And All My Dreams Torn Asunder (c) Darkside 2004

1. Prelude

 

Episode 1 - A Good End For The Beginning
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The showers that had been threatening that morning had now developed into a full scale thunderstorm, a fact that did not deter a man in a battered brown raincoat as held the miniature binoculars up to his brown eyes and looked longingly at the funeral cortege now lowering a deep brown mahogany casket into the open grave.

He would have given anything to be alongside the two women and a man, to comfort them in their grief, to reform the bonds of friendship that had just begun to heal after so many years of pain, so much pain. Yet this was the course of action he had chosen, he could have run away, to become anonymous in the sea of humanity. But, to him anonymity was not the same as vindication and running not the same as justice. So here he was, watching his best, no only friends in the world bury his past life in the ground and unconsciously commit his future to the only path now open to him.

He tried in vain to stifle back a tear, but the sight of the man gently and lovingly placing a red rose into the open grave was too much to bear. So much history, so much heart rendering pain had been wiped clean by that one final gesture. More than ever he wanted to run to the cortege and pick up where they had left off. To hear the tall blonde woman’s laugh again, to listen to the man’s stories of growing up in Iowa; to be part of their lives again…

A cell phone inside the man's coat pocket interrupted his thoughts and he quickly reached inside to answer it, "Hello?"

"Friday, this is Heinlein are you ready to proceed?"

"Can I just have a few more minutes?" the man asked. He desperately needed to see this thru to the end. It was as if he’d piled up all his belongings and this funeral was the sacrificial pyre of the past. It was a cathartic moment that he needed to have, an end to the past; true closure.

"You're needed to pick up the merchandise now."

"Ok will do, Heinlein?" the man asked. Why now, didn’t they know this was important!

"Yes Friday?"

"You're a bastard!" the man said bitterly and disconnected the call. Placing the cell phone back in his pocket the man gave another sigh. 'Only fifteen more years to go', he thought. But then, what's fifteen years when you have at least another century.

He walked back to the car he’d parked on a side street, blipped the remote to unlock the car. Shifted a small sports bag off of the driver's seat and got in. The engine started first time and putting the car into drive he drove off towards his destination across town.

Not wanting to let the scenes he’d just seen go, he selected a CD from the multi changer in the car and let the music play. It helped him commit things to memory. So much death, so much pain. Too much!

"I still remember the world
From the eyes of a child
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now

Where has my heart gone
An uneven trade for the real world
I want to go back to
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all

I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back
Somehow it seems colder now

Where has my heart gone
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
I want to go back to
Believing in everything

Where has my heart gone
an uneven trade for the real world
I want to go back to
believing in everything

Where had my heart gone
trapped in the eyes of a stranger
I want to go back to
believing in everything"

1. Debrief.
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It took over an hour to get back to the typical blue glass fronted office building he’d come from that morning. After collecting the bag from the car, he gave the receptionist a smile and walked to the metal detector gateway and a pair of armed guards demanded his ID and patted him down. He couldn’t help but smile at the irony, they were trying to find any weapons he might be carrying, when the reality was he was a weapon.

They waved him thru and he proceeded to take the elevator to the 10th floor. He walked past several smaller offices until he came to a set of double doors with a keycard lock. He took a card from his shirt pocket and swiped the lock. A green LED lit and after a small ‘click’ the door opened into a large conference room. The windows were blacked out, leaving only artificial light reflecting off of a deep mahogany table. A gray haired man dressed in a shirt and tie sat at the other end. He took a sip of water, took out a pen from his shirt pocket and opened a manila folder ready. "Friday, come in take a seat," the man’s voice showed a slight hint of irritation.

"Mind if I change first?" the man said glancing down at the sports bag.

"Not at all. Use the office next door. It’s suitably private."

Friday walked out of the room and into a small office next door. He placed the bag on the table and took out a pair of black shoes with a small heel, a shortish blue skirt, black panty hose, matching white lace bra and panties, white blouse, and finally a dark blue jacket.

Stripping off his clothes he stuffed them into the sports bag and did up the zip. Concentrating the man closed his eyes and felt the flesh on his body change and reform, hips and breasts grew, skin flowed and muscle changed.

A few seconds later ‘Friday’ reached over and put on the clothes she’d just got out. She rummaged around in the side of the sports bag and pulled out a small mirror.

A set of blue eyes, peered back at her surrounded by an elfin face with high cheekbones and delicate nose. Tumbling around the face was a mass of copper red hair. Friday searched in the bag again and pulled out a hair band and tied her new hair back into its usual pony tail. A cursory glance in at her reflection in one of the blacked off windows showed a slim athletic woman, about 5’8 dressed in a smart business suit. Friday nodded her head, "Better," she said out loud.

After making sure everything was packed away Friday swiped her card in the lock and walked inside the conference room.

The man at the other side of the table didn’t bat an eyelid at Friday’s new appearance. "Friday, I take it you’re feeling more at home now. Please sit down."

"Call me Elizabeth, please." Friday stated.

"Take a seat," the man said avoiding the request.

Friday walked over to the seat next to the man and sat down," So how’d I do?" she queried.

"You fucked up!" the man said in a matter of fact way and noticed the annoyance flicker across Friday’s face. "I’ll expect you want to know why?"

"It would be nice," Friday stated softly. The man's words had stung!

"You were asked to deliver a package, namely you and that bag to this place. Instead you took a little detour to watch your own funeral! We need you to obey the instructions we give you! Not go and do your own thing when you feel like it," there was no anger in the man’s voice. It was purely business.

"I told you I had personal business to attend to. It’s not as though it was life and death was it? I needed to go there, to watch and say goodbye. I needed to go there so I could be and stay focused for the real jobs, and not some relay race that doesn’t mean a damn."

"It’s not down to you what does and does not matter. I do as I’m told and so will you!" The businesslike tone had changed to that of irritation.

"That sounds like a threat?"

"It is. Your arrangement with us is purely because of your unique abilities and because the President said we needed you. If you were anyone else you’d be heading for the chair or at least a lifetime behind bars. Look," the man paused for a second. "You and I will never be given the full picture, but let’s give an example." The man’s tone was more conciliatory. "The man’s whose form you took. What if we wanted him to appear to be somewhere else, while the real man was say taken to a safe house. What if you were needed to be at a certain place at a certain time and by your little detour you put the real man’s life in danger?"

"But," Friday started to say. He had a point, but she had known it was a drill. She’d been dragged away from a key moment in her life for the sake of a practice run!

"What I’m trying to say is, do what I say and you’ll be fine. The positive side of it is that your disguise is impenetrable, and from the footage I’ve seen your changeling abilities give us a real edge. All you need now is training and experience," the man reached inside the manila folder and tossed a large letter sized envelope on the desk.

"What’s this?" Friday asked.

"Instructions."

"For what?"

"You’ll know when you open them," the man smiled.

"So when do I go away to ‘spy school’?" Friday asked, with a wry smile. She already knew the answer.

"You don’t. We need deniability in every operation you do. Anything we ask you to do will be denied at the highest level. You will be trained for each operation you need to do, and as you well know other than your new identity, and the salary we pay you, you’re on your own. According to us, you've never been on our payroll! Dr Elizabeth Bexley, or shall I say Miss Friday Carrell, we own you for the next fifteen years. You don’t go anywhere, do anything until we tell you to."

"I know all that!" Friday said. Feelings of being a prisoner welled up inside her once again.

"I’m glad to hear you say that. Now how’s everything else going?"

"If you call working as a waitress in a diner, a job it’s going fine. My apartment's a dive, I’ve no money and no career except for an organization that tolerates me at best and at worst wishes that had really been me they buried today," Friday understood the need to remain anonymous and to lay low but sometimes the sheer monotony got to her.

"I always say a little humility does wonders. We’ll be in touch, and think about what I said about following orders. Believe it or not I’m on your side. You have the potential to be a vital asset to us and the country; but don’t fuck with me."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," Friday said sarcastically.

Ignoring the jibe the man closed the folder, "Friday, dismissed. Oh and close the door behind you."

"Sir," Friday said and gave a single fingered salute, turned and walked out, deliberately leaving the door slightly ajar.

 2. Home
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Still fuming from her debrief Friday calmly walked out of the offices, bag slung over her shoulder and walked to the nearest bus stop. It was on days like this she wished she’d never cut the deal she had. The temptation to run and slip away was strong, but to her at least she had to somehow atone for her past. Too many lives lost, so, so many.

No doubt her funeral would make the evening news and some news reader or commentator would do yet another obituary piece on her. It never ceased to amaze her that some people saw her as a heroine, the savoir of millions and the person responsible for stopping a war. Everyone else either didn’t care or was glad that the world was rid of the evil Dr Bexley. Still, what the world thought didn’t matter that much, it was what those who regarded her as a friend did, and those people now thought she was dead, a simple suicide by someone who couldn’t face up to what she had done.

The stark reality staring her in the face was that she was confronting the past head on in the only way she could, on her own. She thought back to her debrief, it was clear that the agency was shit scared of her, Heinlein most of all. She was still thinking on this when the bus drew up and she got on board.

As she looked out of the window at the world amusing itself she found herself thinking about the sealed instructions. Were they her first mission? Or just another training run? She glanced out of the window and recognized a Coffee house which was a few blocks away from where she lived, not far to go.

She was the only person to get off of at her stop, which suited her fine. She just wanted to be alone. Five minutes later she walked into her apartment block and discovered that once again the elevators had broken. The walk up the stairs didn’t bother her, it was the depressing and grimy state of the apartments that did. Cheap low wattage bulbs, graffiti on the walls and threadbare carpet added to the thump, thump bass of overloud music hammering from some distant apartment did nothing to make her feel ‘home’. Yet at least for now this was as close to home as she had.

Thankfully her neighbors were out so at least she’d have some peace and quiet for a few hours, she threw the bag on the threadbare sofa and sat down next to it. She glanced sideways at the bag, wondering if she should open the envelope now or later. The frustrations of the day came back to her; she needed to let off steam and then have a shower before she started anything new. It was she thought like drawing a line under the day.

She got up and walked to her bedroom and stripped off the business suit, and hung it up next to her red and white striped waitress’s uniform, after collecting a black silk scarf from a drawer, she walked out and closed the door. She walked into her living room just in her lingerie, and ensured that the curtains were closed. She moved all the furniture out of the way leaving an open space for her workout. Back when she had money, she’d had her own gym, complete with pool now all she had was a small space in a rented apartment. Now all she needed was the workout gear from the cupboard at the back.

From the diner she’s managed to acquire some large sacks, with which she’d filled with fine sand and mounted on man, sized wooden poles. There was only enough room for six sacks but that would be enough. She checked the clock on the wall. 17:19:21.

She erected four in a tight V formation, as if they were about to attack her and the final two she’d put behind her. Now for one last thing, a small complication to make it more interesting. She took the silk scarf and bound it tightly round her eyes. Now all she could make out was a red hazy darkness.

"Playtime," she whispered and she concentrated on her arms. The fingers on her hands fused together and grew into solid white bone, with serrated edges. From out of each wrist grew a small solid tube about four inches long. The final enhancement she made was to adjust her vision to operate on another part of the spectrum and to grow small pits underneath her eyes to use sonar to locate objects. The room took on a purple hue’d black and white, but the layout and position of the sacks could clearly be seen.

She thrust out each bladed arm and felt the poison dart shoot from her wrists and punch a hole in the far left and right sack, simultaneously she had jumped into the air and back flipped so that she was coming down on the two sacks behind her, she’d managed six slashes with her blade hands before she landed and was immediately on her feet as she launched a drop kick at one of the front sacks. Moments before it struck, her foot reshaped into another cutting blade that scythed thru the sack, spilling sand everywhere. A quick recovery roll saw her behind the four sacks and she again shot two poison darts into the one unmarked sack. Slashing out with both arms she scythed the tops off the sacks in front of her. Job done!

Concentrating once more she felt her blade hands reform into fingers, tubes grow back into her wrists and her foot once more becoming toes instead of cutting bone. She removed the blindfold from her eyes and surveyed the room.

The two sacks that had been behind her had three vertical slashes each about 8 inches long and they were spewing sand all over the floor. A certain fatal wound. Of the four sacks in front of her three had two poison darts in each, and all four had been ‘decapitated’ and had lost a third of the sand. Again four fatalities. She glanced up at the clock again, 17:20:10. The whole thing had taken 49 seconds , subtract 40 seconds for various messing around and the take down of six ‘bad guys’ had taken less than 10 seconds. Not bad given the circumstances and she’d not even broken sweat. It was just a shame she wasn’t allowed to use the agencies training rooms!

Her thoughts turned to the letter and the shower she’d promised herself. She walked to the bathroom, the clearing up and the letter would wait. Hot water beckoned.

3. Mission
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It took nearly an hour to sweep up and bag the sand that had been scattered all over the floor, an hours work for 10 seconds play didn’t seem that bad when one considered the release it gave. Wrapping the towel around her red hair, Friday moved the furniture back to its usual position, opened the bag and sat down. Picking up the envelope she tore at the seams and opened it. Inside was another envelope containing a locker key stamped 2678, small Kodak memory card, a passport and an airline ticket. Picking up the memory card she walked over to a drawer and fished out a small digital camera. She inserted the card into the camera and switched it on. Text appeared in the small LCD screen.

"Friday.

You wanted a mission and more training. This is your opportunity for both, "Friday clicked the next button on the camera and a new screen of text appeared.

"You are to fly to Seoul and after collecting your kit from an airport locker (key enclosed) drive to the Osan US airbase. After presenting your credentials you will be flown to a secret location in North Korean territory," she clicked next.

"There you will pick up one of our employees, who has been spending some time with the North Koreans and wishes to go home," Fuck! So much for a milk run! She clicked next.

"Once you have collected our employee, then he will become your trainer for future missions. He is the only person other than myself who you are permitted to demonstrate your abilities, or to reveal your real identity to," next!

A photo appeared of a man in his mid thirties, with short cropped blonde hair and a distinctly unshaven look. His brown eyes had a look of intelligence and humor. She committed the face to memory and clicked next.

"This is Steven Grayson. Height 6’2, weight 240lb’s. He disappeared while on a mission two years ago to investigate the threat posed by genetic weapons(yours!)." So that was the connection! Was this Steve Grayson supposed to keep an eye on her? She pressed the next button.

"We have arranged an exchange with the North Korean government, and do not anticipate any problems. Everything has been pre arranged and cleared."

Friday didn’t believe that for a moment. Sure everything had been pre-arranged, but things change. She clicked next, "Once you have collected him then a lift has been arranged from Osan back to the US.

After clicking next a message appeared reminding her to format and dispose of the memory card. After quickly formatting the card, she turned the camera off and ejected it. She walked over to the stove and switched it on to 400F, and got out some tinfoil and placed it on baking tray. She then put the memory card on the foil in tray and placed it inside the oven. Thinking back to her upcoming helicopter ride over the jungle, she smiled and said "I love the smell of plastic in the morning!"

Walking back over to the sofa she picked up the ticket and saw the date. She flew out 6am tomorrow. She then checked her passport, who was she supposed to be?

Since it always took a while to get used to face or body and make it appear fully natural she decided to change now so that when she woke she’d feel right at home. The details on the passport indicated that only a facial change was required, which was useful because she had no clothes here to suit anything more radical. Taking a last look at the photo she concentrated and felt her skin and flesh reshape. A few moments later she surveyed her new appearance in a mirror.

She had similar facial features, but with brown eyes and a slightly larger nose. Maybe her cheeks were a little fuller, but not that unattractive. Her hair still retained a copperish tint but it was more brown than red. It was she decided, a good traveling face. Of course she’d need to change back to Friday before she got to the airbase as her ID had Friday’s face on it, but that didn’t matter! At last she felt as though she was getting somewhere!

She quickly packed what things she had, and decided to wear the business suit outfit again for the trip to the airport. With luck she’d get bumped up to first class.

Deciding to have an early night she got into her nightshirt, set the alarm for 3am and within moments was fast asleep.

The taxi ride to JFK airport was uneventful, except for a taxi driver who just wouldn’t shut up. No matter who she was, or where she was going why did she always get the annoying drivers. Matthew never did, Kat didn’t either and Cathline just took a limo. It was she decided God’s way of punishing her.

She checked in just before the desk closed and sat down at the departure lounge. Her thoughts drifted back to her friends, Matthew, Kat and Cathline and she wondered how they were doing. She thought about Kat, who must now be getting morning sickness and otherwise enjoying pregnancy. She wondered if Kat had sussed out that the baby she carried wasn’t that of her husband’s but a clone of her. One that’d she implanted during an operation to save Kat’s life. Probably not, that revelation would come much later on, by then it would be too late. Her daughter would be their daughter and as loved as if she were biologically theirs.

The reality of her situation caused waves of sorrow and loss to sweep over her. She had a daughter who she would never see grow up, never be able to hold or even tell how much she loved her. Still, she thought at least her daughter would be brought up by two of the most loving and caring people she knew. Which was better in the long term, to know your parents as two loving people of integrity and compassion or that your mother was responsible for the deaths of millions? Somehow part of her didn’t think the trade was a good one, and yet like everything in her life right now it was another part of the price she had to pay. Part of the judgment she had imposed on herself as penance for her crimes.

When her fifteen years were up she’d go somewhere else, be someone else neither Friday, nor Dr Elizabeth Bexley but someone she could start afresh with. She’d tried it once before until fate had intervened and forced her to resume her path of hatred and vengeance. Deciding that wallowing in things she couldn’t change was counterproductive her thoughts turned to the task in hand.

Clearly Heinlein had decided that she was better paired off with someone who at least could keep an eye on her, rather than leaving her as a loose cannon or freelancer. Quite what this Steven’s role would be or even what hers would be going forward she wasn’t sure. She was originally told that she’d be a courier, taking and collecting things from ‘A to B’ where her changeling abilities were required to infiltrate into ‘A’ and get out again. Sure, she could understand the need for collecting and dropping stuff off too sensitive to trust anyone or anything else to do; but her first mission to ‘rescue’ this guy indicated they had something else in mind for her also. Admittedly, in this case she was effectively collecting and dropping off but she’d expected her parcels to be of the paper type. Another more worrying thought struck her, was she losing her edge?

A few weeks ago she’d masterminded a plan to stop a war between Israel and the entire Arab world, that plan also included her avoidance of the death penalty, the continuance of her DNA in the form of the baby Kat now carried and lastly ensuring that the world wouldn’t pay her any more attention. Now although her path was clear, she was no longer in full control of her destiny. Losing the initiative felt strange and alien. It was, she decided, something she’d need to work on to get back again. Again it was nothing she could fix right now, so she put it to one side and waited for her call.

By carefully altering her body chemistry Friday was able to sleep the entire 14 hours of the flight, even though she hadn’t managed to get bumped up to first class. The first thing that struck her as she walked down the ramps of the plane was the heat, and the second was the humidity. Already the fat guy’s shirt in front of her was stained with sweat, and even for her the heat was uncomfortable. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to spend too long here, or at least it wouldn’t take hours to get through customs.

She flashed her passport at the waiting customs officials and passed through without a second glance. The ease in which she could flit between borders, never ceased to amaze her. But as far as everyone in the world knew every changeling was dead and buried, so there was no need for stricter controls. Even then the controls they could impose would be of limited use, so for now at least she was safe.

It took her half an hour to find the correct locker, and inserting the key she opened the door. Inside was a green khaki US Air Force issue hold all. She casually pulled it out of the locker, slung it over her shoulder and headed for the nearest ladies washroom.

Once inside the cubicle she opened the hold all and pulled out a US Air Force uniform, an ID and some dog tags. Glancing down at the ID it showed her normal Friday body with the name of ‘Lt Friday Carrell’. She gave a smile, commissioned already. Further investigation of the hold all showed temporary transfer orders from Ramstien airbase in Germany to Osan, South Korea, signed by Major General Jack Clarke. She stripped off, put the dog tags over her neck, slipped into the uniform and concentrated. Seconds later, now back in her Friday body, she adjusted her cap, put her civilian clothes into the hold all and walked out.

Even as an Air Force Lieutenant she didn’t raise an eyebrow. It wasn’t that uncommon to see US military, although she did get a few admiring glances from men as she walked passed. There must be, she decided something very attractive about a woman in uniform, even if the uniform felt a little itchy against her skin. She hailed a cab, slung her back next to her and told the cab driver her destination, after sitting back in the cool air conditioned rear she waited for the inevitable torrent of questions and inane small talk.

She was not disappointed.

Much to her relief the cab drew up outside the entrance to the airbase. After paying the fare she picked up her hold all she walked to the gate.

She gave the MP at the gate a salute, "Lt Friday Carrell reporting," she handed the MP the letter which he then inspected and handed back.

"Hold on," he commented and placed a call via his walkie talkie. A few seconds later he clipped it back on his belt and said, "You’re all clear Ma'am, you’re to report to Colonel Decker, building 32, second the right. Need a lift?"

"The walk will do me good," Friday commented. She needed time to gather her thoughts and it would help her adjust to the heat and humidity.

After a 20 minute walk, interspersed with the deafening noise of F16’s and especially F15’s taking off and landing she knocked on the door of Colonel Decker. "Come in," a thick Texan drawl called out from the room.

Friday walked in the room, saluted a thick set, balding man sitting behind the desk and stood to attention and saluted, "Lt Friday Carrell reporting as ordered sir," she handed her papers to the colonel who took them and gave them a quick glance.

The colonel returned the salute, "Very good Lieutenant, at ease."

"Thank you sir!" Friday stood at ease, and nearly smiled it felt so odd pretending to be in the military.

"Take a seat Lieutenant."

"Thank you sir," and Friday sat down, by now her uniform felt very warm and uncomfortable.

"So you’re who the spooks sent to go on this little trip?"

"Yes sir," She noted the look of derision on the colonel’s face and lack of eye contact.

"Get yourself freshened up, and meet your pilot in 90 minutes. We’ve got a Blackhawk getting prepped on pad 11. In the meantime feel free to use the showers in the women’s quarters," again the colonel didn’t make eye contact he obviously disliked these kind of ‘JFDI’ missions.

"Sir, yes sir!"

Without looking up the Colonel barked, "Dismissed Lieutenant."

Friday stood up, gave the Colonel another salute and walked out into the sunshine. She followed the signs to the female quarters, and she had to admit it was kind of gratifying to be saluted as she walked along. A few minutes later she was enjoying a warm refreshing shower.

An hour later and feeling thoroughly refreshed Friday walked outside and made her way to the helicopter. The green painted Blackhawk sat on the pad, looking like some green insect waiting to take to the air.

"You been in one before Lieutenant?" A voice said from behind her.

Friday turned around to face the pilot, who then gave her a salute, She returned it and said, "Not a Blackhawk sir, no."

"I used to fly AH64’s. But I got tired of being shot at. Captain Richard Murdock," the man held his hand out, which Friday then shook.

Friday introduced herself, "Lieutenant Friday Carrell sir."

"We should be ready to go in about 15 mins. I’ve been given our destination but not the mission. It’s not everyday we get a trip across the border."

"I would think not," That was just typical Heinlein! He tells the pilot where to fly to but not what he’s doing there, and tells her what they’re doing there but not where to go.

"Anyway, wanna help me with the checks?" Richard asked.

"I’m not rated on these," Friday said neatly avoiding her lack of knowledge.

"That’s ok all you need to do is read this," Richard said reaching into the cockpit and pulling out a clipboard, "All the big stuff has been done. The flight crew see to that. But, as you well know something's are down to the pilot."

Friday nodded, "Yeah. Where are we up to?"

"Instrument double check," Richard replied.

Fifteen minutes later Friday at put on her flight helmet, performed a radio check and strapped herself in next to Richard. There was a whine as the rotors started and seconds later they were in the air.

"We’ll be over the border in 5 minutes," Richard said, "I’ve just radioed our flight path and ID to the North Korean Air Force. A couple of MiL24’s will meet us at the border and escort us to the LZ."

Friday nodded, and tried to ignore the nerves she was feeling. Why was she nervous? She looked out at the ground below, she must be over the DMZ by now as a huge swath of jungle had been cleared and she could just make out the guard towers, gun emplacements and razor wire that stretched as far as she could see.

Minutes later she heard the distinctive sound of another helicopter drawing closer.

"HIND D’s" She heard Richard state.

The helicopters he was referring to Friday’s untrained eye looked as vicious as hell. Slung underneath each winglet were two missiles, and what looked to be unguided rocket pods. Jutting out of the nose was an evil looking chaingun.

"Don’t worry, it’s all been cleared," Richard said, and Friday admired the calm in his voice. They flew on and didn’t deviate from the 22 degree heading they had been on since they’d taken off.

Twenty minutes later Richard bought the Blackhawk to a hover and Friday glanced down at a small jungle clearing seemingly no bigger than the helicopter itself. Her sharp eyes picked out 2 APC’s and a tank hiding in the jungle below. Their escorts climbed and started to circle, "Down there," Richard gestured.

Expertly and without incident Richard touched down, "Ok Lieutenant over to you. I’ll keep the engines running."

Friday took a deep breath, took off her flight helmet and jumped out of the Blackhawk. She saw that the clearing was larger than she thought, and that there were in fact two tanks not the one. A figure climbed out of the tank on the right and beckoned her to walk towards him. Friday did so, and gave the North Korean officer a salute, which was then returned.

The officer shouted something out, and a figure was bundled out of one of the APC’s. The face was a little thinner than the photo but it seemed to be the guy she was supposed to meet. Interesting, Friday thought he looked taller in real life.

"Man are you a sight for sore eyes," she heard Steve call out.

Friday turned to the officer and asked, "Can I take him now?"

The officer gave a nod and retreated back to the tank, leaving Friday and an exhausted looking Steve in the middle of the clearing. "Time to go," she stated and walked over to Steve.

Steve walked the remaining 10 feet or so to her and Friday turned back to the chopper.

Then it went straight to hell.

Friday felt a burning stabbing pain in her shoulder before she heard the machine gun rounds. The impact threw her to the floor and her instinctive reaction was to fight back. She felt Steve grab her hand, and drag her upright as heavy caliber bullets flew around them. She was about to allow her body to heal the wound, before she remembered that there were several enemy soldiers who she in no way could take down, and that her very existence was a state secret. Therefore healing the wound had to wait. She instinctively ducked as a bullet whistled passed her head. Only a few more feet to go. She saw flashes of sparks as bullets raked the Blackhawk. Fuck!

She saw Steve dive into the rear of the Blackhawk, and fractions of second she followed him and the Blackhawk took off.

Friday could feel the wetness of blood on her uniform, and now she was clear of the soldiers she could at least stop the blood, "Let me have a look at that?" Steve asked.

"It’ll be fine. It’s stopped bleeding" Friday said.

"Is she ok?" Richard's voiced called out from the intercom.

"She says so," Steve replied went to strap Friday in.

"I’m FINE!" Friday snapped and strapped herself in.

"Woah, only trying to help," Steve said defensively, and did his seatbelt up.

"Guys, we have another problem!" Richard exclaimed.

"The enemy helicopters?" Friday asked.

"Yeah, hold on, They’re not closing so we should be able to lose them. Strange..."

Friday felt the Blackhawk dive until she could almost reach out and pull the leaves from the treetops. The Blackhawk lurched and dived for what seemed an eternity, Richard's pleased sounding voice came over the speakers, "Lost em! We’re clear!"

"Thank God for that," Friday muttered.

"We haven’t been introduced, Steven Grayson," Steve said with a nod.

Friday decided to hold fire on the real intro until later, and besides Richard could be listening in "Lieutenant Friday Carrell."

"Man, am I Pleased to meet you Lieutenant. I thought we’d had it back there!"

Friday thought back to the firefight, in spite of the hail of heavy caliber weapons they had been remarkably inaccurate, "I think they let us escape. They had tanks so why not fire a shell into the chopper. In addition they had at least 3 heavy caliber machine guns, let alone assault rifles. At that distance we should have been cut down! Let alone those Gunship’s not following us after we’d taken off."

Steve thought for a moment, he studied the red headed Lieutenant. In spite of her looks there was more to her than at first glance. She was spot on in her analysis though, "But why let us go, and why shoot at us if you are trying to miss?"

Friday glanced at her wounded shoulder, and hoped that they could get back soon so she could fix it "That’s question of the day. Maybe it was just to make a political point?"

Steve shrugged, "Dunno."

Matthew’s voice came over the speakers, "We’re just over the DMZ now, 20 more seconds and we’re back over our side of the line."

Friday breathed a sigh of relief, so much for an easy first mission. But at least she’d made it intact, well pending an easily fixable bullet wound to her shoulder.

"That’s it guys, Welcome to sunny South Korea!" Richard called happily.

Friday glanced out of the window, acres of thick, dense, rolling jungle was as far as the eye could see, good job they had GPS; everything looked the same. From the corner of her eye she saw a smoke trail flying up towards them and suddenly a huge bang shook whole chopper and it lunched, as if in slow motion it plunged into the trees and it all went black.

A stabbing pain awoke Friday an indeterminate time later. It was coming from the region of her chest, blurry eyed she looked down and saw that a large section of fuselage about five inches wide and two feet long had pierced her chest cavity, gobs of blood were trickling down the fuselage and were dripping onto the floor. "Fuck!" She breathed. She glanced over at Steve, apart from a gash on the forehead he was unconscious but otherwise ok.

Gathering all her remaining strength, she concentrated on her arms. Her muscle tone changed as her arms reformed to give the strength she needed to extricate herself. Grasping the fuselage in both hands she gently pulled it away from her, making sure that her body repaired any internal damage as she extricated herself. Repairing her primary set of heart, lungs and other organs would come later. The important thing was to stop the internal bleeding and hemorrhaging. Her body had automatically slowed the blood loss, but it needed to be stopped altogether and the only way to do that was get free. She pulled the fuselage ’spear’ inch by inch out of her chest, crying out in pain after each pull. Blood covered her hands, and some of her flesh was torn out she carefully manipulated the jagged section out of her chest. Five minutes later she was free and the internal bleeding had been stopped.

She managed to stagger 50 yards before exhausted, covered in her own blood she lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground.

The next thing she felt was water running over her face, "You ok Lieutenant?"

Friday managed to open her eyes to see Steve kneeling over her with a canteen of water. "Steve," she managed to say.

"Just lay still, I’ve no idea how you survived the crash, but we need to get you to a hospital. I still can’t work our where all that blood came from though as you’re not showing signs of any new injuries and I checked for internal bleeding. The good news is, is that you’re ok, well at least as far as I can tell. That bullet wound will need fixing though. I disinfected it while you were out."

What else had Steven seen? Maybe she should have left at least some outward sign of the crash. Too late now though! Richard, where was Richard? "Richard, the pilot?" Friday asked.

"Dead, we hit the trees head on. At least it was quick," Steve replied sadly.

"Fuck!" Friday could feel her strength slowly start to come back, enough to stand up if not to use on fully repairing her internal injuries. At least that was the plan. She tried to stand and yet found herself stumbling only to be caught by Steve, "Hey slow it down Lieutenant, nothing to prove to me!" Steve commented softly as he gently lowered her to the ground.

She must have lost more blood than she thought. She looked around at the jungle that seemed to enclose around them. The chopper had crashed almost directly downwards into the base of some large trees, meaning the wreck wouldn’t be spotted easily from the air. The spinning rotor blades had cut deep swathes into the ground, and had then promptly bent and contorted into twisted metal. The rear rotor and tail section had gone, and showed signs of an explosion. The front cabin had been almost squashed flat and much of the nose had buried itself in the ground, Richard the pilot had had no chance. The rest of the fuselage had concertinaed up but had survived remarkably well considering. She could just make out a set of bloody footprints leading from the wreckage to where she had collapsed, hers.

"How we doing?"

"I had a check. The bad news is that the radio’s screwed and the emergency beacon is shot to hell, the good news is that we’ve maps, food and water and working GPS handhelds."

That at least was something, "Aren’t we supposed to blow up the chopper?" Friday asked. Maybe the smoke would draw attention from any rescue party.

"We’re on our side of the lines, no need to blow it up. Besides do you really want to start a forest fire? We can either stay here or try and walk to the nearest village."

"And how far is that?" Friday wasn’t sure how far she could walk at the moment, give it overnight and some food and drink and she’d be fine.

"About 25 miles. You look in no state to travel. We’ll wait here until dawn. I suspect they’ll be out looking for us come the morning and we’ve a few flares left, so I’ll fire a few of those up when I hear the rescue helicopter."

"I could do with a drink," Friday said. She was famished.

"Sure," Steve said and passed her a canteen.

Friday drank it dry and immediately felt better, "Thanks."

"By the looks of the damage to the tail I’d say we were hit by some kind of missile," Steve suggested, gesturing towards the twisted wreck.

"I saw a smoke trail moments before we were struck. Thing is, it was fired from our side of the border?" Friday commented.

Steve pointed at the blackened and twisted tail assembly "Probably a shoulder launched missile, Stinger or SA-14. Like you said, why fire at us from our side of the lines? Maybe someone got a little trigger happy, only the enquiry will tell for sure. Yet another mystery."

Steve found the remains of a tree, pulled it over to where Friday was sitting and sat down, "I’ve another mystery for you!" Steve said glancing at Friday’s shredded and blood soaked uniform.

Here it comes thought Friday. There hadn’t been enough time to clear things up.

"How in hell did you survive the crash? I went over the wreck and saw flesh hanging from a bent and twisted section of fuselage right where you would have been sitting. There’s also at least three pints of blood all over the floor and judging by the state of your uniform the fuselage must have gone right thru you. So taking all this into account why aren’t you dead?"

Friday took a deep sigh. She wasn’t ready for this and she felt so tired, "Can we talk about it another time? I’m really tired."

"Ok, I guess you’ll tell me when you’re ready. I’ll take first watch," Steve said in a disappointed tone. Friday smiled inwardly, no doubt the mystery would help keep him awake.

Within moments Friday was asleep, by morning most of her internal primary organs would have repaired themselves. She could have done it faster, but the last thing she needed was to use so much energy so that she would need hospital treatment. Better do things slower and raise fewer questions.

When Friday woke up dawn was just breaking and Steve was still sitting on the log, but this time he had lit a fire and was boiling some water. "Morning sleepyhead," he said with a smile.

"How come we’re still here?" Friday asked.

"I’ve not seen a chopper all night, they won’t start looking for real until day anyway and they’d leave it 12 hours before calling a search, so it looks like it’s just us for a few more hours. Anyway, how are you feeling?"

"Starving," Friday was famished. The rest had done her good. The injury caused by the fuselage had all but been repaired, only the bullet wound remained and that could be fixed in seconds when she was sure security wouldn’t be breached.

"Starving is good for a dead woman," Steve said with a curious grin.

"I could say it’s on a need to know basis," Friday replied.

"And I don’t need to know." Steve said in a resigned tone. Typical!

"Actually you do," Friday said. If Steve was to be her trainer and he was supposed to know then it had to come sooner or later.

Steve looked up, "Tell on."

"What do you know about genetic weapons?" Friday asked.

"A little, the mission I was on before I was captured was to discover who was developing them. You’ve heard of Dr Elizabeth Bexley?"

Friday did her best poker face, "Vaguely." She said dispassionately,

"Well as you may know Dr Bexley with the assistance of TGEN Labs developed a drug that would alter the genetic structure of whoever or whatever it was exposed to. Now instead of using it to cure cancer, save millions of lives etc she used it to take revenge on the man who’d jilted her at the altar."

"Yeah I remembered that bit. Fucked him up big time," It was getting hard for Friday to stay focused. So much hurt and pain were wrapped up in that one sentence.

Steven nodded, "Literally! She turned him into a copy of her and sold his then wife into slavery. Perverted if you ask me, but she was completely insane, brilliant but insane nonetheless."

"Then what happened?" Nothing Steve had just said she could deny or disagree with.

"She hired a terrorist organization called the Guild to be her hired guns, to be the agents of her bitter and twisted revenge. Last I knew she’d killed around 18 people directly and fuck knows how many she got the Guild to kill off. She even set it up so that the guy she transformed got the rap for murder. As I said, a real bitch."

"I think it was more people than that!" Friday said sadly. Shit! it was all flooding back now, the madness, the death, the terror and the loss. All of it!

"Anyway last I knew, the guy she’d transformed and a few of the survivors managed to track her down and kill her. They handed over the plans for the genetic manipulation systems to us before destroying them. My mission was to find out who, if any had managed to get the plans before they destroyed them. The fact that you asked me about genetic weapons means someone did get hold of them."

Friday nodded and had to flick back a tear, "Yes they did and it’s all my fault!"

Steve stared at the tears forming on Friday’s face, "How so?"

Friday wiped the tears from her face. This was harder than she ever expected "You see Dr Elizabeth Bexley wasn’t killed with the fight with the survivors. She escaped."

"Ah and you let her escape?" Steve Interrupted.

"In a sense yes," Friday swallowed back more tears, "You see the reason why I blame myself for her escape is that I am her!"

"WHAT!" Steve exclaimed.

"Yeah meet, Ms Friday Carrell, of the CIA, codename Friday, AKA Lieutenant Friday Carrell, alias Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley, at your service," Friday gave a half hearted salute.

"HOLY SHIT! How in the FUCK?" Steve stood up and backed away.

"Let me fill you in on what’s been going on these past two years. Yes someone did copy the designs of my machines. Those people were the Guild you talked about earlier. They used those machines to manufacture genetic warheads that would destroy any human life it came into contact with."

"And you helped them!" Steve stared at Friday. How could his savoir be a mass murderer!

Friday swallowed "Only under extreme duress. In the materials you were given, did it include details on an organ capable of manufacturing the genetic alteration drug, based on the thought patterns of the person it was installed in?"

"Yes, that was the thing that was the most worrying. I think it was called a changeling organ," Steve was starting to put the pieces together.

"The Guild forced me to develop this changeling organ. I did so, but installed a superior version in myself first. The ones I gave the Guild were less capable, but alas very effective."

"Alas?"

Friday nodded, "You see the Guild used the changeling organs I created to replace several world leaders and other dignitaries. They then launched the genetic warheads they made against Tel-Aviv. The attack was devastating; the entire city was wiped out. Half million men, women and children dead because of my failure to stop the Guild."

"Stop them?" Steve asked. Half a million dead!

"I was trying to stop the Guild launching the attack, with help from inside I’d recruited several Guild members who tried to stop it. But we were too late. I made a huge miscalculation and as a result the 500,000 people are dead," Friday sniffed away new tears.

"What did Israel do?"

"Do you remember the Fury Directive?" Friday asked.

"Yeah, what an over reactive hair brained thing that is! I think when what you’d developed got out, the entire world panicked. If I remember rightly, at the time it was compared to the development of atomic weapons."

"That’s an understatement. As you know the Fury directive calls for a like for like retaliation against any nation who uses genetic weapons. The Guild framed Egypt for the attack on Tel-Aviv, and the world leaders they replaced ensured that Israel would launch a nuclear strike against Cairo."

"Holy mother of God!" Steve breathed.

