades of it, no face cream or foundation was going to be enough to hide the fact that she was kind of a harsh person.
Bridget loved her anyway, but it could be a trial at times. She didn't hold back her scorn very often, and praise from her took effort. It wasn't enough to be a good daughter. Not normally. No, to get her mother to deliver a genuine pat on the back took near magic from Bridget, and it hadn't really happened very often in her life. Charlot tried, but that wasn't really enough, most days.
So she wasn't shocked or surprised at all when her mom glared at her, then everyone else, stomped over and grabbed her by the arm. It wasn't done too hard, since that could kick Impulse into action, fighting even if she didn't want to.
"There you are! I can't believe that Lancaster let you go off like that, without asking your father and I first. Come with me, young lady. We're putting an end to this. Now."
There was a dragging on her arm, so she went, not wanting to bother with this kind of thing anymore. She wasn't an adult, so had to put up with it.
For a little longer.
It wouldn't last long, however. That was all she had to cling to as she was propelled from the room, with everyone watching, thinking it was funny.
Like she was a joke.
Chapter four
It wasn't lost on her that Charlot was the one dragging her away like she'd been naughty again. It was about all she could do, and was close to being her big gun, as far as punishment went with Bridget. Scolding could work, but only to a point. If Bridget got mad, it would end up being a fist fight, and when one of them was a highly powered fighter, with high level training and a lot of practice, and the other a bag of meat, ready to break under the first blow, it left things a bit unbalanced.
Her dad didn't even try to spank her now, and hadn't for years. Since she was little she'd been too tough for anything normal to even be felt that way, and ramping up the power was asking for trouble. Besides, most of the time when she got in trouble it was actually a first mode issue and everyone, including her parents, cut her slack on it. If you had to fight constantly not to do whatever came into your head, and it was so strong a thing that it was best likened to a regular person trying to not pull their hand from a fire, then you could only ask so much.
That didn't mean Charlot wouldn't go after her at times. Her first mode was basically annoyance, and having a child that didn't perfectly do what she wanted, when she desired it done, was a problem for her. Bridget would have been one even if she was a regular girl, of course. That was a thing that had taken a long time for her to understand. Her mother wasn't trying to be mean or bad, she didn't have much of a choice. It affected their relationship, but they were family, as messed up as the situation was. They made it work. Mainly.
She cleared her throat, which got a glare from her mother.
"Seriously, mom... You don't have to propel me down the hallway. This place is bigger than I thought. Now, what gives? You're acting like I messed up, when I'm pretty sure that I nailed the whole thing today. Yes, it's a bit dangerous, for Doug, Mary and Charity, but, um... Well, it's kind of a war. Things are going to be like that at times. I'm not really at risk." She grinned, going for playful and charming, even if her mother hadn't let go of her arm yet, and was still frowning hard enough that it might just leave a new set of lines around her mouth if she didn't stop it soon. "I haven't been off going to concerts, or blowing soldiers for information either. Not yet. You don't think that would work, do you?" Her voice had gone honestly questioning on that part, since it was a real enough idea.
A lot of them would be young, and a bit ugly, which might mean they'd be willing to tell her a lot, for a little attention in return. Even better, she could get Charity to do it, which would probably be an easier sell to most of the men. Bridget knew that being as small as she was, most would think she was too young for that kind of thing, even if state law allowed it.
Her mother didn't seem to even hear her on that one. Instead she tugged at her arm, pulling in first one direction, and then pushing her back a step. Bridget was a lot stronger than her mother, by a factor that was measured in the hundreds of times, not just one or two. That didn't mean a person with more weight couldn't cause her to move a bit however, if they tried. The question there was, why would she bother doing that? She had to know that too much of that kind of thing would set her off. Or it would have, once upon a time. Now... Actually, she didn't even feel annoyed by it. Her control wasn't slipping at all, and Impu
lse was able to think, for once. Thought and a concentrated mind lead her directly to insight, which kind of shocked her.
"Ooooh! I get it. You're trying to get me to throw a fit, or do something violent, to prove how unreliable I am. Only, I'm not. Not that much, anymore at least. Plus, everyone knows it, so there's no real benefit to doing that. It won't change anything, anyway. I kind of have to be there in the morning, at Mary's when the soldiers come for us. Even if we just run away from them, they need to see it happening, or it will all look like a trick." She was about to clarify that one, but a familiar voice spoke from inside a room with an open door, off to the left.
"Which we can't allow to happen. For the time being, everyone truly needs to believe that we're dead." It was Kevin that spoke. Director Moore.
At least that used to be his title. Now he was pretty much just some old guy that she knew. Hopefully one that her mom was going to listen to still. So far his words had seemed like he was on her side, but that could change, if she wasn't careful. The man thought of her like a granddaughter, which meant he could err on the side of being protective of her too. A lot of people she knew were like that, really. They'd treat her not just like a little girl, but as if she were fragile and breakable. Even normal girls would be bristling under that, she bet. It was annoying, so she smiled a bit and relaxed.
Bridget felt herself pulled in that direction, and staggered a little again, nearly pulling back a lot harder than she was being moved around. That wouldn't have proved anything, so she held on and let her feet move off the ground as she was whipped unceremoniously into the room.
"Wheee!" She stuck the landing since it hadn't been that big of a deal, and smiled, opening her arms for the old man in his charcoal gray suit. He really was practically her granddad, after all. She'd known him her entire life and he'd gone out of his way to always be there for her. That rated a hug.