"The attack went ahead and thirteen and a half million people were killed. Look, can we stop now. This is getting too painful,"

"We could or you could tell me the rest and maybe help you in the process," Steve looked at Friday’s tear stained face. It had suddenly seemed to age 20 years, the weight of guilt and all those lives had clearly taken their toll. Rightly so.

"And then there was a war?" Steve asked.

Friday decided she’d got this far so she may as well finish it off, "No. My plans to stop the Guild finally came to fruition. Not in time to save Cairo or Tel-Aviv, but to avert a new holocaust in the Middle East. I exposed the whole Guild operations across the globe, and they ended up reporting to the UN to act as peacekeepers for the treaty I drafted. I used the plans for my DNA system to recreate the system so that I could turn back everyone I could, and then it and all the related material was destroyed as well."

"So why did the Guild do all this, the attack etc?" Steve asked.

"Power. They wanted to pull the strings in the Middle East from behind the scenes by wiping out Israel they’d gain a lot of kudos from the Arab Nations, as well as being in prime place to pick the pieces up left by the war; that and settling old scores with Egypt for nearly wiping the Guild out hundreds of years ago."

"So what happened to the changelings?" Steve asked.

"Killed! We exposed the whole thing and the respective governments had them assassinated. Two per government, 10 in total."

"That many! So I guess everyone’s got changelings now, well the organs anyway."

"No I’m the only one left. The Guild changelings had a failsafe built in. On the death of the host the organs created a chemical which would break down the genetic structure of the host, leaving only a protein soup. It was pure fluke we managed to get one out before the failsafe triggered. We then sent pieces of it to the security services worldwide as evidence." Memories of that titanic struggle with the changelings in the US came flooding back to her. It was not an experience she wanted to repeat, or even one she expected to survive.

"Fuck that’s bad! Ok I can understand how a changeling can change shape, but not how you managed to survive the crash"

"As I said, my changeling organ is an advanced design. If it exists in nature I can replicate it, bullet proof organic armor, razor sharp bone, poison darts, eyes that operate in ultra violet, increased sensory perception, superior speed, strength and reaction times. By sampling someone’s DNA I can become an exact copy of them, by looking at a photo I can become a very, very close facsimile. All this takes a matter of seconds.

I can heal, well regrow really pretty any part of my body at will which means I can repair bullet and pretty much every other type of wound. In order to ensure my survival I’ve grown a smaller secondary set of lungs, heart, kidney and other vital organs. If my main ones are damaged these kick in until they can be regrown. You were correct, the piece of fuselage went right thru my chest cavity, destroying my main set of lungs and heart. The spares kicked straight in, albeit limiting me to not doing much until I could regrow the originals."

"Holy fuck! Then you can’t be killed!" Steve was gob smacked.

"Yes I can, but not easily. Each change burns a hell of a lot of calories. This was the most I’ve ever been injured," Friday studied Steven’s face. It was a mixture of curiosity and horror. She wasn’t sure if helped her or not.

"So what can kill you?" Steve asked.

Friday smiled, "Not on a first date," something told her that something’s were best left for Steve to find out. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, she didn’t trust anyone.

"So basically your backup systems kicked in until you could fix the proper ones. Very impressive! You said that the Guild had less advanced versions," Steve asked.

"That’s what I thought, their changeling organs could manage on 4 or 5 changes and had limited repair abilities. With each use the drug would cause mental degradation or instability, so basically the changelings that replaced the world leaders were a one shot deal. However one changeling had one that was pretty much the same as mine. I hope to God I never have to fight another one like it, because although I’m intelligent and resourceful I’m no trained assassin. It was pure fluke I managed to kill him before he killed me."

"So how’d you kill him, it?" Steve asked.

The use of the word it stung! Did Steve think of her as an it now? Why did she even care what he thought? Putting that to one side she answered, "I injected him with a poison, that as he produced the changeling drug, it also increased the poison. Eventually it triggered off the failsafe that the Guild had built in and that killed him. As I said, a fluke."

"Interesting, So, how come you’re working for the CIA now?" Steve mulled, "Breakfast!" he said passing Friday one of the survival ration packs that had been in the boiling water.

"Call it the requirements of justice. As a reward for stopping the war the President gave me a conditional pardon. The condition being that I work for the CIA for 15 years. They faked my suicide and here I am! If you want to know more, a lady called Cathline Richards has written it all down in a book. Anyway; we’ve heard my story what about you?"

Steve shrugged, "Not much to tell. As I said I was sent on a mission to discover who if anyone had stolen the, sorry, your genetic tech. The number one candidates were the Guild, so I went to Libya to try and find out more. That was two years ago. The Guild captured me and slung me in some hole in the ground hoping to use me as a double agent. When that didn’t work they shipped me off to one of their bases in North Korea."

Friday noted the understatement in Steven’s story. Knowing what Cathline had gone thru at the hands of the Guild It must have been hell for him, "How come they didn’t kill you?

"Much too useful as leverage I guess. Some days I wish they had! Anyway it was about two months ago I was told I could go free and they cut me loose. I was picked up by the North Korean military and after a lot of debate they decided as a good will gesture to hand me back, and that’s me."

Friday picked up the now cooling survival ration and ate it ravenously. Her body cried for calories, and this was only enough to drive the craving temporarily away. She had burned up almost her entire reserves just ensuring that the crash hadn’t killed her and in repairing her wounds. She needed to replenish them as soon as she could.

Steve picked poked the fire some more with a stick. So the woman that had rescued him was none other than Dr Elizabeth Bexley, complete with a built in lethal weapon. He wasn’t sure how it made him feel, whatever it was, safe was not the word he would have used. He had to know her full capabilities, "So you won’t tell me what will kill you. What are your limitations?"

Friday looked up, "Not still on that are we? The short answer is I don’t know. When I was fighting the Guild I took on about 30 of the Guild Leaders personal death commando's or Fedayeen at once. The effort of all the changes I made to my body and repairs nearly killed me. I was in a coma for several hours and probably would have died if it weren’t for the love of a friend."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "So basically you can take on a platoon sized contingent of Special Forces. Impressive!"

"Why all the interest in what I can and can’t do?" Friday asked. Man was Steve nosey.

"They could have sent anyone to pick me up, but they chose you, their unique ace in the hole, why?" Steve asked.

Figuring he’d be briefed anyway Friday replied, "To train me."

Steve nodded, "That’s what I thought, although how in hell I can train a walking biological weapon I’ve no idea. I guess it’ll be part of the debrief when I get back,"

"Is there a stream nearby? I must look a state?" Friday asked. The blood was beginning to dry on her tattered uniform, and it was starting to smell and attract flies.

"Dunno. I didn’t go too far, it’s much too easy to get lost in here to go wandering off. You could always take it off?" Steve said with a wink.

"I don’t know which would be worse, the stink or you leering at me. I guess I don’t need to worry about my secret being compromised anymore," Friday replied and momentarily closed her eyes, "Done!"

"What is?" Steve asked.

Friday gestured to her shoulder "The bullet wound in my shoulder. I was keeping it open to preserve my secret. Bullet wounds from heavy caliber weapons don’t heal in a matter of hours. So in any medical exam it would be treated as very suspicious. As you now know all there is to tell, there’s no point in not healing it. The done was to say I’ve healed the wound."

"That quick!" The healing had taken fractions of a second.

"As I said I’ve had lots of practice," Friday wanted to change the subject, it was getting too personal again, "So what’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get out of here?"

"Pay a hooker and get laid, then go and get drunk in some bar," Steve stated dryly.

Friday wasn’t sure if he was joking, "If you like."

"Or I could take you out to dinner?" Steve said with a smile.

"We’ll see." Friday stated, "Look I really need to get cleaned up, I’ll take the GPS so I won’t get lost. I’ll be ok."

That you will, Steve thought. "Ok if you see any fish I’d love some. The GPS is in the survival kit."

Friday smiled, "Done," She stood up and brushed herself down and walked to the plastic sealed survival kit. After checking the GPS and noting the coordinates she walked off to find a stream. Within a matter of feet the jungle became impenetrable. She’d forgotten to take a machete with her. Oh well nothing else for it, within a matter of moments her left arm up to her elbow had turned into a long scythe shaped bony blade. Better!

Carefully adjusting the sensitivity of her nose and hearing she picked up the sound of a stream just to her north. After taking a bearing she headed off towards the sound and after a quarter of an hour of hacking thru the thick green foliage she came upon a small stream it was not more than a couple of feet across, but it would do.

She stripped off her wrecked jacket and shirt and plunged them into the stream. The cool water ran red as the blood washed out. She glanced down at her chest, not a scratch. The only sign she’d been mortally wounded was her tattered uniform.

She tried scrubbing it against a nearby rock and that seemed to work better, but by no means was it getting all of it out. She gave up trying to clean it after 10 minutes and wrung it as dry as she could.

However, no matter how she tried to tie the uniform nothing could disguise very well the fact she’d had a large piece of Black Hawk fuselage rammed into her chest. After creating a whole raft of endorphins and pain killers she formed another scalpel sharp blade from her index finger and slashed repeatedly at her chest and stomach. Blood welled up from several cuts and she waited for it to run and cover part of the uniform once more. A few seconds later she stopped the blood flow but left the cuts, with any luck the medic would think the blood on her uniform and its tears were down to the cuts from the crash and not look into it any further.

Was that a helicopter she heard? It sure sounded like it! Picking up the GPS she ran back to the clearing, slashing with her blade arm as quick as she could. When she returned Steve was busy firing flares into the sky, "They’ve seen us!" he called out to her.

Relief flooded over Friday, Soon this damned mission would be over and she could relax in a pool and recuperate, "Nice work!" she exclaimed.

"You ok?" Steve asked has he noticed a fresh set of blood on Friday’s uniform.

"I’m fine. Just a diversion," she replied.

Within 10 minutes they were being medevac’d out. Although neither of them would need serious medical attention the medic insisted that Friday’s cuts were stitched and bandaged and she had a blood transfusion, Friday of course protested none of this, as making a fuss cause them to look some more. It was she decided more trouble to pretend to be injured than getting injured in the first place. She was in the hospital wing, just about to doze off when Steve walked in, "Hi Lieutenant. They tell me you’ll be ready to leave in a day or so."

Friday nodded, "So they say."

"I’ve been ordered to leave within the hour, I guess they want to debrief me ASAP. Since you’ll be here for a while I guess its plan B, hookers and booze," Steve said with a smile.

"If you like," Friday smiled back.

"I’ll catch up with you later Lieutenant," Steve saluted.

"Safe trip," Friday said and lay back down on the bed once more. To be honest the day or two’s rest is what her body needed.

Steve didn’t say anything but gave a cheeky wink and left the ward.

Friday breathed a sigh of relief. The helicopter crash had been a close run thing, but it did highlight one key area. What were her limitations? Just how much injury could she take before being killed. Sure she knew about a headshot being an instant kill, the brain was far too complex to be grown back quickly, and besides, how was the changeling organ to know what to do if the brain wasn’t around to tell it? Maybe that had been part of the ‘test’ she was sure this mission was. For them to see just how she reacted in an extreme situation.

Several unknown’s remained. Why did the North Koreans open fire but chose not to kill or capture them, and who fired a missile from within friendly territory that shot them down. Sure Steve was charming in a boyish kind of way, but dinner was out of the question. She hadn’t bought the subject up, but he’d shown no embarrassment in the way he’d spoken about her before he’d known who she really was. Was that just being polite or was there something more to it? Was Steve scared of her too?

The final mystery was did Heinlein know the mission would go to hell or would he be surprised by the whole thing?

All very valid questions, but there were no answers forthcoming, but something told her they were all related somehow. She would need more information to decide one way or another. In the short term she needed to recover her strength and continue to work out how to regain the initiative from Heinlein..

4. Education
----------------------

Two days later Friday was on a C4 Galaxy transport bound for the US. She’d offered to help escort Richard’s body back to the US, it would give her a sense of closure and it would help Richard’s next of kin grieve. She knew what it was like to lose someone and not have the chance to say goodbye. She had been offered the opportunity to help escort the coffin from the plane into the waiting hearse, and as much as she would have liked to she couldn’t risk being photographed or filmed; at least not in her Friday body and in a US Air Force uniform anyway. So she stayed in the crew area as the coffin was lifted out of the aircraft and escorted with honor to the waiting hearse.

An hour later the media had gone, and she made her way out of the gates of the airbase changed back into civilian clothes, got a taxi to the nearest Hertz rental and drove the rented Ford home.

It was nearly midnight when she finally walked up to the steps to her apartment. In spite of the tiredness she felt her mind was a blur of questions and possibilities. Most of which remained the same from a few days ago. She had more questions than answers, a situation she was unused to.

She stripped off her suit and into a set of fleece PJ’s. New York was a lot cooler than Seoul, less humid too and to be honest she hadn’t really liked the garish, in your face commercialism of that city. Not that she’d seen much of it, the few days she’d spent recovering she’d been limited to the airbase and had had to have regular check ups to ensure she was none the worse for wear. Fortunately those check ups didn’t include an X ray exam of her body. If it had, all hell would have broken loose.

She had considered letting her changeling organ remove her spare internal organs and only use them when she needed them, but as the chopper crash had proved there would be no time to grow a new set in time to need them.

Steve must be back already, she wondered if He’d left a message for her. He was supposed to be her trainer wasn’t he? Besides, she needed a glass of water and she was overdue for her Stelazine. Sighing she swung her legs off of the bed and walked to the kitchen, and walked to the phone. There was a message waiting for her, she pressed play.

"Friday, this is Al from the diner. You haven’t shown up for three shifts so I’m having to let you go. Bring the uniform back and I’ll give you the rest of the weeks pay," That was all she needed! Fired! Not that she blamed him, she’d run off without even calling in sick or arranging anything else. Still, that didn’t help her right now. Although her new ID was legit and fully secure, Heinlein had ensured that Friday’s qualifications meant she could never practice medicine, work as a nurse in a hospital or even in a research lab.

She walked over to the faucet and poured herself a glass of water, and then took a bottle of white pills from the top of the fridge and swallowed two of them down. The Stelazine would help control her genetic propensity towards paranoia and sociopathic behavior. Her use of it was carefully watched and in addition to the mandatory changeling tests(which had to be forged), her blood was tested regularly to ensure the levels in her blood hadn’t dropped dangerously low. The Stelazine molecule was too difficult for her to replicate herself without some serious equipment behind her, all of which were unavailable to her. The genetic flaw in her brain that had been cause of so much pain and anguish was still very much in place, and she didn’t know enough about the effects of trying to use her changeling organ on her brain to risk trying for its removal. Re-growing a heart was child’s play in comparison to healing a brain and still preserving the state of the neurons and paths that made up the core of her being.

Her reliance on a drug to keep her from becoming a serious risk was a great cause of concern both to her and no doubt to Heinlein and yet it was this flaw that had enabled her to perform quantum leaps in the advancement of genetic research and knowledge. Somehow it moved her already high intelligence to a level beyond that of genius. She reflected back on her performance in the mission. She should have been more prepared for it to turn to crap and not relied on what she was told. Was she losing her edge? If her lives and the lives of others depended of her abilities then shouldn’t she ensure those abilities were at the highest possible level? And did the highest possible level include occasionally letting the flaw take over? She checked the tatty white plastic clock on the kitchen wall, 00:12:27. Wearily she walked back to bed, only to hear the couple next door start an argument which was then soon accompanied by the noise of breaking crockery and shouting.

She found herself standing behind a razor wire fence, overlooking a modern city. Modern skyscrapers towered above the skyline and yet on the outskirts of the bustling city centre ancient narrow streets radiated out in all directions. From her vantage point just above the city she could see markets full of people all going about their business, just to one side the pyramids and sphinx could be seen.

"No Stop. It’s a mistake!" she screamed, but no one was listening.

To her left she saw a little boy point to the sky and say "Aeroplanes."

"STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP!!!!" she was screaming louder and louder. Her fingers trying to pull apart the razor wire so she could warn them, but she wasn’t strong enough. It was then she saw them, just small dots on the horizon but growing.

"NO, Don’t do it. Please for the love of God NO!" Blood was pouring from her hands but the razor wire was too strong.

By now she could hear air raid sirens, "No please no. Call it off. It’s a mistake for God’s sake NO!"

The aircraft split out in several directions and she saw the little boy’s finger follow them as they streaked over the city.

It was too late, it was always too late. She sunk to her knees, still grabbing the razor wire in vain, "Not again, please not again, no!"

There were several massive flashes each as bright as the sun and a wave of heat struck her in the face. She looked up, ignoring the heat and light and saw building after building being swatted aside like cardboard. Windows shattered and broke, cars and trunks were flung high into the air and for a few moments it looked as though the majestic and awe inspiring pyramids would remain intact. Then, moments later the top section of the great pyramid started to crack and then another blast wave pushed it aside as a small child does a stack of blocks.

Then from every direction came walls of fire, moving impossibly fast that consumed everything as they went. The little boy and his mother, by now just a pile of ash were swept aside in an unimaginable tide of heat, light and blast pressure. Still physically unaffected by the horrific forces being unleashed on the city she saw thousands up on thousands of people being burned to thick black ash as the firestorms swept over and around her.

She alone was still alive in this city of the dead, and still screaming "Nooo!" fell to her face sobbing and screaming in anguish.

Friday woke up screaming, the dream she just had was as vivid as if she had been there. By now she knew every moment, every gush of wind and every detail. The horror of it imbedded in her heart and mind forever. She was sweating and breathless and decided to walk to the kitchen to get another drink of water. At least she’d hadn’t had the Tel-Aviv one. That was worse. In both cases it was the same. She was screaming and shouting for it to stop, for the slaughter to somehow be prevented, but every time she failed. They always died, all of them, every single one, every single time...

She collapsed onto the bed, and did the only thing she could to sleep. She adjusted her body chemistry to a point where she was almost comatose. It was the only way to get rid of the screams.

Friday woke up, and glanced at the bedside clock, its red LED display showing it was a little past nine am. She gave a yawn, walked the few steps to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. Moments later she was in the shower, the first stage on getting ready to face her first day of unemployment.

Three hours later she was back home, after giving Al his uniform back and collecting the 200 dollars he owed her. After the adrenalin rush of the mission, today was an extreme anti climax. She flicked the TV on, retrieved her last remaining tub of ice cream and sat down to watch brain numbing daytime TV.

At about 3pm her cell phone ringing interrupted Friday’s Jerry Springer watching.

"Hello Friday Carrell speaking?"

"Friday, time for your debrief. We’ve sent a car for you and it should be outside in about 10 minutes," the voice said in a flat toneless way.

"Steve?" Friday queried.

"See you in 30 minutes," the phone went dead.

"Back to work," She said to herself and got up to get changed and pack her Lieutenants uniform back into its holdall.

A blue Ford Taurus was waiting outside of the apartments by the time she had packed and changed into her work outfit. She slung the holdall into the rear seat and got in.

One good thing she could say about secret service drivers is that they didn’t do small talk, so she could relax and not worry about the state of the weather, how well the Mets were doing or any number of inane conversations.

Luckily the traffic was light so the trip took quicker than expected and soon she was being escorted to the same elevator she’d been up a few days before. The door to the conference room clicked open on the swipe of her key card. This time, Steve was sitting next to Heinlein at the far end of the table, and once again the curtains were drawn leaving the room being lit by artificial lights.

"Nice to see you Lieutenant," Steve gave a smile. Now clean shaven and dressed in a suit he looked a vast improvement on the disheveled figure she’d last seen a few days ago.

"Good to be back sir," Friday said formally. She wasn’t sure how this debrief would go, and for some reason she wanted to make a good impression on Steve. Although she didn’t care a fuck what Heinlein thought!

"Friday, take a seat we’ve a lot to go through," Heinlein gestured to a seat next to Steve.

Friday walked over to the seat and after a quick internal debate whether to choose a different seat, sat down at the one Heinlein had shown. Cheap point scoring would be counter productive at the moment.

"I’ll get straight to the point," Heinlein said in a matter of fact tone, "You did a good professional job under difficult circumstances. Well done!"

Friday thought she’d misheard, "Thank you sir."

"Steve was particularly impressed by your presence of mind and resourcefulness not only in dealing with the unfortunate crash but in ensuring that your unique abilities were not compromised," Friday could sense the relief in Heinlein’s voice.

"Thank you sir," No mention that she’d nearly been killed in the crash though.

"It’s going to take us a while to go through the information Steve obtained during his captivity and also look into why exactly you were fired upon and shot down; so don’t expect to hear from us for a while. Steve over to you," Heinlein gestured to Steve to continue.

Steve gave a slight smile, "Lieutenant, or should I say Friday. I’ve had the chance to catch up on a lot of what you’ve been getting up to the past two years, and frankly you scare the hell out of me. Your work on taking down the Guild and the manner in which you stopped a war were highly impressive and no doubt on those feats alone you’ve earned your place here."

"Thanks," Friday felt she could be less formal with Steve, than with the seemingly anal Heinlein.

"Thank you sir!" Steve corrected. Interesting how Steve confirmed the agencies fear of her. Maybe that’s the lever she was looking for.

Maybe not, "Thank you sir," Friday replied.

"However of greater concern is that fact that you don’t yet know the full range of your abilities, your attitude seems to change from compliance to petulant defiance on a whim, and most of all, your records show that you never do anything unless it serves your needs or accomplishes what you want it to. This has to change!" Steve’s manner showed a slight hardening. That Friday wasn’t sure if it was real or acted for Heinlein’s benefit.

"Can I speak openly?" Friday asked.

"Sure," Steve replied and by the look in his eyes Friday could see he knew what was coming next.

Friday took a deep breath, "With all due respect, my motivations are none of the agencies business. Do they question why you get up for work every morning? Do they query every employees? Maybe my reasons are too personal for me to share. As long I as I do my job what does it matter? As to my full capabilities, isn’t that what Steve is here for! To find them out? But, what I do know is that I work best when I know the full facts."

Friday caught Heinlein’s sideways glance to Steve.

"Any normal agent no we wouldn’t bother. But then you’re no ordinary agent are you? We don’t tend to hire mass murderers and a walking weapon of mass destruction," Heinlein started to say.

How dare he! "That’s it! I’m out of here!" Friday stood up, having to blink back tears. Fuck em.

"Lieutenant sit down!" Steve barked the order.

Friday shouted back, "I’m no fucking Lieutenant. You just said what I am. A monster responsible for the deaths of millions, A political liability and an outcast. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a life to lead."

Heinlein’s tried to calm things down, "Friday, Stay! You walk out that door and you’ll have no life. You were granted a conditional pardon. Break that and the gloves are off. Make no mistake, no matter who you turn yourself into we will track you down, and even if it takes a cruise missile strike you will be killed. The nation will more than understand. Is that what you want?"

"What I want is to be treated with some respect and dignity. You wanted to know my motivations. I’m responsible for the deaths of fourteen million people! In the quiet moments in my dreams I still hear the screams of the dying, still see the flesh melting as the nuclear fire incinerates them, still see the images of men, women and children being eaten away by a weapon I created. You can’t understand how that makes me feel. I want justice, for them! To do something that will in some way pay back the evil I’ve done. Make your mind up if that makes me dangerous or not," Friday walked closer to the door, undecided as yet whether to walk out of it or not.

"Friday wait!" Steve called out. The pain and hurt this woman felt ran much deeper that he expected. It was a festering wound across her very soul, a wound that not even her superhuman abilities could heal, "We’re sorry. We had no idea!. Look, we’ve got some good news for you."

"You’ll only use a smart bomb, rather than a cruise missile on me?" Friday said sarcastically.

"Only a small one," Steve smiled, hoping to break the tension.

It sort of worked "So what’s the good news?"

"Three bits of good news," Heinlein stated.

Friday sat down at the chair closest to the door, "Which are?"

"Firstly, because of your actions on the mission you are now officially First Lieutenant Friday Carrell of the US Air Force. Now of course you can’t actually take up a post or take part in active service, but you’ll be on a full First Lieutenant’s wage, in addition to the retainer we will pay you from next month. It also helps any cover we may need to be created for you internally."

An interesting development, "and?"

"We notice that you’ve lost your job. Just this morning we’ve got you new one," Heinlein stated.

"Pizza hut?" Friday sighed.

"Actually no. We’ve added a few more qualifications to Lt Friday Carrell. In addition to your military status you’ve now been awarded a degree in biology from the Phoenix University. Don’t worry, we’re not letting you anywhere near a research lab. You’re going to use it to teach!"

"Teach?" Friday almost laughed out loud.

"Yes teach, biology and life sciences at Edison High in Washington DC. We’ve decided that you need something to keep your considerable mind active, and yet be something that you can leave occasionally while you work for us."

Friday had to laugh, "What would the parents say if they knew their little darlings had me for a teacher?"

"They won’t know will they?" Heinlein added.

"So what’s the third bit of good news? Let me guess I sing in the church choir" Friday was still smiling at the incredulity of it.

"You’re getting married!"

"WHAT!"

"Congratulations to you the bride and," Heinlein gestured to Steve, "The groom."

"Fuck off!" Friday spat. Yet again she was being manipulated.

"Don’t worry dear; it’ll be just for show. We’ll need to work real close over the coming months and weeks and there’s no better cover than a newly wed couple buying their first home together," Steve smiled a conciliatory smile.

"Is the offer of the cruise missile strike still open? Can you lob a smart bomb at me as well, just to make sure?" Friday offered.

"Look. You wanted respect and you’ve got it, you wanted training and you’ve got it, and you wanted a chance to give back and you’ve got that. It’s not as though you have to sleep with him or anything, just share a house as a pretend couple so we can train you properly," Heinlein could still see the anger flick across Friday’s face.

"I’m no teacher! why not a research lab, or even back to being a doctor?. That would be showing me respect."

"You know what every organization, including the Guild’s mistake was in handling you?" Heinlein offered.

Friday said nothing. Feelings of being set up washed over her, better to say nothing.

Heinlein continued, "They thought they had you pinned down. That you really had their best interests at heart. TGen did when it let you develop that genetic modification drug, the Guild did when they thought they knew your real motivations and had a hold over you. In both occasions you double crossed them and they knew nothing about it until you sprung the trap. We will not make that error again. As you will know, by Presidential executive order there will be no research job, no medical work until your time with us is over. You will be given no opportunity to double cross, set up or otherwise fuck with us. You wanted respect, and we give you it!"

"The respect you give me, is that of someone handling a cobra or black mamba. That’s not the respect I’m looking for." Friday said sadly. Why didn’t they trust her?

Heinlein nodded, "Correct, because at the moment you are the Cobra, the black mamba, and the supreme ambush predator wrapped into one beautiful package. As I’ve said to you before, the nation and the free world needs you to go to where others cannot go, to gather information on those who we could not normally do so. The intelligence services of the world failed to stop the attacks on Cairo and Tel-Aviv because it had no information, no intelligence on the Guild’s plans. The last most devastating terrorist acts against civilians have come because we knew nothing about those who were to carry them out. That is why we need you; even a black mamba can save lives if used in the right way and at the right time."

Friday thought on this. What Heinlein said was undoubtedly true. No one had any idea of the full scale of the Guild’s plans, not even she did. Had she done so the loss of life could have been prevented? This then appeared to be the route of her atonement. By obtaining information from places not normally possible she could and would save the lives of many, many innocents. Part of her knew she was being used, but maybe, just maybe this would help her find peace, "So you keep your tame cobra in a cage until you need it?" she said bitterly.

Heinlein gave a wry smile, "Tame is not a word I would use to describe you, but yes we try and make your ‘cage’ as comfortable as we can."

"If your personality profile of me should show anything it’s that I hate being caged. I’m not a weapon that you can aim and then fire. Friday do this, do that, kill that person, deliver this package. I promised to protect life dammit!"

"Believe me, we know that. We know how much you value the Hippocratic oath and your skills as a doctor and surgeon. But that’s the deal. As much as the cruise missile option is appealing for both of us that won’t help save lives, it won’t help stop another Tel-Aviv or Cairo. Friday, the short answer is we need you!"

Heinlein’s argument was winning her over. "Promise me one thing!"

"What’s that?"

"I want to know how and why everything I do will be used to save lives. I will not take a life unless it is to save others!"

"Seems reasonable to me. Deal," Heinlein said solemnly. Inwardly he smiled. The first stage of ‘taming the Cobra’ had been achieved.

"Then I guess you can call off the missile strike. When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. You’ll need to pack and Steve will come and pick you up and take you to your new house, sorry home."

Steve was tempted to make a ‘love nest’ quip, but this whole operation was still on a knife edge.

Anything was better than the hovel she was living in at the moment, and Steve was cute in a boyish kind of way. Maybe it would work out after all. She at least had the reassurances she needed, and could quite understand where Heinlein was coming from. She knew she’d been manipulated into doing what they wanted, but as long as they thought they owned her the better it was for her. For sure she had given her word to serve for fifteen years, her penance for past crimes and she would keep her word. However, she would ensure her time was spent on her terms and not dictated to her by a bastard like Heinlein. "Am I dismissed?" she asked.

Heinlein nodded, "Yes, Steve will pick you up at 10am."

"Heinlein can I state something for the record?" Friday asked.

"What’s that?"

"You’re a bastard!" With that Friday stood up and took the bus home. She had some packing to do

5. Removal
----------------

It took Friday all of 30 minutes to pack her meager belongings, everything else was rented. She would arrange for them to be picked up later in the week. The journey back had allowed her to collate her feelings into at least some kind of order. The ‘marriage’ thing was a bit of a shock, but she’d treat it as any other kind of undercover assignment. Another part of her wanted to run and take her chances, she didn’t believe for a moment that Heinlein would be able to track her down, but did she really want to live a life on the run?

The other thing preying on her mind was how in hell was she supposed to teach a load of kids? Sure she knew the science, but teaching is a whole lot more than knowing and telling. Those kids would come to either hate her, have the hots for her or even think her as another mom. It was then she realized that this was probably another test and that she would be required to pass it in order to carry on. It was classic behavioral modification. Go thru the maze the right way and get a bit of cheese, go the wrong way and get an electric shock. Eventually the subject would conform and behave. What really riled was that she was the subject trapped in the maze.

She had debated pulling a few strings with the President, after all he did still owe her big time and persuade him to let her try some other arrangement, but that would be admitting defeat and letting Heinlein win, or would it? It would show that she still had the spirit to fight back, regain her freedom and get her life back. She still had access to the private hotline to the President that had been used to help defuse the recent crisis, so she would use that to make sure she spoke to him directly. Still, for the moment she promised she'd only use it in dire emergency.

She put her two small bags of belongings onto the bed, took out her purse and walked outside. She would eat out, firstly because everything was packed and cleaned and secondly she deserved it!

She walked to the ATM and took out 100 dollars, leaving her with exactly 25 dollars in her bank account. Next month, the retainer fee, her First Lieutenants salary would kick in and the month after that her teaching money so she would soon have more than enough to live on. Until then she was broke.

She’d barely walked 50 yards when a male voice hissed in her ear, "Fancy sharing the wealth honey," she felt the prick of a knife blade in the small of her back.

"Please don’t make me do this?" Friday said, trying to put fear into the mugger.

It nearly worked, there was a pause for a few moments and the knife moved away, but within moments she felt it pressed against her throat, "Money, NOW!" the voice hissed.

Friday concentrated and the skin under the knife blade hardened and was replaced with a gray, bony armor, "Ok it’s in my purse, I’ll get it out," Friday showing her right hand was empty slowly moved it across to her purse slung over her left shoulder. Carefully she opened the bag and dipped her hand inside. Out of sight of the mugger, the fingers on her hand merged together and were replaced with thick serrated bone, "Here it is," she said softly.

The mugger had no chance at all, there was a loud CRACK of bone as his intended victim grabbed his arm and twisted it at 90 degrees. Instinctively he pressed the knife into her throat and expected her to crumple, but the knife just glanced off. Another fraction of a second it all went black.

Friday pulled the bloodied blade that was her right hand out of the muggers throat and for the first time saw the face of her attacker. He was nothing more than a kid, barely fourteen years old. Blood was gushing from the open wound in his throat and his juvenile eyes were staring at her in horror and in shock. What had she done?

Within moments her blade had become a hand once more and she knelt down beside the dying boy and held his hand as she watched his life seep away onto the pavement It was all she could do to stop the tears from coming there and then, and she fled back to her apartment and sobbed herself to sleep. That night the Cairo dream was more vivid than ever, and she was sure that there was a new face in the fire. That of a fourteen year old boy who’d only wanted some extra money to pay off his dads gambling dept.

-- oo --

A loud hammering at the door woke Friday up, "Hey you in there time to go," The voice belonged to Steve! She must have slept in!

She got off the bed, and was about to open the door when she noticed dried blood on her right hand and sleeve. Fuck, what had she done! "Umm wait a sec Steve I’m not decent!" She called out.

She dashed to the sink and ran some hot water, "I feel like Lady McBeth," she said softly to herself as she washed the blood from her hand and sleeve. It still showed some of the stain, an apt metaphor for what had happened the night before. Why hadn’t she just laid him out unconscious? It was easily achievable and he really was no threat at all. Fresh tears formed, she wasn’t better at all, once a murderer always a murderer.

Maybe Heinlein was right, she was the ultimate predator, with an evil heart that could never change, someone who needed to be caged and constrained for the safety of others. Yes she thought, two years of sanity and still the old evil remained, this time lurking under the pretence of good causes.

"Friday, come on, hurry up you’ve had all night to pack!" Steve was starting to sound annoyed.

Fuck him, thought Friday he can wait. Maybe that’s what she needed to do was wait. What was it Steve had said, "However of greater concern is that fact that you don’t yet know the full range of your abilities, " Yes, that was why he was afraid of her, untrained she was like five year old with a live hand grenade. If she had any doubts about going with Steve they vanished. She was, she decided, too dangerous to be let loose; the Cobra needed a cage, at least for the moment but on her terms.

6. The Bride and Groom.
--------------------------------

"You took your time," Steve commented as Friday let him in. Steve was pulling a large black plastic suitcase.

"Who’s that?" Friday asked, noticing a suited man with an SLR Camera.

"Our official wedding photographer," Steve lifted the suitcase and placed it on the sofa, "Here go and get changed, we’ll set things up."

Friday sighed, it was obvious what they wanted to do. A newlywed couple with no wedding photos on the fireplace would seem very odd to the no doubt nosey neighbors. She unzipped the suitcase and pulled out a wedding dress, underneath the wedding dress was what seemed to be a plain green bed sheet. Memories of the past came flooding back, bringing with it old hurts and old pain, "I’m sure, sure.." she started and then lost her train of thought. What the hell was wrong with her? It was after all only to maintain a cover, a sham.

Steve looked at her sympathetically, "I understand. But we need to be professional about this and not let our personal feelings get in the way. We’ve not got long so be quick. I’m sure it’ll fit," he gave Friday a knowing wink. Anything would fit.

"I’ll need an hour or so. I’ll need to put on some makeup and do my hair properly."

"Don’t worry about makeup. We’ll photoshop some in," Steve commented.

"Fine," Friday picked up the wedding dress, walked inside her bedroom and made damn sure the door was shut properly.

Whoever had bought the dress knew her tastes precisely, although it wasn’t quite the best fit possible. It was a little large in the bust and small in the waist, so she adjusted her body to ensure a perfect fit. She smiled to herself, in one fell swoop she’d just turned the fashion industry upside down. No longer would she get clothes to fit, she would fit the clothes!

She did the zip up at the back and tidied her hair up the best she could. She turned and looked into the full length mirror on the door. A tall athletic redhead with blue eyes looked back at her. For sure this body wasn’t in the same league as the one she was born with, and her ultra model ‘Rachel Martin’ body wasn’t even in the same universe. Neither of these was available to her anymore. Her original body was now supposed to be dead, and Cathline was now ‘Rachel Martin’. But, for her life at the moment, this body was perfect. Not imposingly beautiful and much better than attractive, but what it did have was that it was tuned and toned to be what she needed it to be.

"You done in there yet?" Steve’s voice called out from the living room.

Putting her veil over her face she opened the door and went into the living room. Steve had changed into a white Tux and black suit while a large green sheet covered the far wall. She noticed with some satisfaction that Steve’s eyes were wide and drawing in her every curve. "You look Stunning," he commented to Friday’s satisfaction.

"What’s the green sheet for?" Friday asked, noting that the photographer had set up a tripod and his camera on the far side of the room.

"We’ll stand in front of it, in various ‘I love you’ poses and then backgrounds and ‘family’ will be digitally added later. That reminds me," Steve walked over to the case and pulled out a bouquet of flowers, "Catch!" He said and threw them about three feet to Friday’s Left.

Instinctively Friday moved over and caught the flowers in her right hand, "Thanks," she looked at Steve whose face showed he was shocked by the speed by which she had moved. People often were.

"You weren’t kidding when you said you were fast! It was almost like one moment you were there and the next you had caught the flowers," Steve exclaimed.

"Let’s go on with it shall we?" Friday commented. Turning to the photographer she asked, "Right where do you want me?"

The photographer took several photos of her and Steve, her on her own and Steve by himself. She had, however drawn the line at Steve’s suggestion of French kissing in the ‘kiss the bride’ photo. Steve had reluctantly agreed to a more modest peck on her cheek.

While the photographer packed his things away, Friday walked back into her bedroom and took off the dress. One day, she vowed, she’d do it for real, and to someone she loved and who loved her for who she was, not for what she had done.

She put on the jeans and T-shirt she’d put out for the trip and neatly folded the wedding dress up, "You all packed and changed?" she called out from the room.

"Sure, come on out," Steve called.

Friday walked back into the room and noticed the sheets had been folded away, "Where’s the photographer?"

"Gone to create our wedding photos. Talking about that, you need to sign this," Steve reached into his top pocket and pulled out a document. He then handed it to Friday.

"Our marriage license? Wait a minute!" Friday protested. No way was she getting legally married.

"It’s ok. Without an oral testimony it’s not legally binding. We just need it so that should anyone want to see it we have it to hand. This has to be tight, otherwise our whole cover is at risk," Steve explained.

"Fine," Friday complained and took a pen from the kitchen table, "Oh and one last thing I don’t want to be a Mrs. I’ll keep my maiden name if it’s all the same to you."

"Ok, so we’re a liberated couple then!" Steve teased.

Friday put the marriage license on the table and signed as ‘Ms Friday Carrell’, "There all done!" She handed the license back to Steve.

Steve gave a smile, "Thanks honey,"

"One final thing! I’m not your honey, darling, dear, sweetie, or even babe. My name is Friday," Friday snapped. She hated being patronized and Steve’s expression showed that maybe he was a little too pleased about the arrangement.

"Ok. Got everything packed? Our flight is in 2 hours?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, it’s in those two bags there," Friday pointed to two small bags just near the door. Ironic how once her life filled an entire mansion, and had now been reduced to just two small bags in a rented room.

"Good. Heinlein’s arranged for all of our stuff to be delivered to the house, so I’m travelling light too."

Travelling light? This was all she had! "Let’s go. The sooner this starts the sooner I get an annulment!"

7. Home sweet home.
----------------------------

The removal van still hadn’t arrived when they arrived at their new home. It must be a new build as the white wooden fascia was gleaming and the lawns had been freshly cut. It wasn’t excessively large, but a nice suburban house, typical of millions like it right across the country. Steve drove the car into the drive and parked outside a large double garage. Friday noticed several curtains twitch as they got out of the car. They were obviously under observation by the neighbors.

"Doesn’t look too bad," Steve commented as he got out of the car.

"Better than my old apartment any day," Friday said still feeling as though she was being watched. Suddenly she felt Steve grab her hand.

"Act natural! This is our first home together remember!" Steve whispered.

Friday gave him a stunning smile and they walked up the path hand in hand. When they were at the door, Steve released Friday’s hand and rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. The door opened first time. Friday was about to walk in when again Steve grabbed her hand, "Let me carry you over the threshold," he smiled.

He can try, Friday thought, "Sure why not!" she commented.

She felt Steve’s arms go under her legs and a grunt as he tried to lift her. She decided to be magnanimous and give him some help. She leant back into his waiting arms and he just about managed to carry her into the hallway.

"Woah!" he said breathlessly.

"Nice hallway," Friday commented at the mock oak wooden floor and magnolia walls. Being a new build no doubt it was decorated in this bland fashion all the way through.

"It’s got three bedrooms, two with adjoining bathrooms. And just wait till you see what’s in the garden," Steve smiled.

Compared to her apartment the living room was cavernous in comparison to her old apartment at around 30 by 28 feet, again styled in the same wooden floor as the hallway, "I’ll take the largest bedroom," Friday stated.

Steve nodded, "Sure. But make sure you store some clothes in my room. We need to at least need to make it appear as though we’re sharing."

Friday immediately felt at home when she walked into her bedroom. There was easily enough space for a king sized bed, and the adjoining private bathroom was complete with stall shower and luxury of luxuries, a bath tub!

Steve’s head appeared round the door of her bedroom, "Come and see what’s outside!"

Friday whirled round and snapped, "Don’t EVER put one inch of your body into my room without asking me first!"

"Hey calm down," Steve tried to placate her.

Boundaries clearly set, Friday decided to cut Steve some slack, "So what did you nearly make me kill you for?"

"Look," Steve walked Friday into a large conservatory at the back of the house. Outside in the freshly cut lawn was a large swimming pool. Friday’s heart leapt and she whirled round and gave Steve a hug, "Thank you. How did you know?"

Friday could sense Steve’s surprise but it didn’t matter. In her old life she’d used her pool to tone herself to the physical peak of her ability. It was the one thing she’d missed the most. Obviously the fact she’d used a pool was in her records, but it would have taken a lot of string pulling to get one for her to use. Maybe Steve wasn’t so bad after all.

The moment was interrupted by the doorbell frantically ringing, "I’ll get it," Steve offered. A few moments later Friday joined him and saw the removal van outside, at last! "Since we’ve paid these people to move in for us, why don’t we go out and eat. We can then move furniture later," Steve suggested.

That sounded a great idea to Friday, "Good idea. I’ll drive," and she held out her hands for the car keys.

--- oo ---

They managed to find a cheap diner on the interstate and were shown to the table by a waitress who could have been no more than seventeen. At least she wasn’t working in one of these places anymore, Friday thought. Looking back on it, it had given her an appreciation for real life that she’d never really had. Bought up with a silver spoon in her mouth, and then graduated into a doctor's position at the hospital her dad owned and then inheriting several million dollars when he sold the hospital she moved to heading up the TGen genetic research program.

"You ok?" Steve asked.

"Sure! Why?" She replied.

"You just looked distant that’s all."

"Just thinking about when I used to work in a place like this," Friday commented.

Friday spotted Steve glancing her up and down, "You know my arms still ache from trying to lift you! You must weigh at least 200 lbs."

"Now you know not to ask a lady how much she weighs," Friday said evasively.

"Oh come on Friday, I’m supposed to know everything about you. How come you look as though you should weigh 100lbs but you must weigh nearer double that!"

"Are you going to ask me personal questions every time you spot something different about me?" Friday asked, irritated by the questions.

Steve nodded, "Yup."

"Fine!" Friday resigned herself to having to answer Steve’s questions.

"So are you going to tell me?" Steve queried.

"Yeah ok. My real weight is probably around the 250lbs mark. It’s all down to bone density and body mass. When I change anything, it burns calories and so my body uses the extra mass as fuel for the changeling organ. So it converts my extra body mass into the calories it needs to fuel the changes. Also if I were to want to be taller or heavier how would I do that? I can’t generate mass on the fly, only burn it off and hope to add it later. It also gives me an edge in combat because of the additional power the mass brings to any punch or thrust, and also serves to help me absorb bullet rounds without being knocked over."

Friday caught Steve’s impressed look, "Next time don’t try to lift me!" she quipped.

Steve smiled, "You did that on purpose!"

Friday smiled back, "You bet!"

"You really are a most remarkable woman," Steve said quietly.

Friday had to smile, was he trying to hit on her? She would play along and try and expand the weakness she’d identified earlier. Steve would be her key to regaining the initiative back from Heinlein. "Thanks, tell me. What was it like being a prisoner of the Guild for so long?"

"I’d rather not talk about it. I’ve read what Cathline, sorry, Rachel Martin went thru and believe me it’s not something you’d want to happen to your worst enemy," Steve glanced downwards towards his rib eye steak; neatly avoiding eye contact.

But I did want it for my worst enemy! Friday thought. She had deliberately ensured that Cathline would be tortured and raped by the Guild. Cathline had endured that for four months, and then again as Rachel Martin she had had her eye burned out with a white hot iron. No matter where she went her past followed her like chains dragging her down into the depths of the ocean. She was free of the past and yet more bound up than ever!

"I’m sorry, I didn’t think!" Steve apologized. What he had said had obviously just sunk in.

Friday waved it away, "It doesn’t matter. Or at least it shouldn’t matter."

"and yet it does?" Steve answered for her.

Friday just nodded.

"You start school on Monday, so you’ve got tomorrow to rest up. Don’t worry about anything, it’s been cleared with the principal, "Friday was grateful that Steve hadn’t pushed a conversation about her past any further.

"School politics is the least of my worries. It’s the kids that bother me. How in hell am I supposed to pass as a qualified teacher?"

"You’ve explained things to people before, as part as your job as a doctor and at TGen?" Steve asked.

Friday knew what Steve was up to, trying to give her a sense of self worth," Yeah but they wanted to learn. It’s easy to teach people who want to learn."

"I’m sure you’ll find a way to reach those who don’t!" Steve smiled.

Steve’s tone was getting annoying, "Look darling husband! Stop trying to placate me. You have no idea who I really am! You’ve read my file I’m not some dumb ass bimbo."

"And you’ve no idea who I am either! And yes I’ve read your file, learned it off by heart. Let me see, you’ve an IQ in excess of 160, fluent in five languages and apart from your medical doctorate, you have two further degrees in biology and genetics. You are, or were prone to sociopathic behavior with aspects of schizophrenia or MPD and your exploits earned you the rare honor of being classified by Interpol as a ‘Lethal’ criminal. You used to have a net worth of around 400 million dollars left to you by the death of your parents, of which you spent a substantial sum in your hissy fit you had when Matthew Stephens left you at the altar; which by the way was the trigger for the shit we find ourselves in today! Missed anything out?

"No," Friday felt a tear run down her face, "Excuse me I need to go to the bathroom." She stood and fled to the bathroom in tears.

How could Steve be so callous? She had started to warm to him and yet he pushes her away like this? Then a thought struck her. Maybe he felt he was getting too close to her, too personal and not professional enough. His reaction was to drive them apart again as trainer and student rather than as equals. Then she had another thought. Maybe he WAS getting to close in another more disturbing way. Could he be falling for her and this was his reaction to that. Whatever the answer was she would wait and watch.

A few minutes later, after ensuring her eyes were no longer puffy she walked back to the table. She saw Steve glance away from her and he didn’t even acknowledge her when she sat down to eat the remains of her meal.

"You owe me an apology," Friday stated.

"Probably. Some first day of our honeymoon huh?" Steve went back to eating his steak.

"Look, where do I stand with you? One minute your being best buds, the next pushing me away. Is this part of your training technique?" Friday asked.

"Part of it yes. Look, we need to get back I expect to be moving furniture all night to where we want it."

Deciding to drop the subject for the moment, Friday just nodded and consumed the rest of her meal.

--- oo ---

Steve was right, even with both of them flat out it took two hours to arrange the house how they liked it, or at least reach a compromise, although there were still a few personal things to unpack. The last thing to be put up on the fireplace was a wedding photo of Friday and Steve kissing behind an old New England style church. Whoever had done the photo editing had done a wonderful job and even to the careful viewer it looked genuine. "I’m bushed; I’ll see you in the morning." Steve confessed.

"Night Steve," Friday answered. Apart from the argument, which she still had no idea what it was really about, it had been a reasonable day. She debated whether to stay up and watch TV or to retire to bed. In the end it was the TV that won, and soon she was channel surfing for anything other than ‘worlds’ worst’ programs.

In the end she settled down to watch Cartoon channel and especially road runner.

"Wake up sleepy head!" Friday felt a hand slowly shake her shoulder, "Steve?"

"You fell asleep on the sofa," Steve commented.

"Sorry. I had just had a revelation, but by the time the revelation came I was too sleepy to do anything about it."

Steve gestured across to the TV, still showing cartoons, "You had a revelation while watching loony tunes?"

Friday shook her head, "I needed to get my brain to think, to give it some exercise so I gave it a problem. But I was too tired to make it a sensible one."

"So what was it? The problem that is," Friday noticed how Steve’s eyes were taking her in again. This time she didn’t mind so much.

"How Wile E Coyote can finally catch the roadrunner," Friday said, a little embarrassed.

Steve gave a loud laugh, it was a boyish and yet masculine laugh, to Friday it seemed full of good humor and sensitivity, "Ok enlighten me. How can the Coyote catch the road runner?"

Friday couldn’t help but smile, "It occurred to me that the Coyote’s plans are basically sound and that in theory they should work."

Steve gave a chuckle, "And?"

"To catch the roadrunner, the coyote should stop buying stuff from ACME. I mean how can ACME even stay in business if everything they make doesn’t work? They have a real quality control issue. Therefore the failure of the Coyote to catch the roadrunner isn’t one of planning or resources; it’s assuming the hardware works as advertised," Friday’s tone of voice was analytical as though explaining a math’s problem.

Steve gave another loud laugh, equally as attractive as before, "I’m sure there’s a lesson in there somewhere. Come on wifey let’s have breakfast.!"

Friday shot Steve an annoyed glance for the ‘wifey’ comment. But it was only in jest. For his part Steve ignored the look and proceeded into the kitchen.

There was still some sorting out to do, and it wasn’t until mid afternoon when they were all done. They were about to sit down and get a beer from the cooler when the doorbell rang "I’ll get it," Friday offered.

She walked the door and peered thru the spyhole. It was a woman, probably in her late 60’s she was dressed in jeans and a green blouse. Looks harmless enough Friday thought and opened the door.

"Hello, my names Marge, I’m from over the road," the lady’s voice sounded as though she was actually pleased to see them.

Friday glanced down and saw that the woman was holding a large casserole dish. Friday gave the lady a stunning smile, "My name’s Friday, please come in."

Marge gave another smile and walked inside the house, "I see you’ve got unpacked already. It took me and my husband hours to unpack, what with his bad back and all."

"Steve?" Friday called out. This was it, the first test of their cover!

Steve walked in, and on seeing Marge gave another welcoming smile, "My name’s Steve and I think you’ve already met my wife, Friday."

"Ooh, been married long?" Marge asked. From the look on her face it was one of her favorite subjects.

"Only a week," Friday said and faked a loving doe eyed look in Steve’s direction.

"Ahh that’s soo sweeett," Marge cooed, "I almost forgot. I’ve made you a hotpot , it was my mother’s recipe. Did I tell you about my mother, wonderful cook? She died ten years ago. Tragic really, my poor dad, God rest his soul, was so sad.."

Friday wondered if she’d be allowed to punch a blade arm though this woman’s throat. It’d be worth it just to shut her up, "I’m sorry Marge we’re still really busy. Thank you SO much for the hotpot I’m sure it’ll be wonderful."

"I understand, make sure you don’t overheat it, you’ll ruin the flavor, and still, a woman like you should be able to manage it. That’s the trouble with so many people these days; they rely on microwaves to do their cooking. I’m sure you’ll look after him just fine," Marge nodded towards Steve, "Such a handsome man, just like my husband when we first married."

"Marge, it’s been a pleasure," Friday said and gently started to steer her out of the door.

"It’s really nice to meet you, please call round at any time," Marge offered and walked out of the doorway.

"We will, thank you so much for the hotpot," Friday said and politely but firmly closed the door behind her.

"Didn’t she EVER shut up?" Friday said relieved that Marge had gone.

Steve gave another short laugh, "Your face was a picture."

"Shut up! I’m going for a swim you can reheat her hotpot and let me know when it’s done,"

Ten minutes later Friday had changed into her single piece Speedo swimsuit and was swimming lengths flat out. It helped to be doing something physical for a change. The last time she’d been able to do this was before she’d implanted the changeling organ in herself. This time she felt as though she could go on forever. It was a little of an anticlimax. It was only when, on the verge of exhaustion she could really lose herself and obtain release from the pressure of life. At this rate it would be several hours before she reached that point. Then she had an idea. Concentrating she adjusted her respiratory system and felt small flaps of skin grow on her neck. She then dived to the bottom of the pool and lay face down in the water, breathing through the gills she’d just grown in her neck. Better. The reduction in Oxygen intake was enough for her to feel the same feeling as before.

Suddenly she was aware of a splash and arms gripping her waist and she was hauled out of the water. Steve had a panicked look on his face, "Friday? You ok?"

"Don’t EVER do that again," Friday was furious!

"I thought you’d drowned!" Steve exclaimed.

"Look on my neck Fuckwit! And put me back in!" Friday couldn’t shout that loud as her she was still a little short on Oxygen out of water.

"Are, Are they gills?" Steve exclaimed.

Friday twisted away from Steve’s grip and seconds later was soon face down in the water once more. This time Steve knew better than to interrupt her.

Steve had gone out by the time she’d got out of the pool and replaced her gills with lungs once more. Her hours in the pool had clarified her thoughts immensely, and now she was ready to face her first day as Edison High’s newest teacher. She had no idea when or where her next mission would come from, but for the moment she would direct her energies into her day job, training herself to perfection and wiping the smug grin off Heinlein’s face.

It was late by the time Steve came into the house, "Honey I’m home," he called out cheerily.

Friday shot him an annoyed glance, "Not that’s it’s any of my business, but you’ve been out for hours."

The fact that Friday has missed him, gave Steve some satisfaction, "I’ve just had a meeting with Heinlein to discuss your training program, and also stop off to have my monthly screening."

"Ah yes, mines due in a couple of weeks! Of course I have to have my results adjusted, otherwise all hell would break loose. So what did the all knowing Heinlein have to say?" Friday said sarcastically.

"He’s not all bad. I think you should cut him some slack. You want to know your training program?," Steve rubbed his arm where the needle had gone in, "Tell me, does it always hurt this much?"

Friday shrugged, "The Anti changeling screening program? Dunno, I can numb my nerves around the area to reduce the pain. Like I said my results have to be faked each month, but it’s a wise precaution. I’m told the higher up in the government and agencies you go the more regular you need to be screened. I suspect they’ll drop the program as soon as the paranoia dies down. I know the Russians and French have stopped and God knows what the Chinese are doing. So, what have I let myself in for?"

"That’s the difficult bit. For example, how would you escape from a pursuing force, with dogs and thermal imaging? You have a 40 second lead."

Friday thought for a few seconds, "What kind of terrain?"

"Arctic Tundra. Not much vegetation, and cover, with few remains of snow and ice."

A plan formed in Friday’s mind. "Ok, first of all I would have improved my leg muscles to enable me to run faster and so pull out a gap on them. I’d have stripped off naked and subtly changed my body scent. Clothes restrict what I can and can’t do, so in an emergency I’m better off without them. I’d then find a depression or snowdrift and lay down in it. At the same time I’d alter my skin coloration to match those of my surroundings, lower my blood pressure and allow the temperature in my body to drop to that of the air around me. Now the dogs can’t smell me and the pursuing team can’t spot me, either visually or by infra red. Once they’d gone past I could do whatever I liked."

"See!" Steve exclaimed," Our normal agents can’t do that and so we’ve had to throw pretty much all of our standard training out of the window. But first we need to see how good you really are, by the time you get from work tomorrow we’ll have all the equipment we’ll need."

Friday could now see why her training had taken so long to work out. They had to think of new ways to work and to counter what she could devise, "So you're going to turn our living room into a dojo? I hope you’ll do the tidying up?" Memories of her exercise with the bags of sand and the resultant amount of mess they caused came to mind.

"We’ll both share the chores. In any case that’s tomorrow’s fun. You gave me quite a scare in the pool earlier. I had no idea!" Steve admitted.

Friday decided not to rub in it, "I didn’t know you cared," deciding to change the subject Friday asked, "I take it everything is all arranged for my new job tomorrow. I’ve got no lesson plans ready or even know where and who I’m supposed to see and go?"

"Hold on I’ll go and get it, Heinlein has arranged everything and the outgoing teacher has supplied you with a weeks worth of lesson plans. That should be enough to be going on with," Steve walked out of the room and came back in a few seconds later with a black briefcase, "It’s all in here. I’m sure you can pick it up quickly. As for me I’m off to bed," Steve tossed the briefcase in Friday’s direction and she deftly caught it and put it on her lap.

"Night Steve," She said opening the briefcase and peering in at the contents.

"Night Friday," Steve said and walked out.

Friday picked up a copy of the previous teachers notes and started to flick thru them. Within a matter of pages she was shaking her head in frustration, "Wrong," She tossed a page over her shoulder, Wrong," another page, "Still wrong!" Another page was thrown to the floor. Friday sighed. She’d have to completely redo the entire section on genetics before the morning.

--- oo ---

Steve was still asleep when Friday got into the car and drove to work, she’d chosen a simple but smart light blue trouser suit, nothing too flash and nothing too scruffy, a nice middle of the road outfit. A short 20 minute journey along the interstate and she pulled into the school parking lot. The school was just how she imagined it would be. A rectangular characterless block shaped building with steps leading up to a large set of double doors at the main entrance. Standing at the front of the school was an older man who Friday recognized from the photo as the principal. The principal spotted her walking toward him and waited for her to come to him.

The principal was dressed in the same suit as the photo, a gray double breasted affair with a white shirt and drab brown tie, "Hello, my name is John Collier, I’m the principal here. You must be Mrs. Friday Grayson," he offered Friday his hand.

Friday shook his hand, "Ms Friday Carrell, I’ve kept my maiden name. It’s good to be here," it did feel strange being called a ‘Mrs.’ but firstly, it wasn’t for long and secondly it wasn’t for real.

"Please Ms Carrell, come inside your first class isn’t until 09:30 so we’ve plenty of time for a chat."

"Friday, please," Friday glanced around and noted that several kids were staring at her. Obviously she was somewhat of a curiosity today.

"It’ll be ok. Your just today’s new attraction, "The principal said, spotting Friday’s sideways glances at the onlookers, "Shall we go in?"

"Please, lead on," Friday replied. It did feel odd being the centre of attention here, but as the principal said, she’d soon be old news.

Friday was escorted down wooden floored corridors, with off white painted walls interspersed with notice boards, lockers and the odd trophy cabinet. She noted with some satisfaction the ogling she was being given by a bunch of football jocks. Soon news of the new ‘hot’ science teacher would be around the school and the inevitable politics and showmanship that would entail from the kids.

"In here," the principal offered and pointed to a frosted glass, brown wooden door with ‘Principal Collier," stenciled in gold paint across the glass.

Principal Collier’s office was quite frankly a mess. Books and folders were everywhere and had even been balanced on top of the computer monitor, "Don’t mind the mess we’re having a clear out. Please Ms Carrell, take a seat."

If I can find it! Friday thought, but she said nothing as she sat down on a worn black leather chair opposite the principal’s desk.

Sitting down opposite her, Principal Collier moved a pile of folders to one side and said "I’ve been fully briefed of the arrangement. We are the only two that know that you work for the government on a retainer basis. I have also been told that you may need time off occasionally but that you are an exceptional teacher. I’m a patriot Ms Carrell. I will do anything for my country, but I also have my student's best interests at heart. I trust that your occasional absences will not affect either my student's education or the reputation of the school."

Friday immediately saw thru his worries, "I’m pleased to be here Principal Collier. You have my word I will do my very best for the students in this school. The country needs patriots like you. These are delicate times and you can be rest assured that you will not regret allowing me to work in your school. I hope I can be as big an asset to you as I am the government."

The words had just the calculated effect on Principal Collier, "I’m glad to hear that Ms Carrell. My brief didn’t include in what capacity you work for the government. I was told it would not put the lives of the students of staff here at risk!"

"I’m not at liberty to say what it is I do, sorry. Only that I’m required to go on the occasional errand at short notice. But no, your students and teachers are not at risk," brave words thought Friday. It was conceivable that any enemies she might make in her job might follow her back here, but the risk was small. Schools were much too public, besides let them try!

"That's a great relief to hear you say that Ms Carrell. Would you like to meet your class?"

"Sure," The nervousness she'd felt a few days before came back.

Principal Collier led her across a walkway and into the science block. He came to another door, similar to his own and opened it. "Your class will be here in a few minutes. I expect you'll need some time to setup. I've left the class register in your desk drawer so you'll be able to match names to faces. Good luck."

Friday walked into the classroom and the butterflies became stronger. She calmed herself by reminding herself that she'd prepared for this last night, she had an admittedly unconventional lesson plan ready and that she'd faced far worse threats than a room full of teenage kids. She pulled the register out and memorized all the kids' names and faces; at least it would make it easier if she could remember their names!

A few minutes later she heard the noise and chatter of a group of kids walking towards the door. Knowing that she needed to induce respect from the first second of day one she stood up, behind her desk and waited for them to come in.

She was just in time as moments later her first class walked in. A few were so engrossed in conversation that they didn't notice her standing there. A few of the boys gave her the once over and sat at the back, obviously the class clowns.

A group of girls, still chatting sat down to her left, gave her a quick glance before whispering and giggling. No doubt cheerleaders commenting on her fashion sense. Inwardly she gave a smile, how difficult could this be, just a few weeks ago she had faced down the leaders of Israel and of the Arab world to convince them to sue for peace rather than all out war. "Good Morning class! My name is Ms Friday Carrell," the tone of her voice was pitch perfect. It was intended to put across the desire for discipline and yet friendliness. The class immediately quieted down.

"For those that have been away from the gossip line I'm your new Science teacher."

Groans from a few kids at the back. Obviously science wasn't their favorite subject.

"Now you're here for one of three reasons. The first is because you want to learn, the second because you have to," A few smiles, "and lastly because you've heard about the hot new science teacher and want to check me out!" A laugh or two, better!

"I'm going to make a contract with you all, and it's quite simple. If you want to learn I promise to do everything I can to help you. If you're here to make trouble, then I promise I'm more trouble than you know and lastly if you're here to check me out, then I'm afraid I'm married!" Friday knew that she'd just thrown down the gauntlet to the troublemakers, but that was fine it was now out in the open. Better this way than covert sneakiness.

"Let's start by taking the register," Friday pulled out the register sitting on her desk and started to read out the names.

One of the kids at the back put his hand up to, 'Richard Eastwood' Friday smiled inwardly, it was a old joke, "Adrian Follett, unless you've changed your name to Richard Eastwood I suggest you wait until your name is called."

Adrian gave her a glare and Friday was glad she'd memorized the class list.

The register duly taken she put it away in her drawer, "Now we've got the formalities out of the way, let's start. Your previous teacher, Mrs Tern was leading you thru 'The science of biology' was she not? Right I want you to open your books at page 247" There was a sigh and the sound of bags being opened.

Now for the unconventional bit. Friday walked behind her desk and lifted the trash can from the floor and placed it on her desk. The entire class was staring at her, good she had their attention. "Right have all of you found page 247?"

She waited until everyone had, "Ok Page 247 should read 'The Science of genetics;" Friday paused she was going to enjoy this, "Now I want you rip out pages 247 to 310 and place them in this trash can!"

There was a mixture of laughter and confusion. A bespectacled boy to her right looked horrified, "Yes you did hear me right. Rip out pages 247 to 310 and put them in the trash can!"

As Friday predicted Adrian Follett and the gang at the back were the first to rip pages from their books, screw them up, walk to the trash can and throw them in. The rest of the class was still sitting down. They needed some assurances that they were doing the right thing, "I know this is a little strange. But it's my job to help you to learn and I promised to do everything I can to do that! The pages I've told you to rip out are crap. If it helps let me show you," Friday pulled a crumpled page from the trash can, "See Page 247!"

Friday was enjoying this little bit of anarchy, "Genetics is NOT a science it's an art. 80% of it is science, the rest is intuition, creativity and imagination. You've been taught that chromosomes, proteins, DNA and RNA are the building blocks of life. That's true. But this book says that these blocks can only be assembled in certain ways and in certain sequences! Crap!" Friday paused for effect. She now had the entire class's attention, even the clowns at the back.

"It's like an architect telling you that you can only build square buildings! Just because he only knows how to build square buildings doesn't mean to say that you can't. I've read the entire chapter and I'm afraid to tell you the author of this book only knows how to build square buildings, I want to show you how to build any kind of building you like!. So rip it out pages 247-310 and throw it in the trash. Here! I'll do it to my copy," Friday retrieved her copy of the book and much to the class's amusement ripped out the offending pages and threw them into the trash.

More laughter. One of the cheerleader girls, a blonde with a pink halter top stood up and threw the pages she'd just ripped out into the trash, "That's it!" Friday encouraged. A few more did the same and one by one the class excitedly did the same. "Ok, quiet down!" Friday ordered.

The class, except the boy with glasses ignored her, "Quiet!" Friday added a tone of menace to her voice and immediately the noise level dropped off. Friday noted that she'd rattled a couple of the kids. Good.

She took the trashcan from top of her desk and placed it back where it belonged, "Thank you. As I was saying what the books teach is fine as far as it goes. But it's at least 15 years out of date. You might think science is useless, genetics irrelevant at best and as boring as hell at worst. Whatever you think, recent events proved that we can't ignore the subject."

The bell rang, end of the lesson and there was an instant shuffling of chairs, "We'll start properly on Thursday. In the mean time think about what we talked about today. Class dismissed."

The class shuffled out, chattering about both the lesson and the teacher. Clearly she'd made an impact.

The rest of her classes that day were a little more conventional, there wasn't much she could disagree with on the subject of Frog anatomy.

By the end of the day she knew that her book ripping ceremony would have become part of school folklore, so there was no surprise when Principal Collier knocked on her door asking to 'have a word'.

"Hello Principal Collier, I thought you might drop in," Friday had to try hard to avoid smiling.

Principal Collier closed the door behind him and turned to face her, "I'm sure you know by now that I've heard about your unusual lesson this morning. I was wondering if you could explain it to me first hand."

Friday detected a slight annoyance in his voice, "I understand your concerns Principal Collier. I made a promise both to you and that class that I would do my very best for the students and to me that means teaching them accurate and up to date information. The words and I hesitate to call it information in that chapter was so completely wrong that I would have broken my word both to you and them if I had taught it."

"So you are saying that you know more genetics and biology than the people who write our curriculums?" Principal Collier stated.

Friday nodded her head, "Yes I am."

"Any evidence to support that almost arrogant statement?" Principal Collier was clearly getting annoyed.

The temptation to really freak him out proved hard to resist, but Friday quickly put any compromising idea out of her mind, "I can't tell you, but it does involve the other work I do occasionally. Just let's say in the area of genetics I know what I'm talking about."

Principal's Colliers eyes widened, "I see. So, is the government going to reimburse the school for the property you destroyed?"

Friday could see his mind whirring, "If they don't I will, once the corrections have been made of course! I promise I'll leave the rest of the books intact and I promise that any kids in my classes who want to learn will do so."

Friday saw her words had, had the desired effects on Principal Collier, "So what do I tell the parents when they phone up telling one of my teachers told their kids to rip up a text book?"

"The truth, you tell them that recent events have forced you to revise the way biology is taught and that in the interests of the student's education you've had the offending chapter removed."

The principal stood up, "Rest assured I'll be keeping a close eye on your results."

Friday smiled, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

--- oo ---

The journey home was uneventful and within 30 minutes she was unlocking the door to her house, "Steve?" she called out. No reply.

She put her briefcase down in the hallway, ready for tomorrow's lesson and walked into the living room. It all looked the same, except the furniture had been moved to the sides, leaving a wide open space in the middle.

"Hi, how was your day?" Steve asked from just behind her. How in hell had he crept up on her!

Friday jumped upwards and back flipped to face Steve. He was dressed in an off white Gi with a faded black belt around his waist. "Not bad. I guess you're expecting me to fight you!"

Steve nodded, "That's the idea. However we need to set some ground rules first. For today I don't want you to use your changeling abilities, so no blades, no poison darts, nothing, just your natural speed, power and agility. We need a baseline on which to work."

Friday was concerned, "What if I hurt you?"

"Then that's down to me being either slow or stupid. Ready?" Steve smiled.

Friday smiled, she was going to enjoy this, "When you are!"

Steve gave a bow, which Friday returned and they both retreated to opposite sides of the living room.

Within moments Steve had closed the gap launched a flurry of rabbit punches at her face, it took all of Friday's speed to avoid them. Fuck he was fast! Milliseconds later she aimed a punch at Steve's thorax and was stunned as he neatly moved out they way.

Suddenly she felt a massive blow to the side of her face as Steve's high kick connected with her jaw. She'd not even seen it!

"Come on you're not trying!" Steve taunted.

Friday said nothing, but became more determined to wipe the smug grin of his face. From the corner of her eye she saw Steve low sweep at her legs and she jumped high to avoid them, on the way down she twisted in mid air hoping to aim a series of punches as she came down. But Steve had already anticipated the counter attack and had rolled out the way.

Time to rethink her approach, she thought as she blocked a punch aimed clearly at the bridge of her nose. The power, speed and accuracy of the punch surprised her.

"Not so tough when you can't use that changeling organ of yours are you?" Steve again taunted her; he was clearly trying to get her to react.

Ok, time to stop reacting and take the initiative! Friday back flipped out of range and came up with a new plan, but before she could do so Steve was right on her again and she barely had time to block a kick to her head and a low punch. The high kick had left Steve's solar plexus vulnerable so she ducked down up threw a jab into his stomach, Steve barely had time to dodge as her punch slammed into his side, barely missing it's intended target.

Steve folded up in pain and called out, "Arggh!" she barely had time to register her hit when a hammer blow slammed into her chest, had it not been for her unique anatomy it surely would have broken a rib. Steve could really throw a punch.

Steve had moved briefly out of range, "Better, but still too slow! Look, you won't hurt me!"

Steve's words stung. She was flat out, and yet somehow he could predict everything she did and was fast enough to react when she did it. Even when fighting a Guild changeling she'd had time to land some blows and think about what to do next. This was like fighting a ghost!

She barely had time to duck and weave as Steve came at her again, punch after punch interspersed with potentially lethal kicks. This time she was ready for the counter attack and managed to dodge and parry each one. By this time she had been driven to the back wall, and an idea formed. She leapt a high as she could and with her legs pushed off the wall, thus flipping her over Steve's head at blinding speed. She delivered a heavy slashing chop to his shoulder and with a crack of bone Steve cried out in pain and went down.

Breathlessly she landed behind him and rushed over to Steve, still clutching his shoulder. Suddenly he twisted and with a loud CRACK a punch smashed into the bridge of her nose, leaving Steve's fist covered in her blood.

"Fuck!" She swore and wiped away the blood streaming from her broken nose. Easily fixable but totally unexpected. She was out of ideas, going by the rules of the game she wasn't allowed to use her changeling organ, only her natural speed and agility. But maybe there was something she hadn't tried.

Steve had got up and was nursing his shoulder, "Never let your Guard down," he nodded towards her bloodied face. Friday smiled and ran at Steve, rabbit punching and dodging his flurry of counterattacks. Her face was now next to his as he sought to push her off him. When they were nearly nose to nose, Friday opened her mouth and pressed her lips to Steve's in a passionate kiss.

Steve hesitated, not knowing whether to respond or push her away. His moment of indecision was all that Friday required. Still kissing Steve, she aimed a punch at his kidneys and with a cry of pain Steve collapsed into the floor, doubling up in pain.

Friday stood over him, victorious at last. The fight now over she repaired her broken nose and went over to help Steve stand up.

"I think you broke my collar bone," Steve said painfully.

"Let me have a look," Friday undid Steve's Gi and examined his shoulder blade.

"OW," Steve protested as Friday tested for fractures.

"I don't think it's broken. We ought to get it X ray'd though," Friday suggested.

"I'd rather not have all that fuss. Let's see how it is in the morning. I see your nose is ok," Friday could detect a note of jealously in Steve's voice.

"You really pushed me!" Friday commented. How in hell had Steve been so fast!

"I know. You were too easy to read. I noticed your eyes flicking towards where you were going to strike me," Steve hobbled over to the Sofa and sat down breathing heavily.

"Did I?" that at least explained how he was able to predict where she was going to strike.

"Yeah, it's a common error, but easily fixed. You learn to read people as you fight them. They leave certain areas unguarded, twist a certain way most of the time, or will follow certain attacks with others more often than not. OW!" Steve rubbed his bruised shoulder once more.

"You sure you don't want to go to ER?" Friday asked.

"Positive! As I said I was too slow and stupid, and YOU cheated!" Steve complained.

Friday reflected back on the kiss, it wasn't that unpleasant, especially the end result! "What was it you said? Never let your guard down! I'm off to make a coffee, want one?"

Steve was in too much pain to banter, "I'll take a shower and sure I'll have a coffee."

"Ok. So how'd I do, really?" Friday asked curiously.

Steve thought for a few moments, "Apart from the eyes and kissing excluded, and the predictability of your attacks you did great. We'll work on those over the next few days."

Friday was concerned. She'd nearly broken Steve's collar bone, "Are you sure?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah. I wanted to see what you could do, next time I'll just watch. At least until this heals."

"Sugar in your coffee right? Friday asked, avoiding the subject.

Steve nodded, "I'll be in the shower."

Friday walked into the kitchen and put the water onto boil. She glanced down at her work clothes she was still wearing. They were covered in blood and would need several washes to get clean. While she waited for the water to boil, she got a clean cloth and wiped her drying blood from around her face and nose. Its warm taste mingled with the saliva in her mouth giving a not unpleasant sensation. What was it with her and blood? The feelings she had when she had killed the leader of the Guild, Hassan with a deadly kiss came flooding back to her. She'd enjoyed killing him and the return of those sensations it awakened caused her concern. If she didn't know better it was almost sexual in nature.

The kettle boiling took her mind away from these disturbing thoughts. She made two cups of coffee and put one on the table outside of Steve's bedroom and took hers inside her own.

She stripped off her bloodied clothes and ran a warm bath. While she waited for it to fill she drank her coffee and took her Stelazine. Turning to the new Mini CD on her dresser, she put in a CD and lay down on the bed waiting for her bath to fill. It had been, she decided a good day.

--- oo ---

Once again Steve wasn't up by the time she got up for work, she had no idea he could be so lazy. Still what he did outside of her training wasn't really any of her business. She'd put the trouser suit in the washer to try and get some of the blood out and had chosen a modest ankle length skirt with a light pink blouse, normally it was a little too 'girlie' for her tastes but what the hell!

She was still aware of eyes following her every move as she walked into the school, no doubt a topic of discussion was her unusual approach to text books and general demeanour. That would soon wear off as the term went on.

The day's lessons went well, and her confidence was growing. In the main they were a good set of kids, of course there were a few drop outs in the making but on the whole by use of good humor, and coaching they could be kept under control. Much to her surprise she found herself enjoying it.

The living room was in it's normal layout when she got home, she must have hurt Steve more than she'd realized, "Steve?" she called out, almost expecting him to ambush her like he'd done the night before. But there was no sign.

"Maybe he left a note," she said to herself and wandered into the kitchen. Sure enough there was a note on the table marked 'Friday'. She took it and tore it open, the page was blank and a close examination of the paper showed it hadn't even been written on as there was no sign of indentations on the page. Typical!

By the time she was ready for bed, Steve still hadn't returned. In spite of her curiousness as to where Steve had gone she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

She found herself standing on a hill overlooking a middle eastern city, the gold turrets of mosques glittered in bright sunlight, tall buildings reflected back the sun almost dazzling her. On every road traffic was building up, people going to and from work and school. Cutting thru the middle of the city was a large eight line highway, and it was already full of cars. Obviously it was rush hour.

A battered oil tanker caught her eye, it was slowly moving to the outskirts of the city.

"Stop that tanker!" she shouted out. It was happening again.

No one was around to hear her. She scrambled down the hill towards the city and spotted a second and a third tanker moving into position.

She sprinted down until she came to a dusty tarmac'd road. It wasn't far to the outskirts of the city, if only she could get there in time, just the once it would be ok. She'd now lost sight of the tankers but knew where they had gone. Breathlessly she ran to the nearest highway and from the other side of the road spotted a phone.

Dodging traffic she sprinted across the road, barging people out of the way on the sidewalk to the phone, picked it up and swore heavily as there was no dial tone. Suddenly from above her head there was a loud explosion, followed by repeated bangs that echoed right across the sky, "NOO!" She shouted as she saw a fine pinkish mist float down from the sky.

A small boy, no more than four years old was the first to scream out in pain. Red lesions formed on his face and arms and started to bleed thick red blood. The boy's mother tried to calm her son down but now her face too was splitting open in deep red gashes. All around her people were screaming and clutching their faces and arms and collapsing to the ground.

The young boy's face was slowly being eaten away by the pink mist now covering the entire city. The flesh on his cheeks had almost gone leaving the whiteish bone of his jaw, his eyes were bulging with pain as they slowly dissolved away. His mother's once delicate skin was hanging off in great rips and folds of flesh as she too succumbed to the effects of the mist.

All she could hear were the screams of the dying that echoed around from every direction until they swamped her mind.

Suddenly she felt herself being shaken awake, "Wha," she started to say.

"Friday, it's me Steve. I heard you screaming are you ok?" Steve's face was showing concern and worry.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It was just a dream. I often have them. I could do with a drink of water though," Friday was still shaking, they always seemed so real with every detail and sensation being indistinguishable from the real thing.

Steve nodded, "I’ll be back in a second."

Friday lay down on the bed, why did she have to have the Tel Aviv dream when Steve was in the house? It always disturbed her the most. At least Steve waking her up had spared her from the most horrific parts.

Steve walked in carrying a glass of water, "Here you go," he said offering it to her.

She took it, "Thanks."

"Want to talk about it?" he asked.

Friday shook her head, "Not really. You know what it was about anyway."

"Cairo?" Steve asked.

"No, Tel Aviv," Friday said softly.

"I see," Steve said, his face full of compassion. He'd not fully realized the depth of her guilt and pain before.

"No you don't! These are my ghosts to exorcise, my evil to redeem, my crimes to punish and my pain to heal. I'm really tired, please let me try to go back to sleep," Friday turned away from Steve, as if it would help absolve her of her past.

Steve saw the tears in her eyes, "If you need me, I'm right next door."

Friday nodded and took a sip of her water, "Thanks. I'll be ok."

Finishing off the rest of her water, she plugged the headphones into her CD play and lay back to listen and to cry herself to sleep.

      "I tried to kill the pain,
      But only brought more.
      (So much more)
      I'm dying,
      And I'm pouring, crimson regret, and betrayal.

      I'm dying,
      Praying,
      Bleeding,
      Screaming.
      Am I too lost to be saved ?
      Am I too lost ?
      My God! My Tourniquet,
      Return to me salvation.
      My God! My Tourniquet,
      Return to me salvation.

      Do you remember me ?
      Lost for so long.
      Will you be on the other side ?
      Will you forgive me ?

      I'm dying,
      Praying,
      Bleeding,
      Screaming.

      Am I too lost to be saved ?
      Am I too lost ?

      My God! My Tourniquet,
      Return to me salvation.
      My God! My Tourniquet,
      Return to me salvation.

      (Return to me salvation)
      (I want to DIE!)

      My God! My Tourniquet,
      Return to me salvation.
      My God! My Tourniquet,
      Return to me salvation.

      My wounds cry for the grave.
      My soul cries, for deliverance.
      Will I be denied ?
      Christ! Tourniquet! My suicide."

8. Trinity
---------------

Friday woke from a restless sleep, her mind full of painful images and horrific memories. She was about to get out of bed when Steve knocked on the door," You awake? I've made a coffee for you."

Ensuring she was decent Friday called out, "Thanks. Come in."

Steve walked in, dressed in a smart grey suit and tie, "I thought I'd see how you were doing before I went to see Heinlein," he gave the coffee to Friday which she took and immediately sipped.

"Last night was one of the worst I've had for a while. Oh Steve, I've done so much evil. I have so much blood on my hands, nothing I can do will wipe it away, and the thing is I will kill more before I'm finally allowed to go free," Friday flicked her long red hair away from her face.

Steve studied her face, her eyes were red with the tears she'd cried overnight and her face had taken on a manner of someone who'd given up on life. "None of us like that part of the job. But it's what we have to do to protect the lives of the innocent. If you killing one tyrant can save hundreds then is that death worthwhile?"

"I don't know anymore. I used to think so, but Steve, there's so much blood, so much of it! My parents are dead, the only friends I ever had think I committed suicide and most of the world remembers me not as someone who stopped a war, but of someone who is the responsible for the deaths of millions."

"For what it’s worth I think of myself as your friend," Steve said softly.

"Thanks. Look, we'll talk more. I'm late for work," Steve's words had given her some comfort but at least it was a start.

--- oo ---

By now Friday was almost teaching by autopilot. The material she was being asked to present was so basic she knew it in her sleep. The challenge was presenting it in such a way that even the dumbest kid could understand it.

She was in the middle of explaining the difference between DNA and RNA to her 'book ripping class' when suddenly there were two loud gunshots. Kids looked around in puzzlement, and then terror. There was another gunshot and a loud scream, which induced panic amongst the class, "Class! Stay here and get down under your desks. Do not open the door to anyone except me! Put desks behind the door and stay away from the doors and windows. Do NOT stand up. Keep down until I come back and give the all clear!" Friday explained, her voice full of calm and reassurance.

This was a very delicate situation, she couldn't go charging in as there were way too many possible witnesses, and yet she needed to save the lives of the kids and teachers. Was it an attack on her by some foreign government or agency? Or something more random?

Carefully she opened the door and peered outside, nothing. The gunshots seemed to have come from just down the hallway. She concentrated on her wrists and a small tube grew from each wrist, she formulated a neurotoxin which would disorientate its victim and placed it inside an organic dart which would fire from each tube. She was grateful she'd worn a long sleeved blouse as it help to hide the tubes to any casual onlookers. Carefully, she inched along the wall until she reached the junction between her corridor and the main entrance.

"Shoot her again!" A juvenile voice called.

Friday could just make out a feminine whimper of fear. Good at least the victim was still alive.

She peered around the corner and saw two boys, both with jeans and black T shirts. Around their heads they wore red bandannas, obviously it was some kind of gang uniform. Friday could just make out the legs of the girl they had shot, but couldn't tell how badly she'd been wounded. They boys were out of range of her dart and in the way of her assessment of the girl. Stealthily she crept around the corner and ducked behind a locker.

"We’ve already shot her twice, why'd we need to do it again?" The other boy protested.

"Cus you missed once already, Hurry!" The other one called out.

Clearly there was no time for stealth. Friday walked out from behind the locker and called out, "HEY!"

The boys whirled round to face her and instantly fired two shots. Friday dodged one but was nearly slammed off her feet as the second shot smashed her shoulder blade to fragments. Instantly she stopped the internal blood loss, sealing the smashed bone would come later. She was still too far away to use her dart weapons, she had to get closer. "Put the guns down!" she ordered.

The boy's eyes widened, they expected this young woman teacher to be crying in agony and begging for mercy. Friday saw them raise the guns once more, Fuck!

She was ready for the next two gunshots, but one just grazed her thigh, drawing blood as it did so. Now she was within range.

She leapt high into the air and pushed off the side of the wall with her legs to change direction in time to dodge another two gunshots. She extended an arm on the way down and fired a dart the boy on the right.

The dart struck him cleanly in the chest and he immediately started to convulse as the poison took effect. Their victim, a young blonde cheerleader screamed as the boy started to foam at the mouth. His compatriot knowing he was outclassed turned to run but Friday was too quick she overtook him as he sprinted down the corridor and landed a devastating punch to his ribcage, she felt his ribs crack under her fist and he went down writhing in pain.

She turned her attention to the first boy who was now recovering from the poison, before he could find the gun he'd dropped, Friday was onto him and delivered a low sweep to his legs. The boy screamed in pain as her low kick splintered his ankles and he dropped to the ground shouting "Fucking Bitch!"

The girl was screaming both in pain and in fear and was almost hysterical. Friday walked over to her and knelt down beside her, "Shh it'll be fine. I'm a Doctor!" The girl ignored her and carried on shaking in fear. Pools of blood had started to form under her legs, and a quick glance at them showed that she had been hit twice, once in each leg. "Don't worry about them," she nodded towards the boys who were still on the ground writhing in pain. Friday put her hands on the girl's legs and used the pressure points to slow down the bleeding. The girl looked at the blood seeping from the wound in Friday's shoulder and fainted.

Friday took hold of the girls skirt and tore two long thin strips and bound the wounds, tight enough to restrict blood flow, but not too tight to kill the leg. She put the girl into the recovery position and turned her attention to the two boys.

The nearest boy looked on Friday in fear, "I shot you bitch!" he spat.

Friday studied the boys ankles, his feet were twisted in two different directions, clearly he wasn't going anywhere. She walked over to the second boy, still clutching his shattered ribcage, he was finding breathing difficult and Friday suspected a lung had collapsed. She knelt down beside him, his eyes wide with dread, "Hurts doesn't it! Maybe I should have killed you! She hissed.

"No, please," the boy breathed.

"You feel that rasping in your chest, that's your lung collapsing against your shattered ribcage."

"Please," the boy sobbed.

Friday stood up and ribbed her sleeve off of her blouse, "Today you were lucky," She bent down and as a precaution bound the boys legs together just in case he decided to run.

The situation now under control she retracted the tubes in her wrists and examined her clothes for damage and blood. The shoulder of her blouse had a hole in it, surrounded by a large blood stain on where the bullet had entered. She wriggled her arm and winced in pain. It felt as though the bullet was still in there, it had obviously been stopped by her shoulder blade. Apart from the mess her blouse was in she was fine. She debated whether to heal the injury and leave the wound or to leave it as is, but again the need for secrecy won out. She'd leave it alone. The graze on her thigh however could be safely healed, and within a matter of moments all trace of the wound had gone.

She walked over to the girl and made sure the bleeding had stopped. Both boys had passed out under the pain of their injuries so she put them in the recovery position and made sure the one with the collapsed lung was ok. There was nothing left to do, but to wait for the paramedics and police.

She didn't have to wait long as within three minutes black suited figures appeared at the end of the hallway and called out, "Police! Stand up and put your hands against the wall."

Friday did so and within seconds was being frisked by a lady officer, "Hey I'm wounded!" Friday protested.

"Turn around, still keeping your hands up!" A male cop ordered.

Friday complied, ignoring the pain in her shoulder.

"Who are you?" The cop demanded.

"Friday Carrell, the science teacher. Can I put my arms down now?"

The cop noticed the blood stain on her blouse, and nodded. He immediately got on the radio "Paramedics, we have four wounded get in here, the area is secure, repeat area is secure.."

Friday lowered her arms, "The girl has two bullet wounds to the legs, which I've dressed, and she's ok. The guy there has two broken ankles, with compound fractures and the guy over there has at least two broken ribs and a collapsed lung. It feels as though I've got a shattered collarbone and I suspect the bullet is still in there."

The cop gave Friday a suspicious look. "Stay here!" he demanded and indicated for the cop on the right to cover Friday with his police issue .38.

Moments later the paramedic team arrived and carefully assessed the wounded on the floor, two other paramedics came over to Friday to asses her injury. "It'll be ok, what about them?" she asked.

"Not sure yet, they're pretty beat up. Let me take a look at that," The paramedic offered. Friday undid the top two buttons of her blouse and allowed the female paramedic to look at the wound, "Look's pretty clean, and it's stopped bleeding which is good. How do you feel?"

"My shoulder hurts like hell, and I'm sure I can feel the bullet still in there."

"Ok, we'll need to get you to hospital to get that X-Ray'd."

Fuck! "Sure, as soon as the cops have finished with me," Friday stalled for time.

The paramedic turned to the cop "She needs to get that X'rayed it's not life threatening but the sooner she goes the quicker it'll heal."

The cop nodded, "We'll take this up at the hospital."

FUCK! Friday swore inwardly, an X ray would reveal her unusual internal makeup and blow her cover. Why in hell did she get involved? Maybe Steve could help. "I need to use a phone to call my husband," she smiled at the cop.

"Sure go ahead, use mine," the cop said and pulled out his cell phone.

Friday dialed Steve's number, it rang a few times and was then picked up, "Steve Grayson."

"Steve it's Friday. I'm ok but there's been an incident at the school."

"I've just seen the newsflash, some kind of shooting. Tell me you didn't get involved.!" Friday could hear Steve's resigned groan down the phone.

"I couldn't let those kids die! I've been shot in the shoulder, it's not bad but the police and paramedics are demanding I go for an X Ray," Friday tried to keep her voice calm and reassuring. No doubt she was being overheard.

"FUCK, What do you want?" Steve swore.

"I want you to come to the hospital and sort it out, do whatever you have to but sort it out!"

She heard Steve sigh down the phone, "I'll be there within 30 minutes. Try not to make too much of scene. Don't worry!"

"Bye Steve," Friday said and handed the phone back to the cop.

"Come with me Mrs. Carrell," the paramedic said and put an orange fleece blanket around her. By now the other casualties had been loaded onto gurneys and were being prepared for transport.

The scene waiting for Friday as she stepped out of the main entrance was that of pure chaos. Police cars lined the sidewalks, their lights flashing making the scene appear even more chaotic. TV crews were everywhere looking for that elusive scoop. Her students and the others were probably on the sports field undergoing a roll call and she was in deep shit.

The paramedic gestured for her to go into the ambulance which she did so and the door closed behind her.

Again the question arose, should she repair the wound or let things take their course? As soon as she took the bullet and the blood seeped onto her clothes the X ray was inevitable, however there was a chance they wouldn't do a full chest X-Ray only one of her shoulder, but she couldn't take that chance. She'd considered a few options such as absorbing all her spare organs, thus leaving a normal looking body, but one thing couldn't be disguised, the extra pancreas sized organ where her appendix should have been. Any doctor worth his pay would spot it right away.

"That was a brave thing you did!" The paramedic spoke to her for the first time.

Friday pretended to doze and ignored him.

Twenty minutes later Friday, now sat in a wheelchair was being wheeled into the X ray department. She had only got half way there when she noticed Steve dressed as a doctor. He walked over to the orderly and whispered in his ear, he then stood behind Friday's wheelchair and started to push.

"Steve?" Friday queried.

"Shh! We've got it all planned. I'll direct the X-Ray scan, shoulder only. Heinlein is livid at you!"

Friday smiled inwardly, "That's the best news I've heard all day!"

"It's not funny!" Steve hissed, "He's seriously pissed at you!"

"For what, saving some kids lives?" Friday snapped.

"Your secret is worth more than that! Anyway, it's just through here," Steve pointed and wheeled Friday inside.

Steve's manner changed as he entered the room, "Now Mrs. Carrell we need examine you properly. Please lie on the bed and let us take off your blouse."

Friday shot Steve a look that would have killed several people. There was no need for her to take any clothing off he just wanted to see her semi naked! The nurse undid her blouse for her, revealing her smooth tanned skin with a ring of bloodied and damaged flesh about an inch wide.

Steve gave Friday an approving wink, the bastard! She suspected this was Heinlein's way at getting back at her!

The bed was wheeled under the X ray machine and over the next five minutes several exposures of her shoulder were taken. The results were instantly processed and displayed on a screen behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Steve press the nearby intercom and talk into it.

Two minutes later two proper doctors walked in and examined the prints. Friday sat up and wrapped the blanket she'd been given around her, "Mrs. Carrell?" one of the doctors asked.

"Yes," it wasn't worth arguing the point about her marital title.

The doctor explained, pointing at the newly developed X-Ray prints, "You were very lucky, another two inches and the bullet would have hit your lungs. Saying that, we will need to perform surgery to remove the bullet and fragments of bone as soon as possible, meaning now. We'll give you a local anesthetic here and take you down to theatre right away. Although your condition isn't life threatening, if we leave the bullet in there and the bone fragments it'll only get infected, thus causing further complications."

Friday nodded, she understood the drill, and she knew she could perform the operation with her eyes closed.

The other doctor walked over to her, with a pre prepared dose of local anesthetic and injected into her shoulder, "Ow!" she protested. It didn't actually hurt but it helped maintain the show. From now on she couldn't use her abilities at all in case anything unusual was spotted.

She was helped by Steve into her wheelchair again and by the time she had reached theatre her arm and shoulder felt numb. When she arrived at pre op she was helped into a green surgical gown and she obediently lay down on a gurney waiting to be bought into theater.

It was then just a simple matter of lying back and ignoring the prodding and poking she could numbly feel as the surgeons worked to remove the bullet from her shoulder. She heard the plunk of the bullet being put into a dish and smaller clinks of the fragments of bone. By the sensations she could feel the bullet had made a real mess, but at least the surgeon was efficient.

Half an hour later her wound had been stitched up and dressed and she was being wheeled to a ward where she was sure the police were waiting to interview her.

She was not disappointed, as ten minutes after she'd stretched out on the bed, the police officer who had promised to interview her walked in, "Mrs. Carrell? My name is Detective Jackson, I'd like to ask you a few questions. Are you feeling up to it? I realize you're just out of surgery, so just let me know and I'll come back when you're ready."

She'd have to get it over with sometime, "Yeah my shoulders a little sore but otherwise I'm ok. How's the girl?"

Detective Jackson glanced at his notes, "She'll be fine, she's a little shaken up but her family are with her and the doctors say she's in no danger."

"And the boys?" Friday asked.

Again more consulting with notes, "As you said, one has multiple compound fractures to his ankles, the other has two broken ribs and a collapsed lung. They'll live. So what happened?"

Friday paused, "I was teaching my 12th grade class when I heard two gunshots, and then another followed by a scream. I instructed my class to get down and barricade themselves in."

"So what did you do? All the other teachers stayed in their classes, why did you leave yours?"

Friday recognized the implied criticism, "Because I couldn't stand by and wait while those kids murdered people at random."

Detective Jackson scribbled some more notes on his pad, "What made you think you could stop it?"

"Like I said I couldn't stand by and wait while innocent children were killed."

"One of the boys said in his statement that, and I quote "She was like that chick from the Matrix, she was just a blur, next thing I knew she'd punched me in the ribs and nearly killed me!"

Friday just gave the officer a smile, "He was probably high on drugs, or too hyped up to take much notice. Look, I know my martial arts pretty well. To anyone who's not seen anyone really good at them it can look pretty spectacular."

More note taking, "And then the girl, she says she saw you being shot in the shoulder but you didn't even slow down. You just took the bullet and carried on as though nothing had happened. The other boy said you shot him with something that made him froth at the mouth, before you smashed his ankles to bits."

"Your point officer?" Friday asked.

"Something here doesn't add up. The doctors have had a look at the boys injuries, the amount of damage isn't consistent with what a woman of your size and weight could do.."

"Look, detective. You should know I had nothing to do with this, except using my skills to save the lives of several students," Friday wasn't going to be goaded into saying anything rash.

More note taking, "Mrs Carrell, I'm sure hundreds of people across this nation are grateful for your actions today, as are we all. All I'm saying is that things don't quite add up and I hate mysteries."

"The human body is a wonderful thing Detective, it can mask shock and pain to carry on regardless, it can use muscles in ways that are beyond what they are normally capable of. I would look to that as the answer to your supposed mystery," Friday explained.

The detective shrugged, "I suppose so. That's it for the moment. Oh by the way, the parents of the girl you saved wanted to thank you personally I promised I'd ask you."

"Sure, I guess they're still here?"

"They're just outside I'll send them in. Oh and good job," His job over the detective could finally give Friday a smile.

A few moments later there was a knock at the door, "Come in," Friday called.

In walked a middle aged man, slightly balding and dressed in a suit, next to him was his wife, a small lady about 5'1 with bleached blonde hair and dressed in a mauve tracksuit. "Are you Mrs. Carrell?" the man asked.

Friday nodded, somehow them being here helped restore her faith in her own ability to do good, "Yeah."

"We're Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. We've come to thank you for saving our daughter," the man's voice was tinged with emotion. It had been a rough day.

"I hear she'll be fine," Friday smiled.

"She will, look if there's anything we can do?" the man replied.

"You've done more than you know," Friday replied. The depression bought on by the dreams earlier on that day had been lifted. Here was someone who thought of her as a good person!

"Are you sure, thank you seems such a small thing for the gift you gave us today," the wife spoke for the first time and Friday noticed her mascara starting to run with fresh tears.

"No really. It's ok!" Friday was getting a little embarrassed at all the hero worship.

"I heard you were shot!" The man asked.

"Only in the shoulder, it'll mend. Thank you for coming, but you must excuse me I'm feeling really tired and my husband wants to see me," Friday stated.

"Of course! He must have been very worried. Thank you again," the man's voice tailed awkwardly off.

"I'll look forward to seeing your daughter at school," Friday smiled and lay back on the bed so as the send a clear message to the parents.

"Thank you again," the woman said awkwardly.

Friday said nothing and waited for the couple to leave.

There was another knock at the door, "Friday?"

It was Steve. Now what!

"Come in."

Steve walked in, this time without his doctors coat, "Hi, Are the cops all done?"

"Yeah. I don't think they suspected anything amiss, I was careful not to let anyone see anything really outrageous. How are things here?" Friday knew that Steve had gone out on a limb for her.

Steve casually sat down on the end of the bed, "The X rays we took showed nothing of your unique anatomy. The surgeon's who removed the bullet stated that there was an unusual lack of internal tissue damage but nothing to make them look any deeper. I'd say we dodged a bullet. Well your secret did, even if YOU didn't!"

"Steve come here a moment," Friday beckoned him closer.

Steve obliged and sat down on the chair next to her bed.

Quicker than he could react Friday raised a hand and slapped him hard across the cheek, "That's for making me take my blouse off!"

"OW!" The blow had nearly stunned him! Steve rubbed his cheek, trying to dull the pain, "I guess I deserved that!"

Friday left it at that, "Thanks for clearing things up back there. It could've got really nasty. Do we know why the kids did it?"

Steve shrugged, "Not really. They did mention something about a death pact they'd made but they're still being interrogated, nothing to do with you or us as far as we can tell."

"I expect I'll be national news soon, how are we going to handle that?" Friday asked. She'd only just got used to being Friday Carrell, and didn't particularly want to change aliases just yet.

"We've got a handle on it, to the media you'll be the heroic teacher who saved the lives of her students. In any case if we send you on missions that demand anonymity you'll be given another ID anyway. So I'm afraid we're still married and you're still working as a teacher."

Friday decided to change the subject. "They'll want to take the stitches out in a few days time so I have to let it heal the old fashioned way. I guess that counts anymore training out."

Steve nodded, "Well the physical side anyway, for a week or so you'll need to study. It'll take that long for your celebrity status to die down from the national press. I suspect you'll be a local hero for a while longer."

"Yeah s'pose so."

"I'd better get going, Heinlein needs to be briefed on events here, hopefully that'll reduce his blood pressure," Steve stood up to leave.

"On a scale of one to ten, how pissed off is he?" Friday asked, hoping it would be off the scale.

"About a six, it'll be fine. You need your rest, I'll see you in the morning," Steve gave her one of his cute winks and left the room.

Friday dimmed the lights in the room, saving the girl and sparing the lives of the two boys had made her feel more at peace. If by working for the government she could save more lives, then surely her path back to humanity and redemption wouldn't take that long. That night she dreamed happy dreams.

--- oo ---

Friday woke to the smell of flowers, in the night the medical orderlies had moved several bouquets of flowers into her room and a pile of get well cards stood at least two feet high on her bedside table. She must have been sound asleep not to hear them. She sat up and started to open the cards.

An hour later there was a knock at the door, "Ms Carrell?" it was Principal Collier.

Friday put down the envelope she was about to open, "Come in?"

The door opened and Principal Collier walked in, "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Much better thank you, it's amazing what a good nights sleep can do. How's the girl?"

"Angela? She's on the mend. I must confess to being highly skeptical about having a government agent as a teacher in my school, your book defacing act on your first day did nothing to help your cause. I dropped in to thank you and to apologize. If you hadn't have been there, then a terrible tragedy would have struck our school. We've had to draft in a substitute teacher while you get better, but I want you to know that you are welcome back as soon as you feel able."

"Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that. Is my class ok, I left them alone so that I could go after the gunmen I'm sorry that I exposed them to danger."

"They understood why you did what you did, even though they were terrified at the time. A few of them wanted to come along and wish you well. I hope you don't mind?"

This hero business was getting a little out of hand, but if it helped the kids then why not, "Sure, send them in."

"Adrian, Jason, Sandy?" Principal Collier called out.

In walked three of her 12th grade class. To her surprise Adrian Follett, one of the trouble makers at the back of her class walked in, followed by a smaller kid in glasses and ill fitting jeans, and followed in by a pretty blonde girl in hipster jeans and a halter top. They took positions around her bed and looked lost for words.

"Hi, glad to see your ok," Friday broke the ice.

"We heard all about what you did, You rock!"

Friday smiled, typical Adrian comment, "Thanks Adrian."

"Ms Carrell, We'd, we'd all like to thank you. It's all around the school how you took on Greg and Shane single handed, even though they had guns n all." Jason's eyes showed respectful awe thru his thin rimmed glassed.

The girl didn't say anything, but she was staring at Friday's sling, "It'll be ok Sandy. It'll heal just fine!" Friday knew what she was thinking.

"When will you be back Miss?" Adrian asked.

"Probably a week or so, I'll be out later on today, but I need to give my shoulder time to heal properly. I'm sure whoever they bring in will do fine."

Principal Collier interrupted, "Come on let's go. I'm sure Ms Carrell needs her rest," he stood up and ushered the students out leaving Friday alone once more.

Friday sighed and checked the clock on the wall, only another three hours before Steve came and picked her up.

--- oo ---

Some four hours later Friday was laying on her sofa, at home and drinking a glass of cold OJ. She'd managed to avoid much of the news crews that had surrounded the hospital and at last was in her own home and away from the media circus that was encamped outside.

"I've got a whole load of technical manuals for you to study while you're on the mend, everything from weapons specifications to combat techniques," Steve gestured to a large cardboard box propped up against the far wall.

Steve's tone suggested that he was going away while she convalesced, "Sounds as though you won't be around?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah we've got some more info on the shooting down of our chopper and I need to follow it up. I'll need to go New York for a few days and then on to Seoul. Don't worry it's not anything dangerous."

"So, basically I kick my heels around here for a week while you go off on some mission for Heinlein?"

"There's no other option, you're supposed to be wounded remember. No doubt people will drop in to wish you well and you'll be needed here to maintain our cover. In the meantime you have a lot of studying to do. So far you've got as far as you have on raw talent and ability, as you saw I pushed you pretty hard because my training and experience was almost able to counter everything you did."

Friday had to admit Steve had a point, "Ok, point taken. How's the shoulder?"

"I had it checked at the hospital while you were in surgery. It's just bruised and nothings broken."

"Good. When do you have to leave?" Friday asked.

"Within the next hour or so," Steve turned to go to his room. He had a lot to do

"Steve," Friday called out.

"Yeah?" He turned to face Friday once more.

"Take care," Friday said softly. In spite of his annoyances she was growing fond of him.

Steve smiled, "I'm not gone yet. I suggest you start with 'Jane's gun recognition guide. I've thrown in some books on the tissue damage caused by certain types of round, so that'll help you know what to avoid being shot by."

"Thanks. It's more trouble trying to convince everyone I'm just a normal gal than it is taking on the threat itself!" There had to be away around all this hassle every time she got injured.

Steve smiled and said "Tell me about it! Maybe you should learn to try not to get shot in the first place."

Friday got off the sofa and went to the box of books, the sooner she started the sooner she finished. She'd always found study easy, having a photographic memory helped enormously and in what appeared to be mere seconds Steve was calling out, "Right I'm off, see you in a week."

Friday put her book down and escorted Steve to the door, "Be careful," she whispered.

"I will. It's mostly sitting in offices listening to briefings anyway."

"It's the other bits I'm concerned about," to her surprise she gave Steve a kiss on the cheek. Where had that come from?

Steve was equally surprised, "Now I've got something to come back for?" He grinned.

"Don't bet on it! You’d better go" She was still puzzled by what made her kiss Steve on the cheek, she thought she'd had more control of her emotions.

"Cya," and Steve gave Friday a single fingered salute.

Friday closed the door behind him and went back to her study, she had the whole place to herself for a week and she meant to enjoy it.

9. Mission 2: The Don
-----------------------------

The first two days dragged, she was almost housebound as she was constantly dogged by phone calls and callers asking for an interview or to offer their gratitude.

TV provided a welcome distraction, albeit a brain numbing one. The books Steve had given her were informative, but to be honest she was sure most of it was just to give her something to do.

The swimming pool was another method she employed to amuse herself. Of course she still had to swim one armed, as she couldn't risk healing the wound before her stitches were due to come out. On the face of it, her wound was healing nicely by itself and whoever had done the stitches had done good job of reducing the possibility of scarring. Not that it mattered in her case, but the surgeon wasn't to know that.

The rest of the week flew by and before she knew it she was driving back from the hospital after being given a clean bill of health. The doctors were more than pleased with her progress and she was told that her stitches would slowly dissolve over the next two weeks. Her collar bone, she was told would always show signs of damage, but it would heal up nicely, and she was to come back in 3 months to get it checked. She had enquired about the boys she had taken down but was politely told it was now a police matter. To be honest she had expected nothing less, but it was worth a go.

She parked the car, and moved the pile of thank you letters that was blocking the door and walked inside. After closing the door and curtains she took off her blouse, she waited a week for this moment.

Seconds later, the sensation of healing bone and flesh had passed and Friday casually picked out the remains of the stitches from her shoulder. She rotated and stretched her right arm. No pain and no twinges, as good as new, and no sign of scarring on her shoulder. Excellent!

She put her blouse back on and settled down on the sofa to read a paper on the recommended method of dealing with hostage scenarios. The sound of a key being turned in the lock put her on full alert, Steve wasn't due back for two more days.

She silently got off the sofa and positioned herself behind the hall doorway, the fingers on her left hand fused together to form a serrated cutting blade and from her right wrist she grew a dart throwing tube loaded with a deadly neurotoxin. She re-enforced her ribcage and chest and put additional bony armor around her spare set of organs.

She heard the footsteps coming towards her and took a quick glance around the door. She smiled, it was only Steve back early from the mission. However, there was no point in wasting the energy she'd used. She absorbed the tube back into her wrist, but kept the blade hand. Now fully in attack mode she waited for Steve to walk thru the doorway.

"Friday, Honey, I'm home. You there?" Steve called out and walked thru the doorway.

Instantly Friday was on him, her blade hand to his throat, "Don't call me honey!" She hissed. Steve immediately dropped the briefcase he'd been carrying. Steve's body relaxed and Friday knew what was coming next. He was trying to catch her off guard. His elbow slammed into her ribcage, but it did no damage thru the additional armor she'd grown. She pressed her razor sharp bone blade closer to his throat, "Don't call me honey ever!"

"Alright, Sorry. Look we've got work to do let me go," Steve protested. What was she playing at?

Friday released him and was just in time to catch hold of Steve's fist as he swung it at her face, grabbing hold of his knuckles and pressing them inwards she forced Steve to his knees, "Submit?"

"Ow, don't break my hand, Yes whatever!"

Friday let go of the fist and gestured to Steve with her blade hand to sit on the sofa. Moments later the serrated blade was a feminine hand again.

Still rubbing his hand, Steve got up and sat down on the sofa beside Friday, "You sure missed me!"

"Sorry, had to be done!" Friday smiled, and told her changeling organ to remove the armor she'd grown over her vital organs.

"As much as I enjoy our play fights I've come back early for a reason. We've got a job for you," Steve gestured to Friday to take a seat at the dining table.

"What kind of job?" Friday asked, coming so soon after the last one and bringing Steve back early it must be an important one. She followed Steve's gesture and sat at the dining table.

"An important one. What do you know about Doctor Yuri Abramovich?" Steve asked as he retrieved his briefcase from the floor.

That name rung a bell, Where had she heard it before. Got it! "Geneticist? He published a few papers a few years ago, interesting ideas, but totally wrong!"

Steve nodded, "We've had information that he's been captured by the Russian Mafia."

Friday looked puzzled, "For what reason? Last thing I heard he was at Moscow State University. After the Fury directive banned all research on the human genome he went back to teaching. He's not bad as far as it goes, not in my league of course but very competent."

"We believe the Russian mafia has obtained the section of the changeling organ you pulled out of a Guild agent and that we sent to Russia," Steve said solemnly.

"Fuck! And they want him to tell them how it works?" Friday guessed.

"That we don't know. In any case it's your job to get him out alive and obtain the remains of the changeling organ section before it can be sold to the highest bidder," Steve explained.

Friday thought for moment "I don’t get it; you couldn't get anything useful from the sections we sent out. We made sure of it, and with all due respect to Doctor Abramovich, he isn't me. Anyway he specialized in bacterial modification. So where's the danger?"

"No idea, that's what we agued but this came straight from the top. We can't trust the Russians to deal with it, the mafia own most of their security services. So it's down to us. We can't take the risk that either Doctor Abramovich or the changeling organ section falls into the wrong hands," Steve said earnestly.

Friday had to agree, the danger however unlikely was obvious, "So what do I do?"

Steve placed the briefcase on the table, and moved the latches to a combination that Friday couldn't quite see. With a click the briefcase opened and Steve pulled out a brown manila dossier and placed it on the table. "This," he said showing Friday a photo of a middle aged man, with dark black hair and thin angular face," is Doctor Abramovich."

"He's dyed his hair, it was gray last time we met," Friday commented.

"Anyway, Dr Abramovich was taken two days ago by men belonging to this man, Alexi Ivanov," Steve showed Friday a faded photo of a younger man in his thirties, the man had blonde hair, cut military style. The man's eyes were a striking steel blue and his thin mouth gave him a look of obvious power and menace.

"Do we know where he was taken to?" Friday asked.

Steve shook his head, "We think he's been taken to Alexi's main compound and that's where you come in. We need you to infiltrate Alexi's organization and find out where Dr Abramovich is, and then get him and the changeling organ out of there and back to our embassy in Moscow. We'll then take it from there."

"I don't speak Russian, I can get in no problem but the language barrier is an issue."

"We've thought of that. One of the businesses Alexi's organization is into is prostitution and the white slave trade."

Friday's heart sank, she knew what was going to be asked of her, "No I won’t do it! There must be another way."

"There is. We need an operative inside Alexi's organization long term. So you'll pick up this lady," Steve showed Friday a photo of a young woman in her twenties, her attractive face was framed by tumbling black hair and her deep brown eyes gave off the impression of helplessness, "This is Susan Mstislavich. You'll act as her 'owner' and will bring her to Alexi."

Friday was disgusted, "That's terrible! Won’t Alexi be suspicious of a female slave trader?" She didn't relish the thought being in a male body.

Steve shrugged, "We do this sort of thing from time to time. Actually, women traders are trusted more than men are, less risk of damaged goods. Susan is fine with it, don't worry about her. She'll stay inside Alexi's organization and keep us informed as to what's going on there. You'll be welcome there for a few hours so you'll have time to find out where Doctor Abramovich is being held."

"Then what?"

"You get him and the remains of the changeling organ out in anyway you can. If anyone sees you change, kill them. I don't have to say how important this is to us."

Friday nodded, but she didn't feel anywhere near ready, "So how do I get in?"

"After flying into Moscow, pick up a bag from locker 965 in the lost property area, then rent a car and pick up Susan from here," Steve showed Friday an address and a photo of a block of drab concrete apartments, "She's being held in apartment 247. We've already built your cover story and arranged for her to be sold to Alexi. All you need to do is pretend to be her seller, leave her there and you know the rest. You'll need to identify yourself to her, so the phrase to use 'the rock cried out no hiding place'."

Seemed simple enough, "Quick work?"

"Actually we've been working on getting Susan in place for months, this came up at just the right time. We believe Alexi's compound is located within the Serebryany Bor suburb, located to the North West of the city centre, "Steve pointed to the location on a street map of Moscow.

"Nice place," Friday commented. The area was heavily forested and had several large lakes criss-crossing the area.

Steve nodded and pulled out a detailed satellite photo, "The compound is one mile up this private road here. It's the only way in and out unless you want to try and get past the razor wire electrified fence and guard dogs. As you can see he employs a small army to guard the place and ensure his privacy."

"Friendly guy, what's that there?" Friday pointed to a separate barn shaped building to the right of the main complex.

"We're not sure. Notice the ventilation ducts on the roof and storage tanks next to it. Our best guess is that's where Dr Abramovich is, as its profile fits that of a small lab; but to be honest until you get there we won't know for sure," Steve pointed out the features on a close up of the building.

"So how many men and how are they armed?" Friday asked. A plan was formulating in her mind, but she needed to know what she was up against.

" Last estimates state Alexi has between 50 and 60 guards, armed with a mixture of small arms, AK47's and RPG-7's. Enough to put off rival gangs from attacking. We know between 10 and 15 of these are ex Spetsnaz so they'll be very good, probably at least equal to the Guild Fedayeen you went up against in Australia."

Friday took a deep breath, that encounter had nearly killed her! "Which is why you need me, to infiltrate in and get out without starting a minor war."

Steve nodded, "That's the idea. If it all goes to hell, kill Dr Abramovich and destroy the changeling organ, even if it means you die in the process. We have to stop them falling into terrorist hands. Here's your ticket, and passport," Steve passed Friday an airline ticket and a German passport.

Friday opened the passport, "Katharina Weber," her eyes flicked across to the photo. The face was very similar to her own, copper hair, blue eyes, a smaller nose and slightly fuller cheeks. She read the bio details, age 33, slightly taller than her at 5'10 and no distinguishing marks as such, "You don’t have to make them all look like me," Friday commented.

Steve smiled, "Katharina's from the old GDR side of Berlin. Germans, especially those from the old GDR tend to arouse less suspicion than Americans, and besides I'm sure your German needs the practice."

"So when do I leave?" Friday asked. Steve's information had confirmed her plan, for sure it was audacious but the only way she could get Dr Abramovich and herself out alive.

"Tonight, it'll take a good twelve hours to get to Moscow so make the most of it. From the moment you leave this house you're on your own. Don't expect us to come get you."

As she thought, they wanted deniability for her very existence. "I guess I'd better go pack."

"Good luck. As long you as you're careful it'll be ok," Steve said encouragingly

Friday didn't reply. That's what they'd said about the North Korea mission.

--- oo ---

Friday collected her meager luggage from baggage collection and once again sailed thru passport control. She'd adjusted her features before she'd reached the airport and as usual the ID she'd been provided was watertight. She felt at home being two inches taller, 5'10 was her old height when she was in the original body she was born with.

Casually she collected a small but fairly heavy bag from the lost property locker, handed over her passport to the Hertz rental desk, and collected the keys to a yellow sub compact Fiat Punto. She only needed it to pick up Susan from the apartment and to drive to Alexi's compound. Once she was sure she couldn't be seen she opened the bag and investigated the contents. Much of the bag was taken up by a small stub like machine gun, which from her reading she recognized as a CZ-61 Skorpion. Perfect for close quarters fighting, light in weight and ideal for the mission ahead. She quickly pulled out 3 magazines and deftly loaded it and ensuring the safety was on stowed it under her seat.

On the flight over, she'd wondered what kind of person would offer to do the sort of things Susan was being asked to do and wondered if she could ever to the same. Probably not, she'd always been very careful as to who she gave herself to. She'd only ever had five lovers, of which only Matthew and Cathline had been serious. The other three had been at college and she'd been young and naïve. Now it would have to be someone special, really special to even get beyond first base. What was it she'd told Matthew? 'All love is requited Matthew, all of it'. It was a belief she held onto at the core of her being. As her dreams had proven, in her heart there was only room for the screams of the dying and for ghosts of the past. All hope of love, true love had been just about extinguished.

On reflection it made her current job easier, and somehow her being able to take on different bodies and personas was a way of ignoring the loneliness and of hiding the past. When she was someone else the pain went away.

She'd only driven a mile on the M3 from Sheremetyevo Airport when she heard a siren wailing from behind her, followed by red and blue flashing lights, "Fuck!" she breathed to herself and pulled over.

One cop got of the car, and walked over to her. He tapped on the window and spoke something in Russian which she didn't understand. As casually as she could she wound the window down, smiled and said in her best German, "Yes officer."

The cop then replied in English. "Passport!"

Friday nodded and slowly reached into the glove compartment and retrieved her Katharina Weber passport. She handed it to the cop and asked in English "What have I done officer?"

The cop double checked the photo on the passport with her face and then handed it back to her, "You were speeding!"

Like fuck I was! Friday thought. Best thing to do was swallow her pride and pay the bribe, "I'm very sorry," another sweet smile, "How much officer?"

"One hundred dollar and we'll forget it," the cop offered.

"Ok, it's in my purse," Friday said, inwardly fuming at the corrupt cop. She reached under her seat and pulled out her purse, a few seconds later she handed the cop a hundred dollar bill.

"Thank you, drive safely," The cop put the money in his top pocket.

Another flirting smile, "I will," She tried not to show relief that the cop hadn't searched the car, "Bye officer."

Friday watched in the mirror as the cop took the money from his pocket and showed it to his partner in the car. The only thing that was pleasing about the whole sordid affair was that it was Heinlein's money. She started the car and drove off.

Navigating around Moscow was a nightmare, not only were the roads crammed full of maniac drivers in beaten up Ladas and Trabants but occasionally a new Mercedes or BMW would barge its way thru. The city itself was an eclectic mix of the old and new. The most famous areas such as the Kremlin, Lenin's tomb and the various palaces had been cordoned off to traffic. Therefore she was left looking after street after street of concrete and post communist decay. It was tragically sad that this once beautiful city had been scarred by the Second World War, and then subjected for over 70 years to the unemotional development of the Soviet regime . Occasionally she saw flecks of beauty thru the highways, hidden parks, secret gardens and majestic buildings. It was just enough to lift the city from its concrete gloom. She would have loved to explore it on foot; no doubt it would have changed her whole view of the place.

After making several wrong turns she finally parked outside of the apartments and was greeted by two men, suited in black and standing at least 6'5 apeice and weighing at least 300lbs. From the bulge in their jackets Friday knew they were armed. They must be the goons guarding Susan. She saw one of them pull out a photo and point to her.

Ignoring her nerves, she collected her passport and purse from the glove box and casually walked up to them and heard one of them call out in English, "Katharina?"

Friday nodded. By now she'd adjusted her body to be on full alert. One wrong move or word and the whole mission would be blown. "Where is she? Alexi is waiting?" Friday asked. It was better she had decided to act confident and keen, she knew from experience that the more timid one was the more people grew suspicious.

"Upstairs, 247," the man on the right uttered and gestured upwards. Friday caught a glimpse of a SR-2 9mm machine pistol tucked casually in the man's belt.

"Bring her down then," Friday said impatiently.

"First the finders fee!" The one of the left demanded.

Time to play hardball, "When I see her and that she's unharmed!"

The one on the right nodded, opened the door behind him and disappeared into the building.

Friday decided to at least show some good faith, opened her purse and pulled out two 500 dollar bills. The goon on the left eyed the money and relaxed a little.

A minute or so later the door opened and out walked the other goon, with a petite brunette over his shoulder. She'd obviously been drugged, Friday pointed towards her car and the girl was thrown into the front seat.

Friday walked over to her car and checked the girl over, the face certainly matched that of Susan's and apart from being unconscious she looked fine. After fastening her seatbelt she rummaged inside her purse and took out 5000 dollars in cash and handed it to one of the goons, "Nice doing business," she said in her most professional manner.

Satisfied the money was all there, the two men walked away, presumably to their own car.

Friday reached down under her seat and pulled out the Skopion and tucked it bedside her seat where she could easily reach it. After making sure the coast was clear she started her car and headed towards Serebryany Bor, night was drawing in and she still had an hours drive ahead of her. She had just got on to the M5 when Susan started to stir. She pulled off the freeway and into a tree lined Side Street.

She saw Susan's eyes start to flicker open as consciousness returned, "Susan," she said softly.

"My head," Susan put a well manicured hand to her head, closed her eyes and apparently fell asleep once more.

"It’s ok. It’s just a side effect of the chloroform," Friday gently shook Susan awake.

"Where am I?" Susan asked sleepily. Friday waited a few more moments before replying. Susan's drowsiness would soon wear off.

A minute or so later Susan was nearly fully recovered, "Susan, my name is Friday. I work for the same people you do," Friday explained.

Susan blearily looked at Friday, "I don't know you!" an element of fear crept into her voice.

Friday nodded, "I know. There's been a change of plan. We're on our way to Alexi's compound."

Susan blinked a few times, and rubbed her eyes, "So what's the new plan?"

Friday explained. She knew what Susan must be feeling, "The same as it was, except I take you inside rather than the other guy that was arranged. I have some business with Alexi, which I'm not authorized to say at this time."

"How do I know who you really work for?" Susan asked, there was still an element of suspicion in her voice.

Friday suddenly remembered she'd not yet identified herself to Susan "

'The rock cried out no hiding place'," Friday stated.

Susan nodded and smiled, "Good to know I'm in safe hands. How much further?"

"About another 40 minutes. Did they treat you ok?" Friday asked, referring to Susan's 'captivity'.

Susan nodded, "Yeah I'm fine. The worst bit was just now. I guess we'd better get going."

Friday nodded and started the car.

--- oo ---

It was nearly dark by the time Friday drew up the gates where Alexi was. Heavily re-enforced and guarded by at least 20 men it would take some serious firepower to break in. She took the Skorpion from the side of the seat and placed it on her lap, her left hand on the trigger and it pointing at Susan. This had to look convincing.

A small, wiry man in combat fatigues walked up to the car, and although he wasn't obviously armed the six other guards were. The man said something in Russian, which she didn't understand. So she replied in German, hoping the man would then revert to English.

"Identification!" The man demanded in guttural German.

Still aiming the Skopion at Susan, Friday's other hand passed her passport to the man, "Katharina Weber, Here to deliver a present for Alexi," Friday gestured to Susan who was doing her best to look terrified.

"Wait!" the man demanded, called another similarly dressed guard over and whispered in his ear. The other guard then pulled out a small radio and spoke for a few more seconds.

The butterflies returned to Fridays Stomach. This was it! There was no way she should take all of them on at once, so she had to do things by guile.

What seemed like an eternity later, the other guard nodded and gestured to the one nearest to her. She was in!

The wiry guy opened the rear door of Friday's car and sat down. She felt a dull pressure to the back of her head. Should anything go wrong she would be dead, a headshot would be enough to kill her and at this range no amount of armor she could grow would be able to stop the bullet, "Drive where I say" the man ordered, again in rough badly spoken German.

Friday started the car, waited for the gates to slowly slide open, and drove up the path towards Alexi's compound.

Thru the twilight she could see figures moving among the trees, although the occasional bark of a dog alerted her to them more often than she could see them. She'd just turned a bend in the road when she caught a glimpse of two T-72's guarding another set of gates. What concerned her most was that these tanks hadn't shown up on the satellite photos, and if they could miss something as obvious as that what else had they got wrong!

She passed the T-72's without incident, but did notice that the engines were running. Were they expecting trouble? She drew up outside the gates and a tall guard, in full body armor approached the car, saw the guard sitting behind her and just waved them on.

Again Friday had to wait for the gates to open and then drove carefully into a large compound surrounded by razor wire. The main house was large, even larger than her parents old mansion was although this was on a single floor with a low sloping roof. To the left was a series of large garages and room for several cars to park. Parked in pride of place was what looked to be a black Mercedes limo. She heard her escort say "Park to the left and stay in the car."

Friday obeyed and parked up in a spare bay next to the Limo. Her escort got out and gestured for them to follow. Friday got out, still pointing the Skopion at Susan and gestured for her to get out also.

Susan said nothing but meekly obeyed, Friday had to give her full marks for her frightened captive act. Her escort demanded the Skorpion and in a way she was pleased to give it up, she hated guns and besides, she was more deadly without them.

"This way," her escort pointed towards a large set of double doors flanked on either side by more bodyguards.

They were escorted thru a long wooden floored hallway, with the occasional glitter of some gold plated Russian orthodox icon , or a marble bust of some Roman emperor. Compared to Hassan, the Guild leader she'd killed a few months ago the hall was sparsely decorated. Clearly Alexi came from the 'less is more' side of the interior decorating fence. After passing numerous rooms, they were shown a door on the right, and Friday opened it.

The room was huge, its light oak floor was polished to almost a mirror finish and the walls were oak lined with a light gray wallpaper. Clustered around a large oak fireplace were a series of antique sofa's and chairs, which were occupied by several large men. Each one was dressed in dark Armani suits, and what looked to be Gucci shoes. Clearly this was Alexi's inner circle.

A tall man, around 6'4 and build accordingly walked into the room thru the door at the other side of the room. The men on the sofa's and chairs stood to attention, as he walked past them. The man's short blonde hair was precisely cut, and his steel blue eyes bored themselves right into Friday's heart. Friday took a deep breath and gave a smile as Alexi walked closer to her and Susan.

"You must be Katharina?" Alexi's English was heavily accented. He took hold of Friday's hand and kissed it in chivalrous greeting.

Friday withdrew her hand. From her extensive dealings with the Guild she'd learned that to be too subservient was as dangerous as being too outspoken, maybe more so. A healthy respect was the key to survival. "Alexi Ivanov I presume."

Alexi took a step back and inspected Susan, who was trying to avoid his gaze. "Not bad," he commented as he studied the curve of her ass, "But I'm tried of brunettes,"

Before Friday could react he pulled out a silenced pistol and fired. Susan's head jerked back as the bullet smashed into her skull and exploded out the other side.

Susan crumpled to the ground, with most of the back of her head missing and gurgling thick red blood.

Inwardly Friday swore, what a waste of life! "Hey. I've just lost 5 grand," she protested.

Alexi studied Susan's fallen body, "I suppose I'll have to have that polished out!" he clicked his fingers and two of the men walked over, picked Susan's body up and carried it out of the room.

"What about my 5 grand!" Friday protested.

Alexi turned to face her and pointed the gun at her head, "As I said I'm tired of Brunettes. I haven't had a red head in quite a while.."

Friday glanced around, maybe she could move faster than Alexi could pull the trigger, but then she would have his entire small army onto her. There was only one thing for it, plan B. She still held firm, "What about my 5 grand?" she demanded.

Alexi gave a deep laugh, "I like you, you have guts. You'll get your 5 grand once I get my red head," his tone of voice and body language left Friday in no doubt he meant her.

"The price has just gone up to 10 thousand," Friday said and turned to walk out.

A small section of wall just to the left of her head exploded as she heard the ppphhtt of the silenced pistol. "10 it is!" Alexi gave another laugh.

As Friday had calculated, Alexi preferred women who were not afraid of him. It gave him greater satisfaction when he finally broke them. "Where?" She asked.

Still smiling Alexi said, "In my room upstairs, you'll be taken up there where I expect you to wear the 'decorations' I have prepared for you."

Friday smiled inwardly, Alexi had given way more than maybe he intended. Her and Susan were different sizes and to have prepared something for her would mean that she, not Susan was the target all along. But how did Alexi know she was coming? Probably from the protracted escort up the driveway, or even from the goons she'd met at the apartments, and possibly she'd been tracked from the airport itself. What ever method it was, she wouldn't underestimate him again.

She felt a gun in her back, obviously Alexi wouldn't take no for an answer. She was escorted up a flight of marble and wood stairs and after being groped for hidden weapons told to go into the room.

She noticed the guard's shadow block the light under the door as she closed it. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the semi darkness of the room, but she could make out the shape of an emperor sized bed in the middle of the room. Sitting on the bed was a full set of black lacy lingerie, complete with garters and teddy. Friday sighed, men had so little imagination. Maybe not, under the teddy she spotted a leg spreader bar and handcuffs. That figured!

She had no intention of putting them on, and instead waited, just behind the door for Alexi. From the top of her hand grew two hollow talons that projected an inch above the knuckle. She heard the heavy footsteps on the stairway. Alexi was coming, she readied herself as the door opened and Alexi walked in, "Katharina," he called and closed the door.

Before he could react Friday rammed the larger talon into his neck, and without a sound he collapsed onto the floor. She directed the blood sample into her changeling organ where in a matter of moments she would be able to copy Alexi's body right down to the genetic level. It took much of her considerable strength to lift the unconscious gangster on the bed, he must weigh over 250lbs. As quickly as she could she stripped Alexi naked, and couldn't help but admire how well toned his body was. He obviously took a lot of pride and trouble of it. She put his clothes into a pile on the floor, separating out the silenced pistol he'd just shot Susan with. She checked his pockets and found a wallet containing several thousand dollars in cash, his Russian ID card and an American express centurion card.

Friday then stabbed Alexi in the neck with her second talon and started to strip herself. As she was taking off her pants she glanced sideways, Alexi's transformation into a copy of her was progressing nicely. Already his legs had thinned out and were becoming more shapely. She had considered keeping Alexi conscious during this part, but the risk of him alerting someone was too great.

By now her changeling organ had analyzed Alexi's blood and she able to use his DNA. She closed her eyes and felt her flesh reform and grow. Full body changes always left her feeling a little disorientated so it took 30 seconds or so for her to open her eyes. She flexed her now muscular hands and started to put Alexi's clothes back on. By now Alexi's transformation was all but complete, his short blonde hair was rapidly turning copperish red and growing accordingly.

"You said you liked redhead's," Friday smiled as she started to put the garters onto the now female Alexi's legs.

Within a few minutes Friday had put the lingerie on Alexi and secured the spreader bar on his legs and handcuffed his hands to the bed. She then proceeded to bounce up and down on the bed, making a variety of orgasmic sounds for the next ten minutes or so. She then got off the bed and picked up Alexi's silenced pistol, "This is for Susan you bastard!" she swore and fired two shots, one to his head and another in his chest. Alexi's body twitched and then was still

She waited a further five minutes before ensuring that she had dressed the same way Alexi had and opening the door. The guard was still at the door, "Go clear that away," Friday said in the same heavily accented voice Alexi had.

The guard nodded and went inside.

The swap now complete, all she had to do was find Dr Abramovich. Bluff her way past a small army and make her way to the US embassy..

--- oo ---

She walked downstairs as casually as her still unfamiliar body would allow. Alexi's personal guard didn't even double take her as she walked to the sofa nearest the fire. The nearest guard said something in Russian and laughed. Friday held up her hand as if to say 'enough' "English please, you need the practice!" she said with a smile.

The guard laughed, "What was she like Alexi. How'd she compare to the last one?"

Friday shrugged and gave a so-so gesture, "She was ok. Now tell me, how is our good doctor Abramovich getting on?"

"He's nearly packed, we got a good price for his services no?" the guard to her right said.

Friday smiled, he must still be on site, "It was a good price. I've had my pleasure, now for some business. I would like to see how Dr Abramovich is getting on?"

"Now?" the guard to the right asked.

Friday nodded, "Da!" and beckoned to the Guard to lead on.

Friday strode outside in the chill night air, by now the massive floodlights had been switched on making the pitch black almost daylight. She couldn't help but give a smile, all this elaborate security had been useless against her changeling abilities. Unknown to them their leader was dead and she had taken his place. Small wonder the Guild had been able to infiltrate the inner circles of world leaders with such ease. With everyone believing that all the changelings were dead no installation was really safe anymore. Guards on patrol snapped to attention as she walked past and she nodded in greeting to each one.

She was taken to the large building she'd spotted on the satellite photo. It looked much larger in real life. Her escort knocked on the door a few times and then using his key unlocked the door, "Wait here!" Friday ordered in heavily accented English and opened the door.

Doctor Abramovich was huddled over an electron microscope as she walked in. Clearly Alexi had been meaning to do more with Abramovich than just sell his services on. She recognized a whole bank of state of the art gene sequencers, impressive! It was nowhere near what she had, had at Tgen but then nobody ever had. "Doctor Abramovich," Friday said in the same commanding tone she'd heard Alexi use.

Dr Abramovich looked up from his electron microscope. Friday noted that the years had not been kind to him, since they'd last met at a convention some 8 years ago. Sure he'd dyed his hair, but the slight wrinkles in his face had widened and spread out.

Dr Abramovich spat something in Russian, he was obviously irritated at the interruption.

"Now, now doctor. English please. I need the practice," Friday stated coldly.

"You made me ruin this whole sample," Dr Abramovich stated angrily.

Friday glanced at the electron microscope's monitor. It was some kind of bacteria. She then remembered how Hassan had tried to deal with her and who she was supposed to be, "Never forget who you are dealing with doctor. It's time for you to go."

"Go? Go where?" Dr Abramovich.

"With me," Friday stated.

"And If I refuse?" Dr Abramovich asked.

"Then I take you anyway," Friday said menacingly. From what she remembered Dr Abramovich didn't seem the sort of person to put up much of a fight.

"Will I be coming back?" he asked. Friday took this to mean 'are you going to kill me?'

"No, but you will be safe. We need to hurry, and take the changeling organ sample with you," Friday decided to soften her approach.

Dr Abramovich gave Friday a puzzled look, "It's not here. You were trying to secure it from the Americans or did you forget?"

Friday tried hard not to swear, she was too early! Never mind at least she had a lead on it. From the Americans he'd said! The last thing she was told was that the sample she'd obtained for them had been incinerated and destroyed. Fuck! The sample she'd given to the President was much more complete than the ones sent abroad. It would take a lot of work, but it could theoretically be used to produce a working version.

"Of course," she said, "come quickly," Friday pulled out Alexi's silenced pistol and waved it at Dr Abramovich.

"Don’t I get time to pack?" Dr Abramovich complained.

"Just move," Friday ordered and aimed the gun directly at Dr Abramovich's head.

On walking outside the guard was still waiting for Friday to emerge, "Get me the keys to my Mercedes," Friday ordered and walked Dr Abramovich over to the black Mercedes limo.

About 30 seconds later, the guard came running over and handed Friday the keys, "We're going for a little drive," Friday said to the guard with a knowing look. Friday pressed the remote and gestured for Dr Abramovich to get inside the drivers seat.

Friday got in the other side and training her gun on him, said "Drive to the main gates."

Gingerly Dr Abramovich set off down the road, clearly he wasn't used to the car and was extremely nervous. Friday was tempted to let him in on her little scheme but she needed a natural reaction from him, at least until they were outside the compound. They stopped at the first set of gates and Friday ordered Dr Abramovich to let the windows down. On seeing Friday's new face the guards just waved them on. There was a similar check at the main gates, this time a guard actually took the time to make sure it really was Alexi in the passenger seat. But after a few seconds the gates were retracted and they were out.

"Where now?" Dr Abramovich asked worriedly.

"The American Embassy," Friday replied.

"Pardon?"

"Just drive!" Friday snapped.

They carved their way thru the thick Moscow traffic, Friday kept checking the rear view mirrors to see if they were being followed but there was no sign of pursuit. To the rest of Alexi's gang he was out teaching Dr Abramovich a lesson and would be back soon. "Why are we going to the American Embassy? What about my family?" Dr Abramovich asked on several occasions.

Friday thought it best to remain silent and make the point that she was still in charge by re-aiming the pistol every so often. Fifty minutes later they were at the gates of the US Embassy. "Wait here!" Friday ordered and wound down the window as the Embassy soldier walked over.

"My name is Friday, I have someone who our government would like to meet. The validation phrase is 'the rock cried out no hiding place."

The soldier's thick southern accent drawled, "Wait here sir!"

"Friday?" Dr Abramovich queried.

"It's long story which you'll never know. Just let's say you're better off here than where you were originally going."

"I don't understand?"

The soldier walked over to the car once more, "You're clear come on in. Welcome to the USA."

Friday nodded in thanks and waited until the gates opened and drove into the extensive Embassy complex. She was immediately relieved of her pistol and shown to an ornately decorated side room. Dr Abramovich was taken, under armed escort to a separate room and presumably debriefed ready for his enforced defection to the US.

An hour later a suited embassy official knocked at the door and offered Friday a phone, "For you sir!"

Friday took the phone, made sure the secure option was on and said, "Hello."

"Friday is that you?" It was Heinlein.

"At the moment yes, Dr Abramovich is here." Friday stated. She would change back as soon as she could. She hated being male.

"So I heard. How'd we do?" Heinlein asked.

"Susan didn't make it. Alexi wasn't after her, he was after me. He used her to ensure he could get to me," Friday said angrily. Such a waste of life.

"How do you mean after you?" Heinlein sounded concerned.

"Not after me as Friday, but after who I was supposed to be, Katharina Weber. He shot her just like that. I'm sorry there was nothing I could do," Friday swallowed back a tear.

"I see. What about the other objective?" Heinlein asked.

"It wasn't there. They hadn't managed to secure it. Look I don't want to talk about it, even over a secure line. But this is bigger and messier than we all thought," Friday explained.

It went quiet for a few moments and Friday wasn't sure that was a good or a bad thing. She suspected Heinlein was consulting some other party, maybe Steve or maybe his superior. "This is most disturbing. Still, in denying this third party the use of Dr Abramovich we have bought some time. Report to me in Washington as soon as you get back."

"Aye sir," Friday had expected to be on the receiving end of blast from Heinlein and in some ways this was worse. Professionalism couldn't completely mask the disappointment in his voice, "There's one more thing?"

"Yes, what is it?" Heinlein asked.

"According to the Russian Mafia Katharina Weber is dead. I rendered Alexi unconscious, turned him into a copy of Katharina and then shot him. There was no other way to perform the switch and get close to Dr Abramovich. Alexi's gang think I'm off torturing him or something, but I've got no way of getting back on a commercial flight as I've no passport and only the clothes I'm wearing.."

"I see. I'll send an emergency ID thru tonight and arrange for you to sleep at the embassy I take it you didn't lose all the money I gave you?" Friday could almost hear Heinlein's smug smile on the end of the phone.

"Not at all and thanks," Friday replied.

"See you in Washington," Heinlein stated and hung up.

--- oo ---

Heinlein was as good as his word. When Friday awoke the next morning a new passport and a single British Airways ticket to Washington was waiting for her. The face on her new passport was nearly identical to her own, except for longer black hair and brown eyes. She would have to be careful when and where she changed. If she changed here then it would arouse suspicion amongst the embassy staff, change too late and Alexi's enemies would see an easy target.

Using the phone in her room she called a cab to take her back to the airport, ignored the requests for breakfast and waited in her room until the cab arrived.

She knew the cab ride would be the most dangerous part of the trip, so she instructed the cab driver to take her to the nearest set of apartments; they were only a short distance away so although seeming a pointless expense it wouldn't be as risky as changing at the airport.

The cab driver dropped her off just outside the concrete apartments and she paid the cab driver a handsome tip and got out. She'd spotted the ideal place to change, a small alleyway, overgrown with trees and not overlooked by many of the apartments. She ran to into the alley and was about to instigate the change when she heard a 'click' and a voice call something out in Russian. The only words she understood was that of her covers name, 'Alexi Ivanov'

She put up her hands and turned to face the voice. Three men dressed in dark suits and each holding a silenced SR-2 machine pistol stood at the end of the alleyway. How in hell had they followed her? She needed to buy a few seconds while she prepared for the inevitable.

"Who's this Alexi Ivanov?" Friday shouted out in her best American accent. Hopefully that would provide the distraction she needed.

The three men looked confused for a second, which was all Friday needed to treble the depth of bone in her skull and grow armor all over her chest and back. At the last moment she allowed the jacket she was wearing to slip to the ground, she would need it clean to cover up any blood on her shirt.

"Don't waste your breath, you made it too easy for us to follow you and I don't see your bodyguards," the one in the middle taunted in English.

This was going to get messy very quickly, "Look I don't know what you're on about. If It's money you want.." Friday called out.

Friday heard a voice from behind her call something out, she was surrounded and bottled in! She noticed the three guys in front tense up a little, they were getting ready to fire!

The changes to her body were nearly complete. Although it wouldn't stop a bullet at close range, her now thickened skull would stop a glancing blow and her armored chest would ensure that the majority of bullets would be stopped before they drew too much blood, or did too much damage.

She caught the guy on the left glancing behind her, thus helping her pinpoint the one at the rear's location. Time to end this, "My name is not Alexi Ivanov. It is Friday and I'm the last living thing you will ever, ever see."

No sooner was the last syllable from her mouth than the two men at the front opened fire with their SR-2's the silencer making sinister wheezes as it spat bullets at her, but Friday was ready for them and leapt into the air, turning her arms into vicious scythe shapes serrated blades as she did so. The guy behind was slower to react and had no time to bring his gun up to follow her movements.

Friday landed and immediately dived to one side as bullets chewed up the pavement where she had been moments before. Using the full power in her legs she leapt up at the guy at the rear and before he could react rammed her blade arm into his chest. The man scream died in his throat as still impaled on Friday's blade arm she turned his still twitching body around to face the three remaining assailants. The body jerked as bullets struck it, and Friday withdrew her blade from the man's chest and the man's body dropped to the floor like a stone.

Now in full flow Friday could almost see the bullets coming at her as she dived and swerved closer to the three men. She felt four or five bullets strike her chest but shrugged them off as though they were mere insect bites. The eyes of the men in front of her were wide in terror and one of them turned to run.

The hail of bullets stopped, they needed to change magazines. Seeing her chance to finish this Friday ran between the two men who where frantically trying to reload. At full speed she ran between them, and in one open and closed scissor movement decapitated them. The two headless men dropped to the ground, blood pouring from their open necks. There was no time to survey the damage, the runner was almost out on the main street. From her left blade arm she grew a neurotoxin dart thrower and sprinted after him.

To his credit the man almost made it, in one last desperate lunge Friday jumped at the man and fired her dart. It struck the man in the neck and instantly he went down.

The situation over with Friday turned her blade arms back into the hairy muscular arms and hands she'd had before and surveyed the carnage around her.

She walked to the guy she'd shot in the neck and retrieved the poison dart from his neck. She didn't need to check if he was dead or not. Poison Arrow frog venom is always fatal. The other three men were equally dead, she had decapitated the two in front of her with so much power she could only find the one head, its lifeless eyes still bulging in horror. Picking it up by the now bloodied hair she placed it on the chest of it's now dead owner. By now the alleyway was running red with blood and gore, she would need to find a puddle or a tap in order to wash it off herself before going on to the airport. She walked over to the last guy, her blade arm had ripped a three inch wide hole in his chest, exposing his ribcage and lungs. Definitely a fatal wound.

Her body armor had done its job well. No bullets had managed to punch thru it, and apart from small tears in her shirt there was no sign she'd been shot several times. If she did her dark jacket up one wouldn't notice at all. Her hands and arms however were a different matter, covered in blood and the remains of internal organs they would need to be thoroughly cleaned and the shirt would have been ruined. She couldn't keep her jacket done up for long periods so she would need to go and buy a new shirt.

She heard a wail of sirens coming closer, obviously all the gunfire had attracted attention.

She looked quickly around and found a small puddle of water under one of the trees, she scrubbed the blood off her hands as best she could, changed her face to match that on the passport, absorbed the armor she'd grown and sprinted out of the alleyway before the police arrived.

She managed to hail another cab which took her to the airport just in time for the check in.

She'd managed to find a clothes store in the main airport terminal and was soon the proud owner of a new unknown brand of white shirt, A Nike branded bag, and a female Friday sized set of clothes for her to change into when she finally landed. She also took the opportunity to duck into the bathrooms in order to fully clean the remains of the blood from her hands and arms and dispose of the soiled shirt she was wearing.

The adrenalin didn't stop flowing until she'd checked in and was sitting in the departure lounge waiting for her flight to board. Inwardly she hated herself for killing those four men in such brutal fashion, but they'd left her no choice. They were obviously from some rival gang or Faction send to kill Alexi should he ever make the mistake of appearing unguarded.

She wondered what the Russian police would make of the crime scene, no doubt it would make some newspapers the following day; however, what she did know is that no one could connect her to the massacre, and although the blood on the shirt she'd just thrown in the trash would match those of the men she'd killed she would be long gone by the time the test results would be in and collated.

Her main concern was the rogue changeling organ in America. In spite of the grave warnings of both the Fury Directive and that of recent events, people were still determined to obtain it for their own ends. Regardless of her playing down of Dr Abramovich's abilities he was still the one most likely to crack how it worked. No doubt a few others could do so given a few years, but by then the changeling organ would gave decayed beyond use. She wondered if she should have killed Dr Abramovich instead of letting him go free, but he was an innocent trapped in the world of the guilty and her conscience would not allow her to kill anymore innocents. The last thing she needed was more victims screaming her name in her dreams.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her flight being called, within an hour or so she would be on the way home.

--- oo ---

It was early in the morning when Friday finally landed in Washington and hired a cab to take her home. Heinlein would wait. It was nearly 4am by the time the cab dropped her off home, she lifted the flower pot next to the door, took the key and let herself in.

During her absence another large pile of letters had been carefully stacked by her bedroom door. No doubt Steve had been collecting them for her. As quietly as she could manage she crept into her room and turned on the lights. On her bed was a large bouquet of flowers, she lifted them up and smelt their sweet aroma. After the horror of the past few days they were a welcome reminder that beauty did still exist and somehow it made her feel so much better.

She looked at the inscription on the card, "Get well soon Ms Carrell," it was signed from her 12th grade class. Feelings of welcome normality flooded over her, and she put the flowers into the nearby sink and ran some water.

She put her Nike bag on the table and stripped off Alexi's Ivanov's clothes. She hated being a man, all craggy and clumsy. She closed her eyes and concentrated, relishing the feelings of her flesh reforming her into femininity once more. Seconds later she'd finished the transformation into her Friday Carrell body. She lifted her pillow, found her silk pajamas and relishing the silky touch against her now smooth skin got into bed.

Seconds later she was fast asleep.

10. Debrief
---------------

She allowed Steve to think she was still asleep as she heard him creep into her room. "Hey no sleeping on duty!" he called out. Friday decided against anymore stupid games. The sooner she was debriefed the better.

She opened her eyes and gave a small yawn, "I was already awake, wassap!"

"You ok? I heard you creep in last night but thought you'd need the rest. I must admit it's been quiet without you," Steve commented.

"Ahh you missed me!" Friday joked. Thing is, she thought did he miss me a little too much? Did she him?

"Loads, The cover story of you going away to convalesce for a few days worked well. Heinlein told me you'd got Dr Abramovich out, nice work. Get some clothes and your ID we have to leave in 20 minutes.

Friday nodded, no time for a shower though. "Ok. Now leave my room please!"

Steve smiled, it was good to have her back safe and sound.

Seventeen minutes later Friday walked out of her room and into the living room, she'd decided to put on the new outfit she'd bought in Russia. Steve was just finishing a glass of OJ, "New outfit?" he observed.

Friday was pleased, most men wouldn't have noticed, "You know how it is for us spies, take on the Russian Mafia, do a little shopping and all before breakfast."

"Come on, time to go. I'll buy you breakfast on the way there."

Compared to Moscow the Washington traffic was almost civilized, millions of people trying to get from A to B so that they would have time to go to C. In its own way Friday thought DC was as bleak as Moscow. Sure there were no concrete monstrosities, but the sameness was there. She was also sure that her views would not be popular should she ever voice them, but they were hers to have. Heinlein had arranged to meet at one of the CIA's front companies across town. He preferred to keep things on the QT and strolling into Langley wasn't exactly quiet.

They reached the small office block half an hour later, parked up in the underground parking lot and went inside.

Heinlein was already waiting for them in his now traditional curtained office. He glanced up as Friday and Steve walked in," Friday, Steve good to see you, take a seat," he gestured to the chairs in front of him.

Friday sat down and waited for Heinlein to speak.

She didn't have to wait long, "Friday, good job on Dr Abramovich's rescue. He's now on his way to a secure location where we can debrief him before we get his family over to him."

"Thank you sir, "Friday replied.

"So what was so important that you couldn't tell us over a secure line?" Heinlein asked impatiently.

"As you know the changeling organ I was supposed to get hadn't been secured yet. Dr Abramovich mentioned that it was being bought over from America! How can that be? We destroyed all our samples and made damn sure the others we sent out couldn't be used to recreate a working C.O. So where in hell was Alexi going to get one from?"

Heinlein thought for a few moments, "This is a concerning development. Why didn't you go back, as Alexi and find out more on this?"

Friday had expected that question, "Because I had no chance of passing as Alexi for more than a few hours at most. I couldn't keep speaking English or German to his inner circle, plus you'd given me no intel as to their names or backgrounds. The best bet was to get Dr Abramovich back here and work from there. I do know that it's not yet left the country so wherever it is, is must be here."

Friday saw Heinlein's brow furrow for a while, he was obviously considering the available options. "Friday, nobody knows more about this than you. What are your thoughts?"

"After I’d finished with the Genetic modification systems and putting people back to how they should be the whole installation was destroyed. We were the last few people out and witnessed the explosions first hand. As far as I can remember the C.O we had taken out from the Guild changeling was still in there. I'd used it only a few hours before as a basis for one of the ways around the genetic 'fixers' that locked people into the bodies there were in. It helped me formulate the key to unlock their genetic structure so I could then alter it back to what it should be. So, I know it was the genuine thing," Friday explained. She still remembered the emotional relief she felt when the last traces of the evil she had wrought went up in flames. Of seeing the joy on Matthew and Kat's faces as the years of pain she had inflicted on them melted away.

Heinlein gave Friday a puzzled look, "So, the question remains. Where could this unknown party get a changeling organ from? If it were to come from say, China or one of the other countries then why fly it here first? It's much easier to get stuff into Russia from China than it is here.

Friday felt all color drain from her face, as waves of dread washed over her, "I know where they got it from," she said solemnly.

"Where?"

"Me," Friday replied softly.

"What?!" Exclaimed Steve.

"Explain," Heinlein demanded. Friday noticed his eyes narrowing, they always did that when he was annoyed.

"Well not me directly, from my body double we created to pass an autopsy and investigation into my 'suicide' That body needed to be identical to my own. What if someone intercepted the remains and stole the C.O. I bet they just put all the organs back inside the body and sewed it up before it was buried." Friday hoped to God she was wrong. Whoever had done it would have a nearly operational changeling organ which was identical to her own. All it would need is careful storage and implantation. In spite of her best efforts Pandora's box was still wide open. The nightmare was not over, and unless it was stopped Tel-Aviv would not be the end.

"You ok?" Steve asked, noticing Friday's gaunt look.

"Steve, you have no idea what this thing could do. Theoretically once it was implanted and working, it could be used to grow more changelings, and so on and so on. My DNA modification system was easy to spot. It was large and required lots of power. The C.O is in effect an organic version of it, only more versatile. Every changeling created is an invisible bioweapon of horrific power. You want an Ebola epidemic? Easy just get the Changeling to manufacture some and release it, How about being able to recreate smallpox at will. Hell, it took me less than two hours to infiltrate and take out one of the most heavily guarded men in Russia," Friday paused as horrific possibilities crashed thru her brain.

She continued, "If we can’t stop a single determined suicide bomber what chance have we of stopping a changeling that knows the full potential he or she has? In case it hasn't sunk in. I can create anything that exists or has the potential to exist in nature. airborne AIDS, assassins that are able to take out anyone at will. You've seen what I can do, and I'm only starting to learn my full capabilities."

Heinlein glanced downwards, reached inside his briefcase and tossed a Russian newspaper in front of Friday, "Such as this?"

Friday couldn't read the words of the paper but recognized the alleyway in which she'd taken out those 4 gunmen. She went on the defensive, "What's this to do with the changeling organ?"

Heinlein looked at her from across the table, "Your actions continue to cause us massive concern. Normally you are compassionate, intelligent and respectful of life. Then, whenever you are threatened you switch into someone so utterly lethal that it defies imagination. You don't know the meaning of the words restraint, or minimum force. We managed to obtain the photo's the Russian police took of the crime scene. It was like an abattoir, blood and gore everywhere. The stunt you pulled putting the guys severed head on his chest was especially cute. Our main concern is that your emotional stability is not as stable as you claim it to be."

"Wait a minute! I passed my psyc eval and continue to do so every month!," Friday protested. Heinlein's observation had struck her as though he'd slapped her round the face.

Heinlein shrugged and simply replied, "Just a thought! Now," He decided to change the subject. No doubt it would come up again, "back to more pressing matters. Did you see anything that could give us a clue as to where and when this changeling organ would arrive?"

Friday thought for a few moments, "There seemed to be some heavy duty sequencing equipment there. I didn't get time to investigate too much, but from what I saw, Dr Abramovich wasn't working on anything new. It seemed to be a continuation of what he was already doing. What has his said about this so far?"

Steve replied, fascinated. "Not much. He like you has only just arrived. Why do you think he wasn't doing anything new?"

"For a start the electron microscope showed some kind of bacteria. It wasn't anything recognizable like Ebola or a form of Bacillus Anthracis if I would hazard a guess it looked a little like a variation of pneumonia. Secondly, He also complained at me for ruining his sample. You don't create bacterial samples within only a few days of being kidnapped."

Heinlein thought for a few moments, "Could this bacteria you saw be some new kind of Bioweapon?"

Friday thought for a moment, she'd only seen it for a fleeting few seconds, "It's possible. You can in theory turn any bacteria into a weapon, but you usually need a base on which to work. I'm told the most common to use are Ebola and Anthrax, which I said above this wasn't. Pneumonia is ok to use too, but it's not as infectious and can usually be stopped by various cocktails of anti-biotics. If you want my guess I think Dr Abramovich was trying to use bacteria as a carrier for gene therapy. From the papers he published a few years ago, he was talking along those same lines. Then Tgen came along and made the whole thing moot."

Heinlein, looked puzzled, "Explain?"

Friday inwardly smiled. It felt good to know more about something than Heinlein, "Dr Abramovich postulated, back in 1995 I think that you could use Bacteria to replace a faulty gene. It would work by killing the 'faulty' cell and allowing the body to grow a new one with the repaired gene inserted in. It's a lot more complex than that of course, and I won't bore you with details, but personally I thought it would never work. Anyway after the work we did at Tgen, and I subsequently did on my own the whole idea of Gene therapy using bacteria became as obsolete as the horse and cart."

Heinlein nodded, and sat back on his chair, "So what would the Russian Mafia want with someone who's research was proven to be out dated and why would he need a changeling organ?"

"Without talking to him I wouldn't know," Friday replied. Heinlein was asking all the right questions, but she had no real answers.

Heinlein had reached the same conclusion, "Ok, I'll pass this info onto our analysts. If we need you to speak to Dr Abramovich we'll let you know. In the meantime you still have 2 days of vacation left. I suggest you use them."

"So that's it? You shut me out. You know I'm in the best place to find out what Abramovich was up to?" Typical!

"Are you trained in interrogation techniques? Do you know the procedure for dealing with witnesses such that any evidence they bring would be allowable in court? Look I know you're used to acting alone and doing things your own way. But this is the real world now, and you are part of a much larger organization in which people who are pretty much the best in the world at what they do. Let them do their jobs, and if we need you we'll ask."

Friday sighed, he had a point, "Vacation?"

Heinlein gave a wry smile, "Yeah, Steve told the school you needed an extra week off to fully recover. So you've still got 2 days left. I suggest you go somewhere and relax. You'll need it."

"What no more training or even working at a desk?" This was important dammit!

"No, you know full well that you're not officially on the payroll. How can you do deskwork for us, when you're not even supposed to exist? Yes I know you can become anyone at will, but even then the security risk is too high. I realize this is important to you and that once your curiosity has been aroused then you find it hard to leave it alone. In this case you are going to have to."

Friday nodded, "Understood. Is that all?"

Heinlein nodded, "For the moment. Take this cell phone with you and sign for a car if you need one," Heinlein reached into the briefcase and slid out a Nokia 7250, "Just call your home if you need Steve. Otherwise wait for us to call you. Steve will see you back on Sunday."

Friday stood up to leave, "Not coming with me Steve?" she asked. Actually she was surprised she'd been let off the leash for so long without someone being her minder; especially after Heinlein's comments about her. Maybe it was another test. Knowing Heinlein it probably was.

Steve shook his head, "Not this time, go and enjoy yourself."

"Cya," Friday quipped and left the room.

She caught the elevator to the basement and after showing her ID to a uniformed security officer was given the keys to a new bright blue Corvette convertible. "You sure this is my car?" she asked the security guard.

The guard checked his clip pad, "Yes. Someone called Steve Grayson has signed it off for a Ms Friday Carrell to use. Since that's you, it's your car."

Friday handed the keys back to the guard, "I won't need it just now, thanks," She already knew where she was going to go and she couldn't get there by car in two days. She would finish off what she had started to do before Heinlein had called her away on a pointless errand.

Taking the cell phone from her pocket she dialed a cab and an hour later was back home once more. Once inside the house she quickly stuffed some clothes in the bag she'd acquired in Russia, wrote Steve a note telling him to pick the car up from the airport. The last thing she did before reaching the airport was to remove the battery from the cell phone, just to make sure they couldn't trace it.

She was lucky, in that there was a cancellation on the next internal flight to New York so she only had to wait an hour before her flight left. It seemed as though all she did nowadays was spend time on flights from one place to another and yet no where could she call any of those places really home. That was what this trip was all about, home.

11. Home.
-------------

She parked her rental car in her usual spot, just near the cemetery and decided to walk the rest of the way. It had seemed years since she'd last been in New York, but in reality it had been what, less than a month! As usual the streets were packed with people going about their own business as if nothing had changed. Lost in her own world she kept walking until she stood at the cemetery gates as she'd done a few weeks ago.

Carefully she unlatched the gates and walked inside. Unlike the last time she was here the weather had stayed fine, but she could feel the crisp breeze starting to bite as the summer drew to a close. She glanced around, she was the only person there. Just as she wanted it.

She worked her way past gravestone after gravestone until she came to a newly dug grave. The earth on top had yet to settle properly and she could see the headstone had barely had time to get dirty. To her surprise someone had placed a set of fresh lilies by the grave. She pulled the stems apart to see who had placed them there.

Tears immediately formed in her eyes as she read the Card.

"To absent friends, forever with us and never forgotten

Matthew, Jane(Kat) and Elizabeth Cathline Stephens."

Fresh tears rolled down her cheek. They'd decided to keep the baby and name it after her! A mother it would never see, or even know. Waves of sorrow and loss crashed over her, how could she miss something, someone she had never met? Of all the penalties she had paid and would pay, the giving away of her daughter was the one that hurt, that ached the most. She felt as though her heart had been slashed in two. Why had she come back?

Thru tear blurred eyes she read the Gravestone, 'Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley. 1969-2001' was engraved in gold lettering. She cast a glance at the two headstones next door 'Margaret and Dr William Bexley'.

"This is why I came back" she said to herself. This place, this small cemetery in the middle of New York was where her heart was, like some restless spirit it was forever bound to this place. No matter who she was she would always exist here. Trapped and alone.

Carefully she took the card from the lilies and put it in her purse. Turning to her parents graves she started to talk, softly so as not to be overheard.

"Mom, Dad. It's been too long," Her voice tailed off a fresh tears rolled down her face, wiping them away with her hand she started again, "Mom, Dad. I'm sorry. I miss you," More tears flowed, freer this time and so much that she could no longer voice the words.

She tried again, "Mom Dad, I wish you were here. For the first time I don't know what to do. Everywhere I turn is pain and loss. I feel dead inside. Like some kind of ghost. Mom, Dad I'm so sorry. I miss you," she wiped away more tears and part of her wanted to leave, to avoid having to say what remained of her heart was crying out to say.

"The world thinks they buried me next to you. Now that I'm here I can't help but think they were right. How can someone exist with no heart? How can someone still live with the voices of a million screams in their mind? Mom, Dad am I still your daughter? Or something else. That's what I really feel like, a Wraith, a being without soul or spirit, just an echo of a once living thing."

She paused to wipe her eyes clear of tears, "Did I do the right thing by leaving them, by making them think I took my own life? What choice did I have? To stay would have reminded them of the anguish I caused them and remind me of what I could never have. Why do I have to keep looking at the past? Why is it that no matter what I try I always seem to end up here? Every time I come here it's to say goodbye, and yet it never is."

In the corner of her eye she saw someone walk in, she had to leave before she was spotted, "Mom, Dad I need to leave. Somewhere out there lies a way out from what I've become. I just need to look harder, otherwise I'll still be a revenant spirit, wandering among the living with no hope of release or redemption."

Friday took one last look at the graves and sprinted out of the cemetery and back to the car. She quickly opened the door and sat in the drivers seat, making sure the car was locked she pulled the card from her pocket and placing it on the dash so she could read it, she turned the CD on.

	"I've been looking in the mirror for so long. 
        That I've come to believe my soul's on the other side. 
        Oh the little pieces falling, shatter. 
        Shards of me, 
        To sharp to put back together. 
        To small to matter, 
        But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces. 
        If I try to touch her, 
        And I bleed, 
        I bleed, 
        And I breathe, 
        I breathe no more. 
 
        Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirit's well. 
        Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child. 
        Lie to me, 
        Convince me that I've been sick forever. 
        And all of this, 
        Will make sense when I get better. 
        I know the difference, 
        Between myself and my reflection. 
        I just can't help but to wonder, 
        Which of us do you love. 
        So I bleed, 
        I bleed, 
        And I breathe, 
        I breathe now... 
        Bleed, 
        I bleed, 
        And I breathe, 
        I breathe, 
        I breathe- 
        I breathe no more."

There was a knock on the window, "You ok Miss?" Friday glanced up thru tearful eyes and saw the shape of a police officer. He'd obviously seen her crying in the car and had come over to investigate.

Friday nodded, and wound the window down, "Thanks officer. I'll be ok."

"Can I see your license miss?" the cop asked.

"Sure," Friday opened the glove box and pulled out her purse, it took her a few moments to find it, "Here you go officer."

The cop glanced at the license and then at her, "I knew you looked familiar. You're that teacher who rescued those kids," he exclaimed.

Here we go, Friday thought, "That's me. Is everything ok officer, as I have a long drive ahead of me."

The cop nodded, "For what's its worth, you did the right thing. Drive carefully."

"Thanks," Friday wound the window back up and started the car. She still had two other places she needed to see.

It took her over an hour to get out of New York and onto the interstate. Once out of the city the traffic was comparatively light, but the weather had closed in and she was now driving in heavy drizzle. Somehow it seemed to match how she felt, neither one thing or the other, just here.

She got to the place sooner than she expected, to anyone else it was just another section of road. But to her its significance could not be overstated. She parked the car by the side of the road and got out. She climbed a little way up a grassy bank to where a tree stump was. It had been splintered and snapped where the main body of the tree had fallen.

From here she could see the new section of crash barrier that had replaced one that had been broken by the impact of a car, and then down into the ravine where the car had plunged, killing its two occupants instantly. Her parents.

As she climbed back down the bank the memories of her finding out about their deaths came flooding back. She'd been living life as someone else, Rachel Martin, ultra model when she'd heard it on the TV news. In her minds eyes she traced the line the tree that had fallen on the road would have taken, and then onto the path her parent's car would have swerved to avoid the falling tree.

The tears came afresh as she walked to the crash barrier and looked down into the grassy slopes of the ravine. Only a small gap in the trees showed where her parent's car had crashed through after rolling several times. This is where they had died, the moment she was left alone, an orphan. She walked back to the car and retrieved a small bouquet of white roses, she bought from a truckstop a few miles back. Walking back to the newly repaired barrier, she threw the flowers into the ravine and tearfully turned away.

By now the light was going rapidly as night started to fall. She had two choices, press on or find a motel and stay overnight.

12. Home Insurance
--------------------------

For small town after small town she drove, ignoring the truck stops and motels on the way. She was focused on her destination, and nothing else mattered. She forced herself to stay awake, even though her body screamed out for rest. The drizzle had now turned into driving rain, and the wipers were struggling to cope with the sheer amount of water being thrown at the screen. The light from her headlights was equally ineffective so there was no choice but to find a place to park up for the night.

Pulling off the main interstate she found a small lay by in which to stop, she had no idea where it was just that it seemed a reasonably safe place to park. The sound of the rain on the roof of the car only got worse, validating her decision to stop. She turned off the engine and was plunged into darkness. Reclining her seat right back she lay down and tried to sleep.

Just as she was about to drop off a thought crossed her mind. What was it Heinlein had said? 'However of greater concern is that fact that you don’t yet know the full range of your abilities, your attitude seems to change from compliance to petulant defiance on a whim, and most of all your records show that you never do anything unless it serves your needs or accomplishes what you want it to'.

Clearly she was still a subject of huge debate within the government. Still working along that train of thought she recalled other things he'd said to her ' "Any normal agent no we wouldn’t bother. But then you’re no ordinary agent are you? We don’t tend to hire mass murderers and a walking weapon of mass destruction.'

There it was again, the fear of what she could do and who she was. "What else was it he said," she mulled out loud, ' You were granted a conditional pardon. Break that and the gloves are off. Make no mistake, no matter who you turn yourself into we will track you down, and even if it takes a cruise missile strike you will be killed!'

The threat was clear, break the rules and we'll kill you. But Heinlein was only talking about her quitting and running away. Or was he? There must have been a shift in attitudes towards her, as just yesterday Heinlein had said, 'Your actions continue to cause us massive concern. Normally you are compassionate, intelligent and respectful of life. Then, whenever you are threatened you switch into someone so utterly lethal that it defies imagination'.

Heinlein's observation was worryingly accurate. When she or people she cared about were threatened then it was like she was someone else. A killing machine of, as Heinlein had called her utter lethality. She could see why the agency would be worried about her. She gave a frank assessment of herself, highly intelligent, resourceful, and with a history of mental instability, combined with her changeling abilities could make her a huge risk to national security and the general population. This was backed up by Heinlein's comment to her 'Our main concern is that your emotional stability is not as stable as you claim it to be.'

Did he have a point though? She no longer felt consumed by hatred and revenge. The 'Lizzy' persona that had taken over her mind for so long was no longer there, kept at bay by her Stelazine and her own self control. But, had she swapped one evil for another? Or had her psychosis switched to feeding from hatred to that of feeding from violence and death? Was 'Lizzy' still there but lurking in the shadows of her mind, only able to reveal herself thru violence and death?

That last thought troubled her the most. Had she been fooling herself that she in fact was cured? She knew she didn't feel the same as before but was that enough evidence? All her psych evaluations showed clear so was it just her feelings of guilt and loss talking?

So if she were in Heinlein's place what would she do about this. The answer came as fast as she asked the question. He would have a backup plan in case she went rogue. From what he'd implied this backup plan would be her assassination. Either by a heavy caliber bullet to the head, or by something like a car bomb. The various intelligence agencies had used similar methods to take down the Guild changelings so it would seem logical that they would use the same for her.

But who would decide to pull the trigger? Steve? Heinlein or someone higher up and what would the criteria be? When she was no longer useful to them? When she overstepped the mark? Or even if she was regarded as no longer emotionally stable?

Whoever it was and whatever the criteria she had to stop this backup plan from even being an option. It wasn't down to them how she lived or died it would be down to her. The first stage in her regaining control would be to take the decision of her life or death away from them.

She had the glimmer of idea and the more she thought about it, the more it appealed. She'd need to buy a few things on the way to her destination, but that was fine. As she settled back into her seat she smiled as she imagined how fucked off Heinlein would be with her. She lay quietly listening to the sound of the rain on the roof, after the day's emotional stress and tears it was strangely comforting.

She woke up with the dawn light, starting to stream thru the car. She ached all over and reminded herself that sleeping in cars was bad for the back. She checked the clock in the car 6:30am. She had another couple of hours drive ahead of her which would mean she would at the mall in time to do some shopping.

An hour later she'd stopped off at a small roadside truckstop and ignoring the lecherous looks from the truckers had eaten a small breakfast and several glasses of OJ. It had seemed ages since she'd eaten and she had fought off the urge to really stuff herself full. She'd need every cent she had for her shopping trip.

An hour later she pulled off the interstate and into what used to be her local shopping mall. A few of the shops had changed hands and names but the look was the same, a mix of late 80's styling and tinted glass combined with fake polished floors, fountains and plastic plants.

The National Bank of America was still in its old place so she dutifully queued up at the ATM and took out pretty much all the money she had, some 2000 dollars. Stuffing the money in her purse she headed towards the nearest Sears and eventually found the electronics department.

She didn't care what camcorder she used as long as it was cheap and it worked. She browsed the store for a while until she spotted a basic model JVC for only $500. She also picked up a the cheapest VCR she could find, a portable CD player, a small tripod, an 8mm video cassette and 3 normal VHS ones. She was just about to leave when she spotted a cyber cafe where a jewelers used to be, perfect.

Ignoring the geeks who were eying her up as she walked into the cyber café she paid her 5 bucks for an hours use and sat down at a vacant workstation well away from any prying eyes. Once she was sure she couldn't be overlooked she started to type in notepad. She also signed up for some free webspace and made a mental note of the URL.

When she was done she printed a single copy of the document and once she was sure it had printed ok exited notepad without saving, thus ensuring there would be no trace of the document she'd just written, after 'accidentally' switching off the machine she folded up the printout and put it in her purse.

A quick perusal of the map of the mall showed her that, as she hoped the pet store was still there. It took her a few minutes to walk to the other side of the mall and find the 'pets R us' store and a further ten minutes to select an appropriate albino rat in which to buy. Tucking the box under her arm and ignoring the scrabbling sounds coming from inside she walked back to the car, pausing only to buy today's copy of USA Today.

She put her purchases in the trunk of the car, except the rat which she stored under the passenger seat, the clock on the car said 10am and it was a 30 minute trip to her parent's house.

What surprised her most as she drew up to her parents house was how well kept it was. She guessed Matthew and Kat were still paying for its upkeep. The reason why they hadn't sold it was obvious. It would attract a certain amount of ghoulish attention, confirmed by the flowers both wilted and new that had been placed outside the gates. Selling it to some of those freaks who had started to say she was some kind of saint would be in very bad taste. Kat was always sensible like that, how she missed them!

She looked around, the road was deserted and since her parents house stood alone no one was likely to see her sneak in. After collecting her shopping, she walked around white painted fence, hopefully the loose panels she'd used to use to sneak in and out when she was a child hadn't been fixed.

There they were, just opposite the old apple tree. She gave the fence panels a tug, sure enough they were still loose. Turning her attention back to the apple tree she saw that the 'E.B 4 M.S' carvings she'd made in the trunk were still visible.

She traced their outline with her finger, Matthew and she had felt so rebellious carving their initials in the tree and then hiding behind it for some passionate kissing and making out.

Before she went inside she needed to take a few precautions, putting her shopping down she concentrated hard and closed her eyes as she felt the changes sweep over her. It felt strange to be back in her original body, some two inches taller than 'Friday' was, her clothes didn't really fit right but that was unimportant as she couldn't ever use this form again, at least in public. She pushed the fence again and ducked under the loose panels.

She crept up to the house and stopped at the third paving stone from the back door. She lifted it up, ensuring that she disturbed the earth as little as possible. Underneath the paving stone was a dirt covered key , she'd used to keep a copy there in her late teens in case she was ever locked out. After she took the key and replaced the paving stone she walked up to the door and let herself in.

The house was exactly as she'd left it since she'd last visited a couple of months ago. Matthew and Kat had given it to her as a gift after they had inherited it as part of a damages settlement from her. She'd only been back a few times, each time bought back memories stacked on memories that were too painful to face. This visit was different. She was here to find out how much of her heart and her soul remained, was she just a wraith like creature or was there some hope, some route of escape left open to her?

She walked thru the ornate living room. Pictures of her and her family were still in the same places as before, fighting back the tears she picked up a photo of her graduation day at Harvard. Her dad was so proud of her. Sometimes a photographic memory was a curse. She could remember every word of his conversation, every face and every feeling. It was then he'd offered her a job at his hospital not because of who she was, but because she had earned it. Healing and helping people was all she had ever wanted to do. How had to come top be that her very name was synonymous with the very opposite of what she had worked her whole life to be?

Still blinking back the tears she put the photograph back on the shelf. Flashes of memories flickered thru her mind, of family Christmas's, dinner parties and a thousand other little things that competed for her attention, and every single one bought home her feelings of solitude and sorrow.

Clutching her shopping, she walked up to her room, put the shopping on the bed and unpacked the VCR, CD player and camcorder.

She attached the tripod to the camcorder and plugged it in so the lens was facing the bed. The CD player came with batteries so after fitting them, she placed it on her old desk, "That sure got some use," she mused out loud as she remembered night after night of meticulous and fervent study. She inserted a CD and pressed play.

        I'm so tired of being here 
        Suppressed by all my childish fears 
        And if you have to leave 
        I wish that you would just leave 
        'Cause your presence still lingers here 
        And it won't leave me alone 
 
        These wounds won't seem to heal 
        This pain is just too real 
        There's just too much that time cannot erase

        When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears 
        When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears 
        I held your hand through all of these years 
        But you still have 
        All of me

Just how many tears had she cried into her pillow following Matthew's rejection of her? No matter how much she tried to let her grief pour out more seemed to remain. The first night was the worst, wracked with rejection and hurt she'd clutched those very pillows on her bed and sobbed into them until it felt as thought she had nothing left to pour out.

It was on this bed that her mom and dad had tried desperately to comfort her, to show her that her life was not over and that the pain would go away. It didn't!

        "You used to captivate me 
        By your resonating life 
        Now I'm bound by the life you left behind 
        Your face it haunts 
        My once pleasant dreams 
        Your voice it chased away 
        All the sanity in me 
 
        These wounds won't seem to heal 
        This pain is just too real 
        There's just too much that time cannot erase" 

As she listened to the haunting lyrics she reflected that the pain of losing Matthew had gone, but been replaced by something even more agonizing. Instead of having a broken heart, she felt as though she had a broken soul. That the malaise of guilt, loss and loneliness had infected the very core of who she was. She would give anything for her Father to walk thru the door right now and give his 'pumpkin' a hug, tell her it would be ok and that things would work out in the end.

        When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears 
        When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears 
        I held your hand through all of these years 
        But you still have 
        All of me 
 
        I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone 
        But though you're still with me 
        I've been alone all along." 

She fought back more tears, she had to be strong. What she had planned wouldn't work unless she was calm and collected. But in spite of herself the feelings came crashing back. It was on this bed that her alternate personality, 'Lizzy' came to her in a dream demanding that she must choose between revenge and forgiveness. She glanced around her bedroom, still showing many of the posters and trophies she'd obtained over the years she spent here. It all looked so normal, so pure and yet every part of it was stained with the blood of the innocent. It was here on this bed she started off on the road that had led her to here. Would she ever be free of it?

        "When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears 
        When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears 
        I held your hand through all of these years 
        But you still have 
        All of me." 

The end of the song bought her back from her memories. She still had work to do, and not much time to achieve it. She plugged the VCR into another power socket and ensuring that the rat was still secure in its box walked out of the room and into the bathroom next door.

It was so strange looking at her old face in the mirror, blue gray eyes framed by long tumbling auburn hair. A reasonable nose, not overlarge but certainly not button like and a smattering of small freckles to give her face a 'little girl' look. Instinctively her full lips had gone into that pout she used to do when thinking. Did her mind remember so much about being in this body that even the little nuances had come back?

She stared into the mirror again, it was such an innocent face and yet one that now carried an image that would forever be a stain on history. Like that of Rasputin, Stalin or Hitler this face would join the pantheon of killers. There was, she thought only one chance for this face, that of her cloned daughter now growing inside Kat's womb. Her daughter, who she now knew was going to be called Elizabeth Stephens, would have this face in some twenty five years time and it was on Elizabeth Stephens, that her redemption, epitaph and 'exorcism' relied. Elizabeth Stephens, the only bright star in her pitch black night!

She found a comb, where she'd left one only 3 months ago and did her best to straighten her hair out. Matthew had never managed it in the 5 years he'd had this face and even for her it could be an uphill task sometimes. No doubt by the time her daughter grew up then bad hair days would be a thing of the past.

She'd debated putting some makeup on, but the trouble with that was that when she changed back into 'Friday' then the blusher would be in all the wrong places and besides the changing process always caused some perspiration especially when reducing in size as the energy had to go somewhere.

Now feeling and looking much better, she ensured the tape was in the camcorder and everything was to hand. She sat down on the bed, picked up the camcorder's remote and pressed record.

"Hello. I'm sure by now this face needs no introduction," Friday gestured to her face, "But for the record my name is Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley. I was born in 1969 to Margaret and Dr William Bexley. What I've done after that is so well known I won't bother mentioning it," Friday paused and showed the USA Today to the Camcorder.

"As you can see, the date on this USA today is well beyond that when I was supposed to have committed suicide, Yesterday, the Nasdaq was down 15.2 points and your pensions are now worth zip. Anyway, as of today I'm very much alive and well. Some of you might think that this is a fraud, some actress made up to look like me, so to scotch that accusation I've prepared a couple of demonstrations,"

Friday held up her left hand, "One of the features of my changeling organ is that I can inject another man or animal with the same drug that allows me to change form. In other words I can turn anyone or anything into anyone or anything else. Observe," Friday concentrated hard feeling the needle like tube grow from her left hand.

With her right hand she opened the box and caught the rat in the middle. She then lifted the struggling rat so that it was in full view of the camcorder and in one movement injected it with the needle like tube. The rat twitched for a few moments and then was still.

The first thing to change was the rat's fur. It went from a white to a orangey brown. In a single fluid movement of flesh the Rat's face shifted and within moments was that of a small ginger kitten. The Rat's body seemed to bulge and grow and ginger fur sprung up on its thin hairless tail and seconds later a small ginger kitten woke up and looked around in great confusion.

Holding the kitten in clear view of the camera, Friday went on to explain, "Of course as of today no GCI or special effects could reproduce what you've just seen effectively. One of the other things this changeling organ allows me to do is to administer lethal poisons into the bloodstream. Still clutching the kitten tightly she grew another spine out of her left hand and gently pushed it into the purring kitten. The kitten twitched a few times and then was still, "Note that the kitten is now quite dead, " placing the dead kitten back into the box she paused for a second or so. Inwardly she gave a smile, 'that'll piss off the animal rights people.'

"Just in case you may still not believe I am who I say I am, then maybe this face is more familiar," she closed her eyes and concentrated hard. Within a few moments the unearthly beautiful face of Rachel Martin was looking back at the camera, "Or indeed this one." Again she felt flesh reform and grow as her new face took shape. She was now wearing the face of President Roberts, "Or maybe even this one?" Again she concentrated and let the changes wash over her. Now back in her Elizabeth Bexley face she continued, "So why am I doing all this?"

"The answer is easy and yet terrifying. The reason why I am alive is because President Roberts and his administration cut a deal with me. In return for a pardon for what I had done I would have to work for the CIA for a period of 15 years. To find out more, look for references to a codename of 'Friday', Friday Carrell or Lieutenant Friday Carrell of the US Air Force."

"Flying in the face of the fury directive the US Government has me, it's own 'pet' changeling to use in operations that threaten US interests. Future administrations will no doubt be aware of my existence and should they keep the secret then they are equally in violation of the Fury Directive as the current one," Friday paused. That should stir up a hornets nest.

Just to be sure she continued, "To clarify. This current administration and the others following it knowingly concealed the fact that they used a changeling, I.e Me in actions against other countries and other organizations. Why do I tell you this?"

"Because this same administration and others following it have a policy that should I cease to become useful or for some reason don't fit into their pattern of behavior they will have me assassinated. To some of you that may seem a good thing, but I will not allow it to happen. This recording is, shall we say my insurance."

"Before I go, I just want to say how much I deeply regret the things I did and caused to happen. I'm not asking for sympathy or forgiveness only that you understand that I tried and continue to try to somehow to atone for my past actions. Hopefully history will remember me as someone who made a terrible mistake, but ended up saving the lives of millions of others. But as they say, you cannot hope to make history, only survive it.

Thanks for taking the time to listen to me. Goodbye," Friday clicked stop on the camcorder remote and walking over to the camcorder, quickly replayed the message. Excellent! Should that ever reach the likes of CNN it could easily bring down a government or at worst subject the US to crippling sanctions from the UN. No administration would dare to kill her off as long as she had this hanging over them!

She quickly connected the VCR to the camera and made three copies onto VHS tape, one for a decoy, one for Heinlein and one for real.

She decided to leave the VCR where it was, but take the camcorder with her. It didn't take up much space and she'd use it later no doubt. She opened the window and tossed the dead kitten out of it and at last collecting the last of her things and taking a last look around she left her room. Walking thru the living room once more she achingly wanted to take a few photos with her but common sense prevailed. Closing the backdoor behind her she dug a small hole in the soil and placed the decoy video cassette and the key under the paving stone and left via the hole in the fence.

Once back to the car she quickly changed body into her Friday one, started the car and drove off back to New York.

After taking a long and random route, she'd decided to stop off at the fifth town she came to and drove around looking for a law practice. The random route was essential, it meant no one would be able to draw a straight line from her parent's house and New York and find her little 'hidey hole'. Eventually she found a small practice called 'Williams and Bryant' that judging by the sign outside had been established since 1928. She parked up outside, making sure her stuff was all out of sight and collected a plastic bag which had her video tapes inside.

Before she went into the lawyers she walked to the stationers she'd spotted a few stores down. After purchasing several padded envelopes and a marker pen she walked back to the lawyers and went inside. As soon as she opened the door she knew she'd found the right place. It was obviously a small law practice, but affluent enough to afford some new PC's and printers.

The elderly receptionist was on the phone, so she waited patiently until the call ended, "Can I help you miss?" the receptionist asked.

"Yes hello, my name is Friday Carrell and I'd like to speak to one of the senior partners," Friday explained with a dazzling smile.

"Let me see when they are free," The receptionist opened up an old battered appointments book, "Yes here it is, Mr. Williams is free a week on Tuesday!"

Friday's heart sank, she needed to see him now, "All I need is 10 minutes of his time," she pulled a 100 dollar bill from her purse, "I'll make it worth his while."

The receptionist glanced at the 100 dollar note, "I'll see what I can do."

She picked the phone up and dialed an internal extension, "Hello Mr. Bryant. Alice here. I've got a Miss Carrell to see you right away."

Friday couldn't hear what was said on the phone, but guessed as Alice replied, "No Mr. Bryant she's not got an appointment, but only wants 10 minutes of your time."

Alice gave Friday a look that said, 'don't worry he'll come around' A few nods later Alice put the phone down and said, "Second door on the left, he'll see you now."

Friday gave Alice another smile, "Thank you so much," and walked off to the door.

"Come in," the voice replied as she knocked a few times on Mr. Bryant's door. She twisted the worn brass handle and went in.

Mr. Bryant was a slim man, and judging by the thinning gray hair, probably in his late 50's. His brown eyes glanced up her thru wire framed glasses, "Miss Carrell I presume, please take a seat," he gestured to a leather chair opposite his desk.

Friday sat down, flicked her copper hair out the way of her face and waited for Mr. Bryant to speak.

"So, Miss Carrell what can Williams and Bryant do for you?" his voice had an educated and smooth tone to it, he was obviously using is 'in court' voice.

Friday reached inside her pocket and gave Mr. Bryant the print out she'd done that morning. She saw his eyes flick across the page and raise an eyebrow in surprise.

"This is a little unusual," he commented.

"But doable?" she queried.

"Before I answer that let me just check that I've got your requirements correct," His question was no doubt designed to obtain the reasons why she was requesting what she was.

"Go on," Friday said, giving nothing away.

"You want William and Bryant to store two videocassettes. one in 8mm format, the other in VHS format?"

Friday nodded, "Yup."

"And then every month check the website contained in this letter for a 20 letter password," Mr. Bryant continued on.

Friday again confirmed the question.

"Should the password not match the one stated on in this list," he gestured with the printout," and in the order stated in such list then you want us to hand deliver one tape to CNN and the other to NBC News and ensure it's looked at immediately in each case."

Friday nodded, "That's correct. There are 24 passwords on the list one for two years. Every third year you are to take odd numbered passwords and every fourth, even numbers. It's all in the letter. I expressly forbid anyone to open the envelopes, any attempt to do so they should be delivered to NBC and CNN immediately."

Mr. Bryant put his hands together and thought for a few moments. "Understood. I hope there is nothing illegal in these tapes?"

"Not at all, just information I want to be stored until I want it to be released. How much for 15 years worth of storage and checking of the list each month? You store documents for people of a matter of course I'm sure."

Mr. Bryant thought for a while, "1200 dollars a year."

That was just the way she wanted it," Done," She reached into her purse and handed 1200 dollars to Mr. Bryant," Can I use your stapler and some sticking tape?"

"Sure," Mr. Bryant said and opened his desk drawer and passed the items to Friday.

In full view of Mr. Bryant Friday inserted the video cassettes into the padded envelopes and sealed them with stables and with tape. She signed over the tape with a Biro and passed them to Mr. Bryant to do the same.

"Ms Carrell, if you'll accompany me to our fireproof safe you can ensure they are placed inside," Mr. Bryant stood up and gestured for Friday to follow him.

They walked along the length of the office and turned down another small corridor. Mr. Bryant took a key from around his neck and opened the wood paneled door. Once inside the room, Mr. Bryant moved a fake Monet to one side to reveal a safe. Out of Friday's field of vision he dialed the combination and opened the safe door, "Could you pass me the items please?" he asked.

Friday passed the padded envelopes to Mr. Bryant and watched him place the items in the safe. Satisfied they were in there she nodded her agreement and Mr. Bryant shut the safe door and flicked the dial round to ensure it was locked.

"Thanks, the website is already set to the first password." Friday said cordially. Her insurance now in place she could relax a little.

Mr. Bryant nodded to show he understood, "Nice doing business with you, " he replied extending his hand.

Friday returned the handshake, "See you in a year," she replied.

Mr. Bryant escorted Friday to the main entrance and within a matter of minutes Friday was back in her car and heading back to New York.

--- oo ---

It was nearly midnight when Friday arrived back home. She'd checked her cell phone on landing and found to her relief that there were no messages, whatever had been going on during her 'road trip' she didn't need to know. A quick survey of the house told her that Steve was away somewhere so she took the opportunity to have a late night swim.

As she lay drifting under the water, her gills supplementing the oxygen in her lungs she reflected back on her trip to memories past. Somehow pouring herself out in the way she'd done had helped clarify her thoughts and feelings. Maybe she should give up trying to feel, shut out any emotion at all and become numb to the world. The thing is, without feelings then there would be no route for compassion to show itself and without compassion what hope was there for recompense and redemption?

Maybe the answer lay in throwing her all into her current role with the CIA. But, what room for compassion was there in there? If only they'd let her practice medicine again. Then she'd have a route where she could at least demonstrate that she still cared deeply about the value of a single life.

Using her changeling organ she could fashion cures for most illnesses and injuries. The rapid recovery of Detective Tina Cox whose life she'd saved after she'd been shot protecting the President from a Guild changeling had proven the technique would work. Although Tina's spine had been shattered, the last she'd heard was that it was slowly healing and she'd walk again within a year. She made a note to ask Heinlein again after this current situation was resolved.

Sure, she enjoyed teaching and in spite of herself she found herself quite liking most of the kids, although she expected a degree of hero worship from them on her return to work. It was 3am when she finally felt tired enough to go to bed, Steve still wasn't back so she suspected he'd make his own way there.

--- oo ---

When she arrived at the office building she was directed to a new office on the fifth floor. As directed by the receptionist, she got out of the elevator and turned left past the fire escape and knocked on the frosted glass door. "Enter," she heard Steve call. So he'd got there before her. She opened the door and walked in. Again the office was heavily curtained off and Friday noticed a VCR player and projector on the table. Clearly they'd made some progress.

"Morning Friday," Heinlein said in his usual crisp business like manner.

"Morning sirs," Friday replied, mimicking Heinlein's professional stance. She had been looking forward to this meeting since she got up. Heinlein was going to have an apoplectic fit and he'd even bought a VCR ready!

"Take a seat, We've got a lot to go thru," Heinlein gestured to an empty chair next to Steve.

Friday nodded, sat down and swiveled the chair to face Heinlein.

Steve turned to face Friday, the stubble on his face and dark rings around his eyes indicated to Friday that he'd been up all night, "Dr Abramovich has been very cooperative as you'd expect. He confirmed he was working on Bacteria that would form the basis for a new strand of Gene Therapy and that it was indeed a harmless variation of Pneumonia he was using as the basis for it. Good guess."

Friday nodded, "Thanks. What about the changeling organ are we any closer to finding it?"

Heinlein nodded, "We sent a couple of FBI agents to interview a Dr Meir, who performed the autopsy on your body double."

"And what did Dr Meir say?" Friday asked.

"He told us all the internal organs were taken away by government agents under personal direction of President Roberts. Apparently the President dropped in personally to give his condolences on your 'suicide' to Matthew and Jane Stephens. He then went to see Dr Meir to ensure the changeling organ was handed over," Heinlein explained.

"So where did it go?" Friday asked. It was very unusual, maybe unprecedented for a President to personally intervene. Actually it suited her 'insurance' just fine as this information would prove President's Roberts complicity in her fake suicide.

"We're still trying to find out. But we've found a more likely candidate. Steve, if you please."

Steve turned to Friday and said, "We did a search of the surveillance video archives of the installation you used to recreate a working DNA system in a few months ago. The one you mentioned the last time we spoke. We routinely monitor buildings remotely, so that if anything happens to the building in question we've got an off site secure copy of what went on. This is the recording of the last hour or so."

Steve turned the projector on and waited for it to warm up. He then pressed play on the VCR.

The screen on the wall behind Steve lit up and showed the inside of the Lab Friday had been working in.

"I hate seeing myself on camera," Friday commented dryly.

"As you can see you've just taken a section of the Changeling organ and placed it in the sequencer attached to the DNA modification system. I think this is just before you restored Jane Stephens," Steve commentated.

Friday nodded, "Yes it was. Kat, Sorry Jane Stephens had suffered a lot of damage from cancer due to some instability from the drug I'd previously used on her. I needed the changeling organ to help her body repair some of the damage. Without it she would've died on the operating table."

"Were you tempted to let her? That would then leave Matthew, the love of your life free to get back with you!" Heinlein interrupted.

Friday shot him a vicious look, "Never!" Bastard!

"Just asking.." Heinlein queried. Clearly he was trying to provoke her.

"Ok, back to the tape," Steve un-paused the video, "This is the interesting bit, watch."

Friday looked at the screen and saw a balding man in a lab coat stroll casually up to the shelf in which the jar containing the changeling organ sat. He then reached inside his lab coat and pulled out an identical looking jar and quickly switched it, putting the original back in their pocket. The man looked vaguely familiar.

"Fuck!" Friday swore. She'd been so involved with curing Kat that she hadn't noticed anything. Everyone else was keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't pull any stunts and not on what anyone else was doing! "So who is that and how come they managed to smuggle it out past a whole platoon of marines?"

"The thief's name is Michael Alexander. As you know we don't have many world experts on DNA systems in the government so we bought in people from outside. Michael was bought in from..," Steve started to say.

Friday's heart sank, "TGen."

Steve nodded, "Yeah I thought you might know him."

Friday nodded, "Not personally, only by name and staff photo, he was in one of the other research teams I managed. TGen transferred a whole load of people to their Seattle R&D site after I destroyed the one I was in charge of in an attempt to kill Matthew, Jane and Cathline. It figures TGen would do this; they would be desperate to try and regain market share after I wrecked 90% of their revenue stream. A changeling organ would give them a major leap ahead."

"That's what we thought. As for sneaking stuff past, he probably bought the decoy in under the pretence that you'd asked for it. He could then take the original out under the excuse that he'd bought it in with him. What do you know about their Seattle operation?"

"A fair amount, bearing in mind it's nearly eight years out of date. I know the site was smaller than ours," Friday replied. What she was going to be asked to do was glaringly obvious.

"It's grown a lot since you were there," Steve commented.

"And you want me to sneak in and get the changeling organ off of them," Friday asked.

Steve shook his head, "No it's too big and we've not much time for one person to go rooting around. We've got a warrant to search the place and we've got inspectors on the way. We want you to oversee the search and make sure they really do find it. Naturally you won't want to go as yourself, and there'll be no need to take any kind of weapons other than side arms. You'll join the team this evening and go in first thing tomorrow. Your role is just to make sure we get it back, you're not to go it alone. Report to special Agent Wachoski on your arrival at TGen."

Friday nodded, "Understood. Anything else?" she said expectantly.

Steve glanced at Heinlein as if say "you got anything?"

Heinlein interrupted, "Interestingly enough, but aside from this matter there's also this.," Heinlein fast forwarded the video to where he wanted it to be, "The video shows you implanting something in Jane Stephens. You go to the DNA system with a test tube, use the system for five minutes or so and then slip whatever it is in the anaesthetic you used. Now here's the bit that got us confused. You inject Jane in her womb. Of course we now know Jane Stephens is three months pregnant. The official line is that you implanted a clone of Matthew Stephens when he was still in your old body. I don't think you did!"

Shit! She thought she'd got away with it, "What do you think I did?" she asked casually.

"I think you cloned yourself, as you originally were and put the fertilized egg inside Jane Stephens. You then told her a lie to ensure she'd keep the baby, your daughter!"

Still poker faced Friday commented, "An interesting theory, but complete conjecture. If you'll show that clip to your 'experts' you'll see that at no time did I have chance to create a clone of myself. In any case what have Matthew and Kat have to do with anything?"

Heinlein replied, "We did ask our experts and they agree with you. My gut feeling says however that you pulled a fast one on them and that Jane Stephens is carrying your identical daughter. Of course it'll be years before we can really tell for sure."

"So what are you going to do about this 'gut feeling' of yours?" Friday asked in a dismissive way.

Heinlein stared at her, trying to work out if she was lying or telling the truth, "There's not much we can do, except prepare for such an eventuality. If it's true then I suspect her parents will need to make sure she's behaving and she'll need to be on Stelazine for life. I've passed this up the chain of command, so expect to hear more from us on that matter."

Friday inwardly smiled. With no evidence to say one way or the other they would have to wait until Elizabeth was at least five. By then it would be much too late do much about it, and the very most they could do would be to make Matthew and Kat report anything out of the ordinary in her behavior to them, "I'm sure I will. Personally I hope she'd not identical to me, and with Matthew and Kat as her parents I'm sure she'll be better!"

Heinlein thought for a few moments. He knew it was only gut feel and he had no solid proof, "We'll leave it at that for the moment… Steve got anything else?"

Steve shook his head, and looked at Friday, "You obviously have."

Friday smiled, she was going to enjoy this, "Yes I have. It occurred to me while I was away that you, meaning the CIA must have some kind of failsafe plan to deal with me should I no prove longer be useful or become a liability."

Heinlein did well to mask his surprise, "and?"

"Judging by what you've said earlier I suspect that plan is to kill me," Friday said in a matter of fact tone.

Friday could see Heinlein thinking, no doubt the choice he was making was whether to tell or not, "I'll let you into a secret. Do you know how close you came to being killed for what you are, for what you can do? The dangers you've outlined have all occurred to us, and the question that was asked, is still being asked is quite simple."

Friday inwardly flinched. She'd known that some considered her a danger, but not for certain that there were actual plans to kill her, "The question being. Am I more useful alive than the danger and risk I represent?"

Heinlein nodded, "It was direct intervention by the President that saved you. He was honor bound to keep his word, you have friends in high places."

"It seems so. That's why I've gone and got some life insurance," So there were plans in place and she was still alive only by executive order!

Heinlein's face hardened, "Oh," The toughness of his voice didn't hide a worried tone.

Friday reached down into her bag and pulled out a copy of the video tape she'd reserved for this occasion, "Put that in the VCR please Steve," she glanced across at Heinlein who's face had gone a paler shade.

Steve took the tape and after ejecting the surveillance footage inserted the Tape Friday had given him.

For her part, Friday watched Steve and Heinlein's face as her image appeared, larger than life on the projector screen, ""Hello. I'm sure by now this face needs no introduction," Friday gestured to her face, "But for the record my name is Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley. I was born in 1969 to Margaret and Dr William Bexley. What I've done after that is so well known I won't bother mentioning it,"

She could see the temples on Heinlein's face expand as his blood pressure increased and could almost feel his rage brewing inside him. Steve just said calmly with an amused look.

A few minutes later the tape finished "TURN THAT FUCKING TAPE OFF!" Heinlein shouted.

As calmly as she could Friday said, "As I said I needed some insurance."

"FUCK INSURANCE AND FUCK YOU!" Heinlein spat.

Suddenly nearly faster than she could dodge Heinlein had got out of his seat and leapt across to try and grab her neck, Friday shot back on her swivel chair just in time to avoid Heinlein's outstretched hands.

"Calm it down," Steve manhandled Heinlein back on his seat, "Friday, what's the meaning of this?" he said as calmly as he could muster.

Still out of Heinlein's reach. "The meaning is quite simple. In the event of my death a copy of this tape will be sent to the media and no doubt be shown on the national news,"

"FUCKING BITCH!" Heinlein swore again and had to be restrained by Steve once more.

Friday looked Heinlein directly in the eye, "Don't even try to find the tapes. You won't find them and the method I employ to demonstrate my mortal state is in here," Friday pointed to her head, "Don't even think about torturing it out of me. I can either turn off my pain receptors, or make myself immune to whatever drug you pump into me. "

"YOU, YOU," Heinlein started to say.

"Hell bitch? Bastard? All the above?" Friday finished off, "Like I said if I die then this gets shown to the media and I'm sure the UN would like to hear about it as well. I think it could well bring down the government. I guess history would call it 'Bexleygate'," Friday couldn't help but smile.

"So what if you are killed on a mission?" Steve asked.

"Tough. You better make sure any mission you send me on isn't going to be a suicide one," Friday replied in her best 'lecture tone'. She glanced across at Heinlein who was still red faced and simmering with anger.

"So, what do you want in return," Heinlein said thru gritted teeth.

"Nothing. Just the knowledge that I'm not going to be assassinated because of who I am will do just fine, as I said this is life insurance, not blackmail," Friday said magnanimously.

"Dismissed!" Heinlein hissed.

"Sorry?" Friday hadn't finished yet.

"Bexley, get the fuck out of here before I do something I might regret," Heinlein's voice had a vicious, menacing tone to it.

This was the first time Heinlein had used her real name, he was obviously seriously pissed at her. "Yes sir. By the way, keep the tape," she said and walked out of the room. Once outside and with the door closed, she punched the air in triumph. At last she had regained some control of her life.

--- oo ---

Friday was sitting on the sofa, reading today's newspaper when Steve arrived back home two hours later with a face as black as thunder. His first words on seeing her were, "You have no idea how fucked off Heinlein was!"

Friday shrugged, "So? Sooner or later he would have me killed. I wasn't keen on that idea so decided to do something about it. Are you pissed off at me?"

Steve sat down on the armchair facing her, "Me? Off the record I think it was a sassy move. Don't be surprised if Heinlein pulls out all the stops to try and find out where you've stashed it away. On the record, you are way out of line, which brings me to a change in your mission plan. You're not to oversee the search I am. You're still coming with us so we can be sure we get the right thing. But you're going to stay in the mobile HQ and wait till we've done."

Heinlein's response didn't surprise her at all. "I'm sure I'll find something to do."

Steve smiled, "You'd better get packed and changed. Your new ID is on the table. Our flight leaves in three hours. I need to go back to the office and pick up some more documents. I'll see you at the airport."

"Steve, promise me one thing?" Friday asked.

"Depends," Steve replied.

"I don't want a repeat of last time I flew with you. I can just about handle a Black Hawk crashing at 150ft , A 767 at 30,000 is lot more doubtful," Friday said dryly.

"I'll try to let the terrorists know not to shoot at us then. Look, I've got to go," Steve returned the grin and stood up to leave.

As soon as Steve had left the room Friday wandered over to the table to see who she was supposed to be for this mission. She was half expecting Heinlein to give her a really awful face or worse, even that of an old man but this FBI ID must have been prepared pre insurance speech or Heinlein had decided not to be petty and unprofessional. The face on the ID was fairly plain, female with blue eyes, small button nose and a slightly oriental face. Height 5'8 weight 92lb's name, Naomi Mena. Taking the ID in her hand she walked into her bedroom to change.

Five minutes later the new Naomi Mena walked out of the bedroom, holding a Nike sportsbag and she carefully let herself out and drove to the airport.

As usual, she cleared security without fuss, this was almost becoming routine. Sometimes she had mischievous thoughts about replying 'Yes' to the various questions airport security asked. Such as 'Did you leave your luggage unattended?' or her personal favorite 'Do you have any explosive in the bag?'

Casually she walked into the departure lounge and sat down on the plastic seats facing the runway. She sat there for nearly an hour, just watching the aircraft taxi and take off. Steve was right, Heinlein would do anything to get her video tapes and ensure that she couldn't damage the government. She gave him about three days to find her decoy ones. It was an interesting struggle for sure, like a game of chess and it would keep her amused for months.

"Naomi?" She felt a tap on the shoulder and glanced up to see Steve standing behind her.

"Hi Steve," Friday replied.

"Mind if I sit, We've still got 30 minutes before we leave?"

"Sure," Friday moved her bag from the seat next to her and continued to gaze out of the window.

Steve sat down and fished out a CD Walkman from his jacket pocket and put the small ear piece headphones in his ears.

Within a few moments the loud, 'Scshh Scshh Schh' from Steve's headphones was irritating Friday. She pulled out an earpiece from Steve's ear. "If you want to share your music with me why not let me listen properly?"

"You won't like it," Steve said cryptically.

Friday noticed the mischievous glint in his eye, she decided to play along "I like most music, why not?"

"Because it's about you," Steve put the earpiece back in his ear and started the song again.

Friday immediately snatched the ear piece off his ear, "Let's have a listen," she knew he was teasing her something rotten but strangely she didn't care. It just felt good to get some positive attention for a change.

"If you must. Don't take it to heart though," Steve smiled, and passed the CD Walkman to Friday who then cleaned the earpieces with a tissue and put them to her ear. She located the repeat play button and listened.

	"Well she tied me to the headboard with a surf leash 
      And her wet hair hugged her body like a long-lost friend
      And I really tried my best to get across to her 
      But nothing she would say could be defended 

      Well her birthday suit it was her only present 
      When I looked into her eyes - no history 
      And I told her eating people wasn't pleasant
      But she laughed a snake eye laugh and walked away from me

      And I watched her as she walked across the coals
      I watched her as she walked across the coals 

      Singing: I was born in nineteen sixty weird 
      And I'm your nightmare surfer babe 
      Mr. Wilson where's your sandbox and your beard 
      'You still looking for the perfect microwave?

      So I really did my best to get across to her 
      I said: "One day every pebble hits the beach" 
      And I kissed her face and held her like a long-lost friend 
      But she was too far out there to be reached 
      To be reached 
      She was too far out there

      She was singing: I was born in nineteen sixty weird
      I'm your nightmare surfer babe
      Mr. Wilson where's your sandbox and your beard 
      You still looking for the perfect microwave?

      And the sun came up over the mountain 
      And the waves rolled in across the bay 
      And the fabulous brightly-colored birds flew up out of the 
      forest
      And she said "Well we're all heaven's beautiful children living 
      together in paradise 
      Lie down my dear... you're going to enjoy this 

      And she looked like she'd had sex 
      With a Tyrannosaurus Rex

      Singing: I was born in nineteen sixty weird, old man 
      I'm your nightmare surfer babe
      Mr. Wilson where's your sandbox and your beard 
      'You still looking for that perfect microwave?
      Perfect microwave 

      And I watched her as she walked across the coals...

      And the sun came up over the mountain 
      And the waves rolled in across the bay 
      And the fabulous brightly-colored birds flew up out of the 
      forest
      And she said "Well we're all heaven's beautiful children living 
      together in paradise 
      Lie down my dear... you have enjoyed this." 

Friday couldn't help but laugh, "So that's what you think of me huh, Nightmare Surfer Babe. Well, I suppose it's a step up from hell bitch," she said with a smile.

Steve was grinning back, "It took me a while to find just the right song. But I figured you needed cheering up."

Friday nodded, still grinning. "That I did."

Steve checked his watch, "25 minutes. Mind if I get back to my music?"

"As long as none of it is about me. I'm going to get a paper," Friday stood up and walked to the newsstand. Nothing much stood out except Time magazine which was running an article on the aftermath of the Cairo Attack. Part of her wanted to ignore it, to shut out history another was curious to see what they said. Not wanting to open that particular can of worms she scanned along the stands for anything else to buy. The Headlines of the National Enquirer caught her eye, "Dr Bexley found alive and well!", She picked it up, paid and walked back to where Steve was still listening to music.

Apart from the usual alien abduction rubbish, which she'd come back to if she was really bored she headed straight towards the story.

Sure enough they'd used 'that' photo of her. The one making her look like the killer she felt she was. What else did it say?

'We have obtained new evidence that Dr Elizabeth Bexley is alive and well on a special NSA base on Pluto. Our resident spy reporter in Area 51 reported that someone looking like the evil Dr Bexley was seen entering the main gates of that secret base. He then climbed to a secret vantage point overlooking the base and watched. A few hours later a UFO landed, the entrance way slid down and Dr Bexley walked up into the main saucer section.

This confirms the many theories that Dr Bexley's real mission was to pave the way for invasion by shape shifting Aliens. Naturally the government has refused to comment.'

Friday stood up and walked to the trash can and tossed the paper in. For sure the story had been an amusing diversion but it told a more disturbing story. Even after stopping a war people still remembered the evil she'd done more than the good, typical! There was more news in dissecting the bad stuff rather than looking at the good. She'd nearly killed herself and had pushed herself physically and mentally to the limit to stop a war, save her friends and now risked her life almost daily to try and make amends. Yet all the public wanted to know was how their 'boogyman', nightmare surfer babe, or hell bitch was really still out to get them.

Lost in her thoughts, Steve had to tap her on the shoulder to tell her they were boarding now.

She and Steve had only exchanged small talk on the flight to Seattle. Somehow seeing her name in the news again had taken the desire to talk out of her. Steve had just sat reading the latest blockbuster novel and was obviously lost in his own thoughts.

13. Retrieval Operation
------------------------------

A gray/blue Ford SUV was waiting for them at the airport and during the trip across town Steve outlined the plan once more, "You're to stay in the van with the mission coordinator. When we find something we'll bring it to you for verification. We've some specimen containers in the trunk so as soon as we find it the changeling organ is to be locked inside them. In addition we've a mobile changeling organ test kit. That should help you make sure we've really got the right thing. You should know how to use it, you invented it!

Although this is an FBI resourced operation I'll be overseeing it. Your orders are to stay in the van, and don't even think about poking around on your own."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Friday said innocently.

"I mean it. Heinlein wants you in the van, all the time," Steve warned.

"Understood."

The FBI had already set up camp, surrounding the large research establishment. Steve and Friday got out the car and asked an FBI jacketed agent where Agent Wachoski was. They were directed to a large armor plated van with several dishes and aerials sticking out of the roof. Obviously that was where she was supposed to stay.

Agent Wachoski was a man of medium height and build. His face was a strange mixture of young and old, as his premature gray hair was parted over a thin, narrow face. Friday guessed he was around 38.

Steve introduced them "Agent's Steve Grayson and Naomi Mena."

"Nice to meet you", Agent Wachoski said offering his hand.

Friday shook it firmly, noting how Agent Wachoski's brown eyes gave her the once over.

"What's the status?" Steve asked.

"We've sealed all the exits and issued the search warrant. We're getting the building plans delivered to us now. This place is huge, there's a lot of parts underground and the signage inside is really poor. The place is a real maze," Agent Wachoski commented.

Noting the puzzled look on Steve and Agent Wachoski's faces Friday explained, "It was designed that way. These research places are typically laid out to confuse any would be eco terrorist, animal rights activist or industrial spy that would try and steal or wreck their facilities. The objective could be anywhere, but concentrate on the research labs themselves."

"What is we're supposed to be looking for?" Agent Wachoski asked.

"A small jar no more than 10 inches high, containing biological tissue about the size of a pancreas," Friday explained, gesturing its size with her hands.

"I know what it looks like, just not what it is," Agent Wachoski complained.

"That's on a need to know basis. Bring anything that looks like that to Agent Mena here and she'll verify the contents," Steve interrupted.

Agent Wachoski just nodded, no doubt he'd expected that answer but had asked the question on the off chance.

"NSB, you're in the van. The rest of you are with me," Steve ordered.

It took a few moments for Friday to realize that NSB, aka Nightmare Surfer Babe, was her. She almost said something in retort but thought better of it. Instead she suggested, "Agent Grayson, leave the SUV keys with me in case you need me perform the tests in situ. They may have the item in an isolation lab so you'll need me to get there as soon as possible."

Friday could see Steve thinking hard. He knew she had a point, if the changeling organ were in isolation they would need her there to check it, as it could not be exposed to the outside without a full decon unit to ensure it was safe. That would take hours to set up; then again she was under orders not to leave the van and providing her with a set of car keys was tantamount giving her free rein, "Sure. But you're only to come in if requested by me, "Steve tossed the car keys to Friday which she deftly caught left handed.

"Thanks," She said pocketing the keys in her jacket pocket.

Steve was then escorted to a waiting car by Agent Wachoski leaving Friday alone next to the comms van. She walked over to the van and knocked on the rear doors.

"ID please," A male voice demanded.

She rummaged in her purse, pulled out her Naomi Mena ID and showed to the obvious camera lens in the door of the Van. There was a click and the door swung open to reveal a high tech interior. Along each side of the van was a bank of flat screen monitors and computer hardware. Sitting down on a plastic swivel chair was an overweight, black haired man who was just starting to tuck into a donut.

"Hi," he put the donut on the table and swiveled round to greet her, "Agent Tommy Harding," he said offering his sugar coated hand to her, "sorry," he said quickly wiping his hands on his jacket.

"Agent Mena. Looks like you're stuck with me for a while," Friday said, trying her best not to show her annoyance at this slobbish character.

"Come in, and make sure the door is secure," Agent Harding offered and produced another swivel chair for her to sit on.

Reluctantly she stepped inside the van and closed the door. It automatically locked shut, thus securing the vehicle.

"From here we can here and see exactly what's going on. These sets of monitors here show the team that's searching the west side," He pointed to the set of screens on the desk Friday was sitting at, "These monitor the East team. Digital recorders ensure nothing is missed in case we need to analyze it later. Each team member has a lapel camera or earpiece which feeds audio and video over an encrypted link which has a range of around 10 miles," Agent Harding said. Clearly he was proud of the capabilities of his domain.

"Can I listen in?" Friday asked.

"Sure, what team?"

Steve would be in the East Team, "East team, can you put it on screen too?"

"Of course," Agent Harding replied and pulled up a window on his system. A couple of clicks later Friday could see the East team just passing through the main gate. Steve had left four agents by the gate to ensure nobody slipped out while they were inside. "Agent Grayson, teams all in place," he heard Agent Wachoski's voice from the speakers to her left.

"Confirmed, "East team we'll work outside in. I want someone left behind at every major junction. West team proceed with sweep of the outbuildings near the rear fence and work in from there. Report in every 15 minutes."

"West Team confirmed," another voice said.

"East team confirmed. Let's go folks." she heard Steve reply.

The first area Steve Searched was the parking lot. Steve left two agents behind to secure the parking lot area before moving into what looked to be a general administration area. Ten minutes later she heard him say "Block 51-a clear, proceeding to block 52."

"West team, outbuildings clear. Just a bunch of janitor stuff, proceeding to Block 2-b."

"Does it always get this boring?" Friday asked after a few minutes of watching the screens.

Agent Harding nodded, "Pretty much. I wanted to put Unreal Tournament on one of the systems but I got turned down, could you believe it? Donut?" He passed a tray of oversweet looking donuts to Friday.

"No thanks. I'll pass," Friday did her best to turn him down. Had he any idea of what those things did to you?

"Do you think they'll find it?" Agent Harding asked.

Friday gestured towards the monitor, "They're sure being thorough. If it's in there they'll find it."

"What is it we're after again? He asked hopefully.

"Some biological material that was stolen from a government installation a few months ago," That was as much detail as she wanted to give.

"I see. I'm just checking their progress. They've done about 3% of the searches. Reckon on another 10 hours before they've done."

It was at this point that Friday decided that she would kill Heinlein with her bare hands.

--- oo ---

Four hours of interminable geekish one sided conversation later Friday was ready to murder anyone. So far she'd learned that Deep Space 9 was by far the best Star Trek, and that Voyager wasn't worthy of the name. In addition she'd been told that Agent Harding Gave Buffy another 2 more series before it was cancelled, and that Jar Jar Binks was an abomination to film lovers everywhere.

"I'm serious," Agent Harding was saying, "An Imperial Star Destroyer would kick the Enterprise D's ass. Even the Sovereign class Enterprise E would lose badly and that has Quantum torpedoes. Saying that, a Borg Cube would.. "

Suddenly the sounds of automatic weapons filled the interior and all simultaneously the East Team's monitors went black, "what the hell?" Friday swore.

"Agent Grayson to Gate Team, suspect is trying to escape in a red Buick Sedan. I count Three, no four shoo," The transmission was cut off by further sounds of gunfire.

"Fuck it. Fuck it, Fuck it!" She couldn't leave Steve stranded in the middle of a gunfight. Fuck orders! , "Agent Harding, give me a one of those spare comms sets and call for the paramedics and backup. I'm going to help!"

Friday's tone was such that Agent Harding obeyed immediately, passing her a miniature earpiece. Inserting it into her right ear she said "Check, Testing 1-2-3."

She heard her voice come from the speakers, "Right open the door!" She ordered.

Agent Harding pressed a button on the side of the door and it swung open. She sprinted towards the SUV she and Steve had driven to site it and with a screech of wheels shot off towards the main gate.

As she was driving to the main gate, a red Buick raced passed on the other side of the road. She flung the car into a J turn, feeling the SUV lean over and the protests from its suspension. She'd leave the paramedics to deal with the casualties. "Agent Mena here, spotted red Buick heading north and am in pursuit,"

She floored the accelerator and shot off in chase.

She got to within a 100 yards of the Buick when two heads appeared each side of the car, followed by two automatic weapons. The first volley shattered the windscreen spraying her with broken glass. "Screw this," she said out loud and weaved to avoid another burst aimed at her tires. She continued to weave and dodge as the gunmen tried in vain to shoot her tires and radiator out.

Now doing over a 100 miles and hour she was rapidly closing on the Buick, when it suddenly braked hard as she overtook it.

She felt bullet slam into her legs as the side of the SUV was strafed by the gunmen in the car. Luckily none of them had broken a bone, so the damage was quickly healed. The Buick had now sped up and was gathering speed. If she didn't act soon she'd lose them once they overtook again. It was about to overtake her and no doubt subject her to another wilting volley of machine gun fire. This time they might get a lucky shot in and she daren't take her eyes off the road to instigate a change to add any body armor.

She glanced in her wing mirror, they'd overtake any moment. She'd have to time this just right. Setting the cruise control she readied herself to open the door as soon as the Buick came past. In the mirror she saw the gunmen preparing to fire as the car drew closer, with any luck they'd shoot at an empty car. Three, Two one, NOW. In one smooth movement she opened the door and timed the leap to perfection.

She landed on the Roof of the Buick and clung on with her left hand to the side of the car. The clunk of her landing was greeted by immediate gun fire aimed through the roof. She felt two bullets hit her full on in the chest and she stopped the internal bleeding right away, there was no time for anything else!

The Buick was now weaving and braking in an effort to throw her off, and it was taking all her effort to resist being buffeted off the car by the wind. She needed to act fast. With the last of her available concentration she formed a poisoned tipped, sharp bony blade with her right hand and with all her strength punched it thru the roof of the car into the passenger compartment. She felt her blade hand punch thru bone and heard a stifled cry above the roar of the wind and dodged as more bullets were fired at her from the other side. She saw a head appear from the other side window and then a pistol. In one precise movement she pivoted round and kicked the gun from the guy's hand.

Now knowing where the guy was she stabbed her blade hand thru the roof once more and felt the blade slice thru flesh and bone. Reforming a hand once more she slid down the roof, punched a whole thru the rear window with her fist and dived in.

Both gunmen in the back were dead, which left only the ones up front. The one in the passenger seat was the first to react and he turned to face her around, pistol in hand. It was Michael Alexander! Dammit! she needed him alive.

With a single downward, slashing blow she smashed her hand down in a chopping motion, feeling his arm splinter in a compound fracture as she did so. The pistol went clattering to the footwell. Michael screamed in agony clutching his arm, already the bone was showing thru the skin.

Friday retrieved the gun and pointed it at the drivers head, "Stop the car, throw the keys out of the window and keep your hands on the wheel!"

With no choice the driver stopped the car and complied.

Still training the gun on the driver, Friday picked the keys up and ordered the survivors out of the car.

"Who, what the fuck are you?" Michael stammered, still clutching his shattered arm. The skin around the fracture was bruising, showing that the bone was digging into the tissue.

"Your worst nightmare!" Friday replied in a menacing tone.

"You. Where were you going?" She pointed the gun at the driver.

"Fuck off!" The driver swore.

"One last chance. Where were you going and what are you carrying?" Friday hissed.

"No way!" The driver spat.

Friday aimed the gun at the drivers knee cap and fired.

With a scream of pain the driver collapsed clutching his splintered knee, "Now if you want to walk without a limp I suggest you tell me!" Friday demanded.

"We, we were going to meet up with a contact," Michael stammered.

The driver, shot Michael look that said "Traitor!"

"Who were you going to meet?" Friday demanded.

"Go to hell, bitch!" The driver swore thru gritted teeth.

"Look, I'm going to get the information one way or the other. The best way is for you to tell me. The worst way involves me slowly putting bullets into your arms and legs until you can't move anymore."

"Fuck off!"

Casually Friday shot the driver's other kneecap," Right elbow next, who and where?"

"Ok, We're going to meet Darryl Scheider in the Nu-Wave record store off Madison Street, Seattle in just over an hour," The driver was in obvious pain.

"What were you going to give him?" Friday had a good idea of what it was they where carrying.

"He knows," the driver shot a glance at Michael.

Friday considered what to do next. Both the driver and Michael Alexander had seen her in action. By rights she should kill them, but maybe there was another way.

"You, driver lay on the floor," She demanded.

Still in agony the driver obeyed.

"You," she pointed the gun at Michael, open the trunk.

Michael walked to the car and trigged the trunk release.

"Now on the floor next to you friend!" She demanded.

Michael complied but he was in obvious pain as he tried to put weight on his shattered arm.

As she suspected wrapped in foam was a glass container, she carefully lifted up to view the contents. Floating in its preservative was the unmistakable shape of the missing changeling organ.

Out of sight of her two prisoners she grew an injection needle from her left knuckle. In it she created a hallucinogenic drug combined with a sedative. It would make them think they'd imagined her inhuman abilities and so preserve her cover. It was a far more preferable option than killing them.

"Face down, both of you," She ordered and quickly one after the other injected them with the sedative. She waited for the effects to take hold and then said out loud, "Agent Mena to Agent Harding. Do you copy?"

"Sure, what the hell was going on out there? What's your status?"

"I'm unharmed and have recovered the item. How's everyone there?" she asked, hoping to God that Steve was OK.

"Hi NSB, I'm ok, albeit having the mother of all headaches from being hit on the head. We lost 4 agents with 2 wounded," Steve voice came thru the earpiece.

Friday breathed a sigh of relief, "Steve thank God, I've apprehended the gunmen. We're about 8 miles north from you. We've two dead and two requiring medical attention, one with compound fractures to the right arm, the other with broken kneecaps. Steve We need to talk privately can you get Agent Harding to take this off speaker?"

There was a pause, "Steve here, We’re clear, except for the recording devices."

"Steve, Can you run a check on a Darryl Scheider? That's who they were going to give the item to. They were due to meet him at Nu-Chart records off Madison street Seattle. Thing is we've only got 55 minutes to get there so there's no time to lose or put someone else in. I'm going there to do the swap. With any luck we'll be able to trace this back to source. The real item will be in the trunk of the SUV."

"So much for just staying in the van! Ok, be careful, we'll be there as soon as we can. We'll send for a chopper to back you up," Steve's voiced sounded a little concerned.

She walked over to the car and investigated the two dead occupants in the passenger seat. The one on the right's head was nearly split in two from her blade hand, and the other had a large gash in the shoulder. The poison in her blade has obviously killed him. She got out and rounded the other side of the car, opened the passenger door and pulled the other gunmen's dead body from the car. She needed the poisoned one intact for the moment so she left him inside the car.

Walking over to the unconscious Michael Alexander she stripped his clothes off and placed them on the passenger seat of the car. She then grew a small hollow spine from her wrist and plunged it into his neck. She'd need his DNA sample for later. Michael didn't even twitch, they would be unconscious for hours and even then the hallucinogenic would ensure they stayed incoherent for longer.

She started the engine of the car and drove off to find the SUV.

It didn't take her long to find what left of it. It had driven on it's own for about a quarter mile before wandering off the road and smashing into a tree at considerable speed. The front of the SUV was mashed almost in two by the force of the impact, but as she'd hoped the rear of the SUV had suffered a lot less damage.

Forcing open the trunk took all of her strength, so twisted was the chassis, but a minute later or so she was inside. Lifting out the box containing the specimen containers and changeling test she gingerly opened the catch. The metal construction and foam padding had protected it from the impact of the crash and they were all intact.

She ran back to the Buick and retrieved the changeling organ from the trunk and sprinted back to the SUV. She poured a small amount of the changeling test's liquid into a spare specimen jar and placed it down in the trunk.

Twisting the Changeling organ's container open she tore a tiny section off it as she held out of the jar. Its wet slimy texture told her that it was in good condition and hadn't decayed that much. For sure it could have been put to use had it fallen into the wrong hands.

With her other hand she picked up the changeling test and dropped the section she'd ripped off into the jar. Immediately the liquid went green, indicating a positive result. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was, as she thought the real deal.

Screwing up the containers again, she put the changeling organ safely into a spare slot in the specimen container and pulled out another empty jar. Now to create a dummy one.

Opening the rear passenger door she pulled the dead gunman from the car and laid him flat out on the ground, his dead eyes facing upwards. As quickly as she could she ripped the gunman's shirt open revealing a gorilla like hairy chest. She concentrated and turned right index finger into a razor sharp boney scalpel. In one practiced movement she sliced the gunman's body open, ignoring the extensive blood flow that oozed out of the wound.

With her left hand she pulled the gunman's flesh open and carefully slicing layer after layer of flesh apart located his pancreas. The man's body was still warm and the blood hadn't had time to settle. She took hold of the pancreas with her left hand. A quick incision with her scalpel sharp index finger blade allowed her to pull the pancreas easily away from the chest. She gave it a gentle squeeze, ignoring the warm fleshy texture of it as the blood trickled out of it and dripped all over the grass. She needed it as empty of the Gunman's blood as possible.

Still holding it in her left hand, she turned her little finger into a small hollow needle and plunged it into her left arm. Feeling the needle fill with her blood she waited until she was she sure it was full. The final step was to inject her blood into the pancreas. Some of it spurted out all over her arm, but by now she was so covered in blood and gore it hardly mattered. The final stage was to put the pancreas into a specimen jar, fill it with preservative and place it back in the trunk of the Buick. Her blood she'd injected into the pancreas would show positive for a changeling organ, so if anyone did a test on it they'd think they had the real thing.

Now to clean up, turning the boney scalpel and needle back into fingers she walked to the SUV and looked to see if any water remained in the cooling system.

Although the radiator was shattered there were still a few pints of water left in the plastic reservoir and in the screen wash bottle. She ripped them from the remains of the engine bay and used the still hot water to wash off the blood covering her arms and hands.

She checked her watch, only forty five minutes to go. She'd need to hurry. She walked behind the Buick and quickly stripped off her clothes. Concentrating hard she felt her flesh grow and reform as she took on Michael's features and body. Quickly retrieving his clothes from the passenger seat, she put them on, placing her own clothes in the trunk of the SUV and then placed the earpiece back in her ear. She'd take it out at the last moment.

Now looking exactly like Michael Alexander she got into the Buick and drove off back into town. She had exactly forty two minutes.

--- oo ---

She had been driving for thirty two minutes when her earpiece crackled into life. "NSB, you there?" It was Steve, and by the sound of it he was in a helicopter.

Friday quickly adjusted her vocal chords to sound like her Naomi Mena Persona. No doubt she was still being recorded and it would raise all kinds of questions if she replied in a male voice.

"NSB, you copy?" Steve called again.

"Cut the NSB crap. Yeah I'm fine. The item is in the trunk of the SUV, and it's tested positive. It's the real deal," Friday said out loud.

"That's great news. What's your status?" Steve asked, the relief obvious in his voice.

"I'm about ten minutes away from Nu-Chart, if I can find the correct turn that is. Did you find anything out about Darryl Scheider?" She needed as much info as she could before she went in.

"A little, from our records it seems like he's a hired gun. Selling his services to anyone that will pay, Guild, Hamas, La Cosa Nostra, Russian Mafia, anyone. It's our guess he was the guy who was going to secure the item for Alexi Ivanov and smuggle it out of the country. If possible find the route he was going to use. We'll then have the whole chain," Steve explained.

"My thoughts exactly. I take it you want Daryl alive?" Friday queried.

"Affirmative., Anything else to report?" Steve asked.

"I'm afraid I've left behind my usual mess near the SUV. Make sure you get my things from the trunk. I'll need them when I get back," She could just imagine the faces of the FBI agents when they came across the bloodied slaughter she'd just created.

From the corner of her eye she saw a blight blue sign reading Nu-Chart as she drove passed it, "Steve I'm here already. I need to go. What's your ETA?"

"Ten minutes, we've another chopper coming in twelve. We'll hover just out of earshot until you call. Good luck," the earpiece went dead as Steve signed off. Taking her earpiece out, she switched it off and stuffed it in her pocket. The last bit of preparation she needed to do was turn her voice back into that of Michael Alexander.

She did a U-turn at the next junction, much to the protests of the other drivers and headed back to Nu-Chart. As she turned into Nu-Chart's parking lot she was sure she saw a face looking at her from the window of the store. She checked her watch, she had one minute to spare.

Casually she got out of the car and retrieved the fake changeling organ from the trunk. She was now certain she was being observed. Even though the sign on the front door said 'closed', she was in no doubt Daryl would be waiting for her round the back. She worked her away round the side of the store until she came to a set of wooden double doors in a back street. Pretending to tie her shoe laces, she hid the earpiece under a crumpled up coke can she'd spotted. After making sure the earpiece was well hidden she gave the doors three loud knocks and waited for a reply.

A small hatch scraped open in one of the doors, Friday could see a set of brown eyes look around till they focused on her, "You got it?"

Friday nodded and held the container up, "Yeah. Look, let me in, we have a problem."

There was an unlocking sound from the door, and it slid open revealing what looked to be the stockroom of the store, quite large and lined with shelves. The owner of the brown eyes, a small, rat like looking man looked at her with some suspicion.

"Thanks," Friday nodded and walked inside. The man slid the door shut once more and escorted her towards the front of the store.

Her sharp eyes and senses counted seven men hidden behind the shelves of stock, with two more near the door. The glint of a weapon, someone's eyes, a protruding foot or the even a reflection of a face on a CD case gave the game away. In an open plan area she'd stand a chance, here she was like a rat in trap. The room was dimly lit too, lit only by a single exposed neon tube.

"Michael, It's so good to see you again." A voice of east European descent boomed out from somewhere in the gloom.

"Daryl?" Friday guessed.

"Do you have the item?" The voice asked.

Her face showing sorrow and confusion Friday said, "Yes, but there was a problem. The police were searching the labs, so we had to escape. The others stayed behind to fight the police and made sure I got away. I don't know if they made it or not."

"We knew there had been a problem, your car is a wreck. We will worry about the others later. Give me the item," the voice demanded.

"Not until I'm paid," Friday guessed there had been some kind of financial arrangement made.

"We need to make sure that it's genuine. For that there has to be trust, no?" the voice had no threat to it, it was just business.

"Ok, come into the light where I can see you," Friday asked.

"Of course. Put the container on the table over there. Sasha over there will test the item to see if it's genuine."

Friday obeyed and put the container with the faked changeling organ inside. on the table.

A medium height, but well built man in a blue suit stepped out from her left. This must be Sasha.

"Open your shirt, we will check you to see if you are wired," Sasha demanded. To her right she noticed a silenced pistol being pointed at her. Still acting the nervous scientist she complied and undid her shirt.

Sasha patted her down and grunted, "He's clear. Now Mr. Alexander, please move away from the table"

Sasha's voice, although polite carried a menace that Friday hadn't picked up on before. Clearly tension and events were escalating. She stepped back from the table and did up her shirt, it would help disguise the armor she was about to grow under her skin.

Sasha reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small vial of yellow liquid and some surgical scissors, he then undid the container and with a single snip had cut a tiny section off the faked changeling organ and dropped it inside the vial.

The liquid stayed clear for what seemed like an eternity before gradually changing green. Friday couldn't help but breathe out in relief, sometimes attention to detail and belt and braces paid off.

"Thank you Michael, now for your payment in full," the voice said calmly.

From the other side of the room she heard a 'click' and instinctively dived to one side, fractions of a second later bullets whistled over her head.

Before the gunmen could take aim Friday leapt behind a long set of shelves, stacked with loose CD's. She glanced across to the table and saw that the table was empty.

She felt a bullet impact in her back, and immediately sealed the wound. She was surrounded!

She'd need more than blade hands to get out of this one. Suddenly an idea hit her as sure as the bullet just had. She picked up several CD cases and performed a graceful jump into the air, at the last second she threw the CD cases at the single neon tube, shattering it and plunging the room into darkness.

She heard a man to her right try and flick a switch and swear "Fuck!" as it failed to work. She dived under a shelf and adjusted her eyes to see in ultraviolet, and for good measure she felt small pits grow under her eyes. These would act like those of a rattlesnake, allowing her to see the heat signature of the men she was fighting. The last thing she did was ensure that she had protected her head from gunfire. She was about to move out from under the shelf when she saw the purple-red outline of a man walk past her.

"He must still be in here. The doors still shut!" one commented to her front right.

'Now for offensive weaponry' she thought as her fingers melded together forming their now customary cutting blades, except with one variation. The ones she grew now were slender rapier looking blades, all the better for silent killing. From her elbows she grew a serrated cutting edge, and the final thing she did was take her shoes and socks off, so she would make less noise.

By now the men in the room had found their flashlights and were strobing the room searching for her. Time to move.

Silently she stood up and thru her purple, heat signature enhanced vision scanned the room. Two men had taken up positions near the door, two more were in the rear corner of the room and the final two were in the middle. Obviously, Sasha and the elusive Darryl had run, leaving their henchmen to do their work.

She deliberately kicked a nearby stack of CD's over, and they clattered to the ground. Instantly a torch was shone in that area from the man closest to her. Within a matter of moments she had pounced, had punched her rapier like blade into the man's heart. He went down without a sound, as did the torch its light tumbling in all directions.

Moments, later gunfire raked the wall where she'd just killed the man. The falling torch had told them something was wrong.

"Mika? You ok?" A voice at the end of the stock room called.

Friday saw the man's heat signature move slightly. In the dark he'd left a blind spot to his right. As quietly as she could she crept up behind the man and with a single slashing movement of her elbow nearly severed the man's head from its body.

"Fuck this I'm out of here!" A man near the door said. Friday saw the red outline of the man turn to leave, but was stopped by his comrade.

Suddenly she was dazzled by the torchlight and instinctively ducked as the bullets ricocheted over her head. She wouldn't be as careless again.

"Shit! Did you see that?" One man swore.

Through her infra red vision she saw the remaining gunmen formed up at the door end of the room and spread out in a line. Clearly they were going to sweep the room from one end to the other, Damn.

She slid under another shelf and glanced around the room, still in darkness in ordinary light, but clearly visible in ultra violet. She then noticed above her head, a heating pipe of some description. As stealthily as she could, she crept out from under the shelf and adjusted her leg muscles to make the jump. She did so and using her rapier like blades to loop around the pipe, ignoring the cuts they were making in her chest as the razor sharp points dug in. She then looped her legs over the pipe and awaited for the men to walk past her.

She saw the torch beams sweep over the floor beneath her, "Nothing yet!" she heard a voice, the terror it's owner felt was easily heard. It would be only a matter of moments now. She readied herself as the red shapes walked past her position, seconds later she let go of the pipe and silently dropped to the floor.

She span around and in one smooth movement rammed her slender blade thru the back of the man's skull, feeling the warmth of his brain as the tip sliced thru the bridge of his nose, still moving she slashed her knife edged elbow down his neighbors back, feeling her serrated blade bite into his spinal cord. Both men screamed in pain and fell to the floor as she withdrew her rapier blade from the first man's head.

The two men next to them whirled around, torches in hand and guns at the ready, but he need'nt have bothered, as Friday dropped to one knee and thrust both blades upwards into the man's necks and out of the back of their heads.

She let the two men twist and squirm, still impaled on her blade arms, until she was sure they were dead. With a 'snick' she withdrew them from the men's heads and turned her attention to the guards at the door.

Abandoning stealth, she changed her whole forearms into large scissor like blades and ran full sprint towards the door, in an exact mirror of her actions in Russia she opened and closed her arms in a slashing scissor motion. She knew before she'd seen the results that the men's heads had been cleanly sliced from their bodies.

Emergency over, she ran to the back door. She had to tell Steve that Daryl and Sasha had got away.

--- oo ---

Friday retrieved the earpiece from its hiding place, activated it and placed it in her ear. The last thing she did was adjust her voice once more to that of Agent Naomi Mena, "Steve you copy?"

"We're here! Status?"

Friday explained, "They took the bait, but Daryl and his sidekick got away. Did you see anything?"

"We saw a Blue Taurus drive out of here about 3 minutes ago. It's being tailed by the other chopper, and we’ve alerted Seattle PD. We stayed put to make sure you were ok, "Steve's voice crackled in Friday's earpiece. Obviously her battery was getting low.

"I'm ok down here. We've got six fatalities, usual injuries. The battery in my earpiece is running low. What do you want me to do?"

"Make your way to the roof, we'll hover on there and pick you up. Steve out."

Friday went back inside the store, casually stepping over the decapitated remains of two of the gunmen. She quickly searched the still dark stock room and found her shoes and socks, just where she'd left them.

She'd need to find a set of stairs upwards somewhere. Since she hadn't noticed any steps in the stock room they must be further towards the front of the store. The door to from the stockroom to the rest of the shop was unlocked, and it opened with a 'click'. She was in a corridor, lined with lockers for the staff and she noticed that to her left was a bathroom, obviously for use of customers. She took the opportunity to duck in and wash the evidence of the fight from her arms and hands.

Ideally she would need to ditch Michael Alexander's body and go back to being Agent Naomi Mena once more. Maybe the lockers contained something she could use.

One by one she twisted the padlocks off the lockers and opened them. They contained the usual, books, CD's and walkmans. Jackpot! The last one contained a spare uniform for one of the female staff. She pulled it out of the locker and surveyed it. A short black miniskirt with a nu-chart logo'd halter top. The owner had also left a pair of black small heeled shoes that were obviously part of the uniform.

Friday quickly stripped off her Michael Alexander clothes and concentrated. She felt her flesh reform and reshape into that of the body of Naomi Mena. "That's better' she said out loud and started to get into the clothes she'd just found.

She had to make several adjustments to Naomi's body shape in order to get the clothes to fit properly. The Mini skirt was much too small for Naomi's hips so she had to shrink her hips in order for it to fit properly. She also needed to adjust the size of her feet and after slipping on the shoes she collected Michael Alexander's clothes from the floor and walked into the main area of the store. She quickly located a couple of large plastic bags and stuffed the spare clothes in there. It would cause all sorts of problems to have them left here. Finally she located a set of stairs leading to the second floor of the store and she sprinted up them.

It took her a few moments to locate the door to the fire escape and with a hefty shove the door flung open. She could hear Steve's helicopter hovering just above her, so she started to climb up the fire escape to the roof.

A few moments later she was on the roof, running towards the waiting helicopter. Steve was in the passenger seat, waving his arms for her to run.

Stepping up into the chopper was more difficult than expected, largely due to the shortness of her skirt and the fact she had no lingerie on. Steve's comment of "Nice view!" earned him a promise of brutal castration at some point in the future.

As Friday started to buckle herself in, Steve started to give an update, "We're still pursuing the car both in the air and by local PD. Once we've picked you up we're going to reinforce the effort. Nice outfit by the way!"

Friday complained. "It was either this or blow my cover. Enjoy it while you can. All done. Let's go," she finished strapping herself in.

Steve gave a signal and the helicopter started to lift off and headed off, into downtown Seattle.

"What happened in the music store?" Steve asked, as the chopper banked heavily to avoid a power pylon.

"Daryl and his buddy were there, with around 6 others. Before I left for the rendezvous I made a fake changeling organ using one of the guys pancreas's and some of my own blood," Friday started to explain.

"So that's why one of the guys we found chest was ripped open. Continue," Steve replied.

"They had a changeling test, FK how they got hold of one. But anyway, they tested the fake one I'd made. They then double cr.."

Friday was interrupted by Steve swearing, "Fuck!"

"What's up?" she asked earnestly.

Steve pushed the mike down from his headset so he could speak more clearly, "Daryl and his buddy decided to run from the car. They were followed on foot, but they've just gone and hijacked a bus full of kids!"

"Shit! Now what?"

Steve shrugged, "We continue. No doubt they'll try and demand a safe passage, using the kids as hostages. The question for the police and feds is do they let them?"

Friday thought for a moment, "I think we should. They'll ask for an aircraft for sure. Put me on board and hopefully they'll lead us back to Alexi's gang. We'll then have wiped out the whole network."

"It's an option. Let's see what they want first," Steve replied.

Within a matter of minutes Friday saw the other helicopter circling around a yellow school bus. Leaning slightly out of the passenger seat of the other chopper, a sniper was ready should an opportunity presented itself. The police had formed a rolling blockade, ensuring that the bus couldn't get away, or the kidnappers didn't have an opportunity to run.

They followed the bus at a height of around 500 feet for a full five minutes when Steve gestured with his hand as if to say 'we’re getting something' He nodded his head a few times before answering "Confirmed. We'll get back to you."

"What?" Friday demanded. She hated feeling left out.

"As you thought, they want an aircraft. They're going to put all the kids on board and fly it to Russia. They'll land, get away and then let the kids go," Steve explained.

"Yeah right. I'd land and blow the plane up, to divert attention from us getting away. If the kids get on that plane then they are as good as dead. If we take Daryl down before he reaches Russia then we'll never get all the gang and will have zero idea what they wanted the changeling organ for," Hobson's choice. Allow innocents to die, or save them and lose track of a potentially greater danger.

From his face Friday saw that Steve had been thinking the same thing, "I'm open to ideas about now?" He replied.

"I assume Daryl won't let people know their destination until they are nearly there?" Friday asked.

Steve nodded, "Yeah. You onto something?"

Friday nodded, "I think so. Do you think they'll agree to let a hostess on board to help placate the kids and ensure their welfare. It's a long flight and they won't want the job themselves. Once we know the destination airport I can then take Daryl down and take it from there."

"It's about the only option we've got. I can ask the question. First of all I need to clear the idea with Heinlein," Steve paused for a few seconds and asked the question into his headset.

"So, what else do they say?" Friday asked.

"Not much, they're heading towards the airport. We've told them it'll take an hour to prep a plane. We're to go on ahead and land and wait for further instructions."

The chopper banked away from the pursuit and flew ahead to the airport. A whole runway area had been cleared for them to use and Friday saw a TWA 747 being fuelled and checked. She pointed it out to Steve who nodded, "Yeah that looks like it."

Friday was about to add another observation when Steve waved her to be quiet, "aha, understood. I'll pass it on."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Change of plan. You're not going with them. We're to capture Daryl and bring him in. As for his buddy we're going to take him out as soon as we get a clear shot. If we let them take off we're seen to be negotiating with terrorists, and that will raise the white flag to groups from Columbia to Japan," Steve explained.

"But what about the risk to the kids?" typical! Didn't they trust her to do the right thing?

"It'll be ok. We're positioning snipers to wound Daryl and his buddy. As soon as they step out of the bus they'll take em down. Heinlein is talking to the Russians so that as soon as we know who and where they are they can go in and get them.

"It's still a hell of a risk. What do they want me to do?" Friday asked. She hoped to god that they knew what they were doing.

"Stay close to me, and get ready to intervene if required. It's too public a place to do any changeling stuff, but you can still move quicker than anyone. See, the news crews are gathering already," Steve pointed at an NBC Chopper closing in on where they were hovering.

"Didn't take them long. No doubt they'll get chased away soon enough," Friday felt the chopper start to descend, "I guess we'll get a ring side seat," she commented.

Steve didn't reply, he was on the headset listening.

It took a few moments for the helicopter to bump gently down on the airport tarmac. They'd landed a couple of hundred yards away from the waiting 747, "Ladies first!" Steve gestured for Friday to get out first.

Carefully Friday stepped out of the helicopter and instinctively ducked down as the downdraft buffeted her from all directions. Within a matter of moments, Steve was along side her and the chopper had lifted off, "They'll be here in 5 minutes," Steve shouted over the noise of the helicopter's engines.

Friday spotted a luggage truck, near to the steps of the 747, "There looks like a good place to watch."

Steve nodded, "As long as we're not armed they'll be ok. They'll expect us to keep an eye on them."

Friday could just about hear the sirens of the escorting police cars, "Time to get in position, come on," she jogged to the luggage truck and stood behind it.

A few seconds later Steve caught up. Friday noted with some satisfaction that she'd left him easily behind. At full speed she estimated that she could top 60mph, for her that was just small jog. Friday spotted movement on a hanger roof about 200 yards away. The sniper was getting ready, she just hoped Heinlein knew what he was doing. Within a few seconds the sniper had become invisible, with not even the glint of the sight to give his position away. There must be a second sniper in other spot as the takedown would have to happen simultaneously.

She was glad she'd played the insurance card now. It would be too easy for Heinlein to order her to be killed in a similar manner, an accidental friendly fire incident in a confused shoot out. Even so she still decided to take the precaution of thickening her skull to protect against a ricocheted bullet. There was no invisible defense against direct headshot from a heavy caliber weapon such as the rifles the sharpshooters carried. She would need to grow a significant amount of armor to protect against that, which would necessitate the complete dehumanizing of her head. Even then it would touch and go as to its effectiveness.

By now the sirens had grown much louder and the police cars fanned out and encircled the 747. The school bus at the centre of the swarm of cops stopped just behind the steps leading up to the waiting airliner. Subconsciously Friday glanced up to where the sniper was waiting. They would have the perfect shot for when Daryl and Sasha walked up the steps. From her position, in front of the steps they would pass no more than 50 yards away.

A small girl, with strawberry blonde hair was the first to emerge from the bus. Friday's heart sank as she saw that Daryl had tied a fragmentation grenade around her neck, a long piece of string was tied at one end to the pin, and the other around the waist of a boy, no more than 7 years old. Their faces were streaked with tears, and a look of dread in their eyes. Another two boys walked out, this time tied to the boy on front.

What Daryl had done was becoming obvious. He'd tied all the kids together so that if one ran, the grenade would go off killing them all. Next out walked Sasha, the man who'd inspected the fake changeling organ for her. Tied to the end of his wrist was the end of the piece of string, no doubt if he fell it would tug on the string hard enough to remove the pin.

Friday now realized with horror that what they were planning to do, would cause the kids to be put in am almost certain lethal situation, "Steve. We've got to call it off!" She tugged Steve's sleeve in desperation.

"Wait!" Steve ordered.

"Steve, stop being paralyzed like a deer in a headlight! Fucking order the snipers to back down!" Friday urged. Couldn't Steve see what she had? Couldn't he see what was going to happen next!

"Friday, we have our orders. We'll do it as we're told!" Steve tried to placate Friday.

"Screw orders! Those kids will die!" Friday swore.

"As I thought, here come some more," Steve commented and nodded towards the bus.

Another girl, this time with dark hair and a petite blue dress walked out, sobbing gently to herself. Around her neck was another fragmentation grenade, the string was looped back thru her sleeve and onto another boy who was trying to be brave. Two more small boys emerged, the similarity of their faces indicated they were twins. The long string had been passed thru their belt straps on their pants, and the other end was tied to the right wrist of a tall well built man wearing a blue suit. This Friday deduced must be Daryl. On his right wrist there was another length of string leading into the bus. Fuck, he must have wired more kids!

Friday gave Steve a sharp dig in the ribs, "Steve!" she hissed.

"Hold your position Lieutenant!" Steve replied sharply, using her Air Force rank to emphasize what he was ordering her to do.

Friday fell silent, quietly fuming. Did they want those kids to die? Would it allow them to make some obscure political point? An idea formed, a stupid, desperate ideal but it was the only one that had any chance of working.

Three more children walked out of the bus, again the string had been looped thru various holes in their clothes. More came out, until nearly forty kids were huddled around Daryl and Sasha. The last to emerge was the bus driver, he had two more fragmentation grenades tied around his neck, which the far end of the string had been finally tied to. Daryl called something out, but the whimpers and cries of the kids drowned it out. His accented voice shouted, "SHUT UP," and the kids fell silent. Some of them started to cry once more.

"We will board the plane now. Any tricks and we pull," Daryl gestured gently towards the string.

"Steve we can’t let this happen!" Friday tugged Steve's shirt sleeve once more.

"We can and we will. Those kids are dead either way. If we let Daryl and his buddy escape, how many more will they kill? Sometimes you need to make the tough call, for the greater good."

"Fuck that! I've an idea!" Friday snapped. Fuck the lot of them, she didn't care anymore!

"Friday, stay here!" Steve ordered.

"Screw you!" Friday snarled and sprang into action, and sprinted towards Daryl and the hostages.

Friday was a third of the way to them when Daryl noticed her, she saw him yank both arms and as if in slow motion the pins to the grenades came off. In the corner of her eye she saw Sasha do the same.

As fast as she could manage she leapt at the bus driver and the kids and with all her strength tore the grenade necklaces from their necks as she ran past. She threw the grenades away from her and the children and moments later there were four large explosions and it all went black.

14. Shrapnel
----------------

The first voice Friday heard was Steve's "I just saw her move."

The next was that of a woman, "I just saw an eye flicker too. The ECG and monitors show increased heartbeat levels and brain activity."

"Tough 'hell bitch' isn't she," Steve commented.

"Yeah, she always was," The woman replied.

"You knew her before?" Steve's voice asked.

"We were at med school together. Wait, I think she's waking up."

It took all of Friday's remaining strength to open her eyes. She felt weak, tired and exhausted and she hurt everywhere. She could make out two blurred shapes at the foot of what must be her bed, "Steve?" She managed to gasp.

"Yeah it's me. You gave us quite a scare," Steve said soothingly.

The blur focused a little more. She could make out the shape of the woman. Her vision started to clear. She was in a hospital ward, how had she got here? Steve's face came into focus. She glanced across to the woman, "Hi Beverley, You just can't stay away can you," The end of the sentence was masked by a series of coughs.

"That’s Dr Beverley Adams to you," Dr Adams corrected.

Friday tried to sit up, but failed. She was still too weak.

"Here let me," Steve said softly and cranked the head section of the bed up a few inches.

"Thanks. Can I have some water?" Friday rasped. Her throat was parched.

"Sure, don't forget to sip," Dr Adams said, and passed Friday a glass of water.

It was a massive struggle to even lift the glass to her lips, but she managed to take a few sips, "Better!"

"How'd you feel?" Steve asked?

"I've had better days. What..," Friday started to say but her voice failed on her.

"I'll fill you in. You've been comatose for five days. Dr Adams here is the only doctor who knows your anatomy and is cleared high enough to treat you.."

Friday nodded. It made sense. They wouldn't risk just anyone treating her. Beverly was the obvious choice. She was chief physician on the President's personal staff, and she'd helped her recover from a near fatal wound from her titanic fight against a Guild Changeling and had at least a working knowledge of how her redundant systems worked.

"You're in a secure ward in a military hospital. We med-evac'd you out as soon as we could," Steve had sat down at the end of the bed.

Friday tried to ask about the kids, but found her voice had still gone.

"You took most of the shrapnel from the grenades. I'm sorry but three of the kids didn't make it and ten of the kids had lacerations to their heads and bodies, but they'll live. For what it's worth a lot more would have died, had you not done what you did. You did all you could and more than we even dreamed possible."

Friday felt as though someone had punched her in the gut. She blinked away a tear. Three!

Steve put his hand on hers and it felt oddly comforting, "Friday, You did everything you could. Nobody blames you. The world thinks Agent Naomi Mena died a heroine. There was no way you could have saved all of them!"

I should have found a way, Friday thought to herself bitterly.

"As soon as you snatched the grenades away the snipers took Daryl and his buddy Sasha down. They're both in custody now and we're well on the way to getting names and faces to their contacts. As I mentioned before the world thinks Agent Mena was killed saving the kids. Hell we all did, you had shrapnel wounds everywhere. Dr Adams here says that your additional head armor you grew probably saved your life. She was also amazed you didn't lose a limb in the blast, although you must have made sure they were protected," Friday noted the admiration tinged with curiosity in his voice.

"I'll give you your dues. You know how to build a survivable body. Even the way it removed the shrapnel from your body was remarkable. As your skin and flesh grew back it pushes the fragments of metal out from your skin and it simply fell out. We Collected nearly 3 pounds of metal from you. In addition to using your body mass as fuel, it seems you use any damaged flesh and bone extra fuel to repair your body and simply grow new ones. You lost nearly 180Lb's in weight. I didn't do much, just ensured you had enough fluids and glucose to help your repair yourself," Dr Adams explained.

No wonder she'd felt weak. She'd used up almost all of her body mass 'fuel' in the repairing of her wounds and in the recovery of the stolen changeling organ. Given a few more hours and she'd be able to change back into her Friday body again. Friday took another couple of sips of water and felt her voice return, "It seems Beverly I owe you my life again, thanks."

"I won't say it's a pleasure, but you did the right thing trying to save those kids," Dr Adams replied, and walked towards Friday's IV to adjust the flow of glucose and water into her.

"What about my cover? I really messed up!" Friday complained.

"Heinlein's got a handle on that. People saw Agent Naomi Mena sprint as fast as a top class athlete and then take four grenade blasts at fairly close range. We moved pretty quickly to get you out of there and you were rushed right here under top security. I'm sure your sprinting efforts would not go unnoticed, which is why regrettably Agent Naomi Mena died of her wounds on the way to hospital. You will insist on keep getting the identities we create for you killed won't you?" Steve smiled.

Friday was still worried. Sure news of Agent Mena's death would put most people off the scent. But a few would wonder and try to connect the dots, "Won't our enemies wonder about what happened?"

Steve nodded, "Some of them will yes. However, you've left enough traces for some people to start wondering what we've got up our sleeves. One of the measures Heinlein has in place is for you to lay low for a while. Take time out to recover from your injuries, you've a lot of mass to pile back on so that you can do what we need you to do. You'll go back to being a teacher for a while, see out the semester."

"But?" Friday protested.

"The world will get along fine without you for a while. It'll give us time to spread disinformation about Agent Mena and the other things you've done that will distract those people who are looking a little too closely," Steve explained.

"I understand, but I'll be able to turn back into Friday in a few more hours," Friday knew Steve was right, but she needed to finish what she'd started.

Steve thought for a few moments, "Put it like this, in a war you have a certain number of small weapons, a certain number of medium weapons and one or two big ones. The kind of weapons you deploy when you are out of small weapons and medium weapons and you've got nothing left to use."

"Meaning me?" Friday asked.

Steve nodded, "Meaning you. We've been over using you, simply because we didn't know what you could do. It's now clear that we need to be very careful how we use you and you'll need to be careful too. No more dismembering and changeling stuff unless really necessary. We want you to learn to shoot and handle conventional weapons as well as you do those you make yourself. If we're to remove suspicion from us, we need to do nothing suspicious."

Friday saw the logic, if her cover was blown her insurance would be useless. Besides, she really needed the time to build back up her reserves. "Ok, how long do I have off?"

"Three months at least, " Steve replied.

"I can be back to full strength in six weeks!" Friday protested.

"Yes, but as I said there's been a policy change. Since your little insurance stunt with Heinlein and this incident you're no longer our weapon of first response, more of last resort."

"This is Heinlein's way of punishing me isn't it?" Friday managed to say, her voice was starting to go once more.

Steve shook his head, "Not at all, just that we need you at full capacity and your secret intact."

Friday sighed in resignation she was simply too tired to argue.

15. R&R
--------------

"Wake up sleeping Beauty," Friday felt Steve shake her awake. Just how long had she been asleep for?

"What time is it?" Friday asked sleepily. Steve was standing at the end of her bed, a military kitbag over his shoulder

"9am, how are you feeling? So you decided to be Naomi Mena for a while longer then?" Steve asked.

"I didn't have a choice. Last night, I was too weak to change. As for feeling, like I could do with a month off. What's in the bag?" Friday asked. She ached all over, but thanks to the glucose drip and an 18 hour sleep she was no longer utterly exhausted.

Steve gently tossed the bag onto the end of the bed, "Glad you're feeling better than yesterday. As for the bag it's is your uniform Lieutenant. Time for you to go."

"Why, do they need the bed?" Friday quipped.

"No, but the longer your stay here the more of a security risk you are," Steve explained.

Interesting, Friday thought. They must be more concerned about the events at the airport than she had assumed. "Ok, give me fifteen minutes."

"Sure," Steve replied and Friday watched him leave the room and close the door.

It took all of her concentration and what little reserves she'd built up over night but she just managed to change her face into that of her normal 'Friday' one. Naomi Mena had been a fairly close match size wise so she would leave the rest of her body as is until she got back home.

Every arm movement was an effort, and it took her ten minutes to put her Air Force uniform on and make sure she would pass muster. She tied her hair back into a pony tail and placed her cap at the correct angle. She had five minutes to recover her strength. She'd need to walk out of here unaided.

There was a knock at the door and a few seconds later Steve walked in. "Come on Lieutenant, time to leave."

Friday nodded in agreement and as best as she could walked out of the ward with Steve at hand should she fall.

The rest of the journey home was a blur as she drifted between sleep and wakefulness but it was nearly 11pm when she arrived home and Steve helped her to her room.

--- oo ---

The next day, she felt much better, so much so that she had Steve cooking bacon, eggs and waffles for much of the morning.

"Am I going to be cooking for you all day?" Steve complained.

"Probably, "Friday said tucking into her fifth plate of bacon, eggs, waffles and hash browns.

"You certainly seem brighter than yesterday. You slept pretty much all the way back. Three eggs this time or four?" Steve said, gesturing towards the frying pan.

"Six please. I need the protein and carbs. I've a lot of mass to put back on," Friday explained.

"At this rate you'll do that by the end of today," Steve muttered reaching towards another egg.

"Have you told Principal Collier to expect me back tomorrow?" Friday asked. For all the excitement of the past few days she found that she missed teaching. She wanted to know how Angela, Adrian and all the rest of them were doing. Although she'd only been away for three weeks it seemed like forever.

Steve nodded, "It's all been arranged. Sunny side up this time?"

"Please, make sure the bacon isn't too crispy this time," Friday gave Steve a joking look.

Steve sighed "I hate bacon," and went back to frying eggs.

Around midday, and feeling much stronger Friday took the opportunity to change her body back to that of Friday proper and the followed it up by an hour or two, just drifting at the bottom of the pool. Somehow, the isolation of being under the water allowed her to shut out her thoughts, feelings and the world in general. It was the closest she could get to obtaining release.

By the time she emerged from the pool and retracted her gills Steve had gone out, presumably on some errand for Heinlein. So she was left alone once more, but feeling immeasurably more energetic. Part of her wanted to exercise, to relieve some of the pent up frustration and pass the time away, instead she retrieved her text books from the bookcase in the living room and started to prepare for tomorrow's class.

Steve still wasn't back by seven, and Friday was going stir crazy. She'd been in the house all day and inside more or less, for the past six days. She needed to get out. She slipped on a pair of jeans, a green jersey and after collecting her portable CD player hailed a cab.

--- oo ---

She'd asked the cab to drop her off downtown, she just wanted to walk and people watch. Somehow seeing people go about their day to day lives kept her in touch with her humanity. She'd only walked a couple of hundred yards when she spotted an empty bench, perfect.

Sitting down on it she put her headphones on and pressed play on her portable CD player.

      "Here by my side, an angel
      Here by my side, the devil
      Never turn your back on me
      Never turn your back on me, again
      Here by my side, it's Heaven

      Here by my side, you are destruction
      Here by my side, a new color to paint the world
      Never turn your back on it
      Never turn your back on it, again
      Here by my side, it's Heaven

      Careful, be careful
      Careful, be careful
      This is where the world drops off
      Where the world drops off
      Careful, be careful"

The melancholy lyrics and tune caused her to reflect on the past few days. Could she have saved those kids? Logic said no, but then why did her heart say otherwise?

She'd had, she reflected probably spent too much time alone and in her own company. Yet alone was all she had.

      "You breathe in and you breathe out
      For it ain't so weird
      How it makes you a weapon
      And you give in
      And you give out
      For it ain't so weird
      How it makes you a weapon
      Never turn your back on it
      Never turn your back on it again

      Careful, be careful

      Here by my side, it's Heaven"

"There you are!"

Friday glanced up to see Steve standing over her, "Here I am," she replied sarcastically. She was annoyed that Steve had somehow tracked her down.

"Can I sit?" Steve asked.

"If you like," Friday said sullenly.

Steve sat down and turned to look at her. She turned away from his gaze and looked straight ahead, "Go away. I need some 'me' time."

"All you ever have is 'me time', Come on, let's go have some dinner, my treat?" Steve invited.

"How'd you find me?" Friday's mood was not helped by the thought that Steve had been following her.

"I persuaded Heinlein to let me use some spare spy satellite time and I used it to home in on you."

Steve's attempt at a joke didn't even raise a smile.

"If you want to know, I went home noticed you were gone and as I was about to leave to go look for you. I bumped into Marge. Y'know the hotpot lady. Anyway she told me you'd caught a cab so I guessed you'd come downtown."

"I see. I do carry a cell phone though," Friday replied. The irritation of being followed here was slowly vanishing. Steve was here now and he clearly wasn't going to go away.

"Yeah, but you never turn it on. I know you've had what, ten breakfast's today but I've only had the one and I'm famished. You can watch me eat if you like."

Seeing as she really had no choice, Steve was very tenacious sometimes and occasionally it was good to take the path of least resistance. "Ok, but I get to pick."

"Ok, where?" Steve asked.

"Just over there," Friday pointed at an exclusive seafood restaurant she'd passed earlier.

"Ok, but I'll have to work double time just to pay for the meal," Steve replied resigned to spending more than he'd wanted to.

Friday inwardly smiled, he had promised to pay for the meal and it was a suitable punishment for interrupting her, "Let's go then."

The restaurant was suitably high class, and both Steve and Friday looked out of place dressed as they were. A hefty 'tip' to the matre de ensured that they got a secluded table, away from most of the diners. An arrangement which suited the matre de just fine.

Steve passed Friday the menu and picked up one himself. "Have you seen these prices!" he exclaimed.

Friday nodded, "Yes. I used to come here occasionally, with my parents, before.., " he voice tailed off. She didn't need to say any more.

Steve nodded, "So that's why you suggested this place?"

Friday nodded, "Partly, and secondly you said it was your treat. I'm now a poor school teacher, you’re the professional spy remember."

Steve smiled, "I don't know about that. Your doing pretty well. It seems as though we've hardly had time to breathe over the last few weeks."

Friday flicked her hair back away from her face, "To be honest I feel as though I've been doing crap. I've been reacting to events, not creating the events in the first place. Those kids…"

"Those kids are now alive, because of what you did. If you had obeyed orders then more would have died. The three that did are a tragic loss, but you will always get no win scenarios," Steve interrupted.

"I don't believe in a no win scenario. It's just an excuse for saying I didn't try hard enough. There is always a solution. It may be painful and it may seem a no win situation but it isn't. There is always a way out of any trap, or any situation, "Friday explained.

"Friday, not being rude but that's crap. You've told me about what happened a few months ago. There was no way you could save all those people. It was a no win situation. Just accept it, I think it'll help."

"What the hell do you know about what went on! You only know what I told you! I should have been able to find a way. I should have realized that the Guild had started warhead production earlier. It was my mistake. I should have waited until we stopped the changelings before taking down the Guild! Can we change the subject please," Friday had wanted to shout at Steve, but instead her voice came out just quietly sad.

The subject change was enforced on them, as the waiter came over and asked if they were ready to order. Friday requested a few more minutes and the waiter duly went away.

"Look, they have a qualified Fugu chef," Friday pointed at the back of the menu.

"Puffer fish?" Steve queried.

Friday nodded, "I've not had it cooked before. I used to eat it raw just after I got my C.O. I used to adapt my body to negate pretty much all the effects of Tetrodotoxin and just keep the nice effects of euphoria. Ah ok maybe I won't have it then, it's $2,000. I'll just have the sushi platter," she could see the relief on Steve's face.

"Same here I think. Must be useful having a body that can create an antidote to most poisons," Steve commented.

"Most commons ones are easy to do, as I know their effects and what the molecule looks like. Even nasty stuff like Sarin is ok because I can regenerate the affected nerves, and produce anti toxins before it takes hold. Any esoteric poisons or custom made ones are more difficult until I've had chance to analyze them properly. That's how I killed the last Guild changeling, he didn't know he was poisoned or even what with, so he didn't have a chance.

"You told me, " Steve said interestedly.

"I know, "Friday's voiced tailed off as she noticed the waiter walk towards them.

A minute or so later they'd placed their order and the waiter left.

"We've spent all night talking about me, we never talk about you," Friday commented.

"Me? I'm trying to get back in to the swing of things. So much has changed since I was captured. I mean that whole millennium bug was a huge deal when I flew out, and it all turns out to be a big con. I bet those survivalists in Montana are real pissed they spent all their money on fallout shelters," Steve said with a smile.

"That's what I mean. We've been partners for over a month and yet I still feel as though I don't know you," Why was Steve being evasive?

Steve gave a laugh, "I'm really not that interesting. Let me see. Grew up in South Dakota, got a scholarship, went to Quantico and spent ten years in the Marines. Then the CIA came calling and I decided to join up as a field agent. As for not really knowing me, that's not surprising. I've spent my life avoiding letting people know who I am. Then in the POW hell hole I just kept things bottled up. You don't survive any other way. I guess it's just force of habit."

"I guess we're similar like that. It's strange, when I'm someone else. I mean pretending to be someone else it's like the NSB doesn't exist, only Friday," Friday found herself opening up a little. It helped.

Friday watched Steve's rugged face take on a thinking expression. He was obviously thinking who NSB was, "NSB Ah yes. Her. How much of you is her and how much is Friday?"

"I really have no idea. To be honest I feel like some kind of wraith, a being with no soul and only a memory of once being alive. I'm simply existing, doing what I have to do in an attempt to gain some kind of peace. Friday is simply who I am right now. Some days, I get a glimpse of what little humanity remains in me, like after I rescued those kids at school. But, that's all it is a fleeting, stolen glance," Friday looked away from Steve, she didn't want him to see how she was feeling. Conflicting emotions rose up inside her. If she didn't want him to see, then why did she just open up?

She felt Steve take hold of her hand, "It must be hard living with so much pain inside. You have to let it go, otherwise it will bury you."

For one moment she felt like snatching her hand away, but Steve's touch was comforting in a small way. At the moment she would take any comfort she could get, "That's what I'm trying to do. Let it go in the only way I know how."

Steve gently withdrew is hand, the moment had passed, "We'll talk more on this later. I've been wondering something else?"

"Oh?" Friday said, maybe Steve was right.

"How much do you miss being a doctor?" Steve asked.

"Lot's. It's not the status or the money that I miss, it's being able to help people directly. It's all I ever wanted to do, even from being a little girl. I didn't know or appreciate it at the time, but when I was working for Dad was some of the happiest times in my life. Sure there were hard times, such as breaking bad news to a patient or their next of kin. But seeing the relief and joy wash over people's faces as I told them their loved ones would live or were better made up for it a hundred fold."

Steve nodded in approval, "It's a shame they'll never let you practice medicine again. From what your file said you were one hell of a doctor.

It felt good about being complimented by Steve, "Thanks. I was never sure which I preferred more, working in ER or as a surgeon. ER had a real buzz about it, although some nights it would get really dull as all you'd get is drunks who'd fallen into or off something. It was hard, but rewarding work. Sometimes I'd do 14 or even 20 hour stints, and not even blink about it, of course I was a lot younger then," Friday gave Steve a smile.

Steve returned the grin, "You don't look a day over 24, must be good to lose a few years whenever you feel like it."

"My age varies with my soul," Friday replied cryptically.

"That was quick," Friday commented as he spotted the waiter bringing their meal over.

"They must want us out of here," Steve said wryly.

"Probably, come on eat up I've got a school day tomorrow."

16. A Splintering Heart
-----------------------------

It was past eleven pm by the time they arrived home, and in spite of herself Friday found that she'd enjoyed the evening a great deal. For just one night she felt normal again and it was welcome relief.

Steve bade her goodnight and she retired to her bedroom and after taking her Stelazine was soon asleep.

She found herself standing on a hill overlooking a middle eastern city, the gold turrets of mosques glittered in bright sunlight, tall buildings reflected back the sun almost dazzling her. On every road traffic was building up, people going to and from work and school. Cutting thru the middle of the city was a large eight line highway, and it was already full of cars. Obviously it was rush hour.

A battered oil tanker caught her eye, it was slowly moving to the outskirts of the city.

"Stop that tanker!" she shouted out. It was happening yet again.

No one was around to hear her. She scrambled down the hill towards the city and spotted a second and a third tanker moving into position.

She sprinted down until she came to a dusty tarmac'd road. It wasn't far to the outskirts of the city, if only she could get there in time, just the once it would be ok. She'd now lost sight of the tankers but knew where they had gone. Breathlessly she ran to the nearest highway and from the other side of the road spotted a phone.

Dodging traffic she sprinted across the road, barging people out of the way on the sidewalk to the phone, picked it up and swore heavily as there was no dial tone. Suddenly from above her head there was a loud explosion, followed by repeated bangs that echoed right across the sky, "NOO!" She shouted as she saw a fine pinkish mist float down from the sky.

A small boy, no more than four years old was the first to scream out in pain. Red lesions formed on his face and arms and started to bleed thick red blood. The boy's mother tried to calm her son down but now her face too was splitting open in deep red gashes. All around her people were screaming and clutching their faces and arms and collapsing to the ground.

The young boy's face was slowly being eaten away by the pink mist now covering the entire city. The flesh on his cheeks had almost gone leaving the whiteish bone of his jaw, his eyes were bulging with pain as they slowly dissolved away. His mother's once delicate skin was hanging off in great rips and folds of flesh as she too succumbed to the effects of the mist.

All she could hear were the screams of the dying, that echoed around from every direction until they swamped her mind. She tried to close her eyes and pressed her hands over her ears, but something stopped her.

She sank to her knees, sobbing and trying desperately to look away from the young boy, but their eyes were locked together, only inches apart. Her screams joined with his as inch by inch his flesh was eaten away. She could see his skull and jawbone start to soften and yet his eyes still stayed riveted to hers. Pleading with her to make it stop, make the pain go away.

She was screaming so loud it hurt her lungs and yet she was still unable to move from her position only a few inches away from the dying child. The boy lifted a small childlike hand towards her, palm outstretched, his eyes still unaffected by the weapon were blurred with tears of pain and terror. The fingers on the boys hand started to melt and within moments the bone was showing thru the rapidly dissolving skin.

She tried to take her eyes away, she would do anything not to look at his stricken and ruined face but her legs were too weak to move, so she did the only thing she could, scream in anguish.

Friday felt herself being shaken awake, "Friday!"

It took her a few moments to recover from being sound asleep.

"Friday, are you ok. You were screaming in your sleep again."

Friday felt tears in her eyes, and she brushed them away "Oh God! Steve?"

"Was it the Tel Aviv Dream again?" Steve asked, concern showing in his blue eyes.

Friday nodded, "Steve, it was horrible. There was this little boy…"

Steve sat down on the bed next to Friday, "Would it helped if you told me about it?"

Friday shook her head, "Just hold me."

Friday felt Steve's arms draw her closer into his chest, it felt good to be there. She buried her head into his chest and cried her heart out. For his part Steve just gently tousled her copper red hair, "It'll be ok," he whispered.

"Oh Steve, I'm so fucked up!" Friday sniffed thru her tears.

Steve took his arm away from Friday and turned to face her, "Over dinner, you called yourself a wraith, someone with no soul and of simply existing. The state of you proves otherwise. When I first knew who you were, I thought you were a monster, someone on a par with the worst figures in history. But then I got to know you. I don't think I've ever met such a remarkable person. You say that you've lost your humanity and compassion, but I don't believe it. You were prepared to die to save those kids at the airport, in the missions you've been on you've only taken life where yours or that of others was threatened. This job we do can be tough, but no more so than deciding the fate of a patient in your care. When you were a doctor you had to make life and death decisions all the time. This is no different. Whatever you decide in whatever you do I'm here for you."

Buried emotions, hidden away from even her innermost thoughts and feelings suddenly surfaced within her. To Steve's astonishment, she leant forward and kissed him passionately on the lips.

It wasn’t anything either of them had planned on, and it began to happen before either of them could decide whether that was what they really wanted. Steve’s simple "I’m here for you" and her kiss of gratitude were all that it took. As she pulled back she saw that Steve’s eyes were still closed. He never closed his eyes, not altogether, not when anyone else was nearby – he’d learned early in his career undercover and then as a POW to trust no one, keep an eye on everyone, just in case. Yet here he was leaning back against a sofa cushion with his eyes closed. She kissed him again.

His eyes still closed, unmoving, his expression almost blissful, he suddenly said, "Do you know what Talleyrand said when the news of Metternich’s death was brought to him? Or vice versa, I forget which one of those two Prime Ministers died first? I once studied the cunning ways they’d tried all their lives to trick and out-fox each other.."

"No, I don’t know," Friday answered, wondering where Steve’s mind had wandered. Was this what he thought about when a girl kissed him? Political history? Had he been out there under cover on his own for too long? "What did one of those old foxes say when he heard the other one had had died?"

"He said, ‘I wonder what he means by that!’ " Steve opened his eyes and looked at her. Then he said gently, "You’ve kissed me twice. I wonder what you mean by that."

"You know!" Friday, said, relief flooding through her. He didn’t mind at all! She kissed him a third time, this time tentatively licking his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth, and she realized that he’d taken her into his arms.

"Yes, I do, " he said. "I think I do, I think I do, I think I do!"

"You’re the little engine that could?" she asked him with a smile. She’d never seen him this playful.

Steve suddenly gathered himself and stood up. Then with one motion he pulled Friday up by taking her hands, and lifted her up in both arms. She felt suddenly helpless. "Wha…?" she started to say.

"I am," Steve replied. "I can, too. Your bedroom or mine?"

A single sob came out of her, and then months of anguished solitude overwhelmed her. She seized him around the neck and kissed his face over and over, sobbing the whole time, as he carried her into her bedroom and laid her down gently on the bedcovers. Then he lay down next to her and began to stroke her tear-streaked cheek.

"Oh, Steve, I ….."

"Shhh," he replied. "I know that too. Tonight’s for you. The whole night. You can ask me anything and it’s yours, all night long if that’s how you want it. As long as I can manage it, that is. " He grinned a little ruefully. "But there are two rules."

"What?" Friday asked him softly.

"The first sounds like an old love song, and maybe that’s what it is. Don’t ever change. Not tonight, anyhow. I want you as you are, just as you are, no body modifications to meet special needs, not for you and not for me. We’re who we are."

"Yes," Friday said, suddenly feeling unspeakably happy. "We are!"

"And you can do anything you want with me. I know you like to take charge of things sometimes. If you want me tied up and helpless while you work your will on my body, that’s fine. I’ll keep my arms and legs wherever you place them, and I won’t move them no matter what, no matter what you want to do to me or how you want me, spread eagled or bent backward. I swear I will, you can trust me on that. But the second rule is, no tying me up. I can’t stand being tied up. A prison guard tried it one night, I suppose he intended to beat me for the fun of it, lots of them were like that. But before he got both my hands secured I snapped. And then I had to get rid of his body before they could find it and trace it back to me. I don’t want to get rid of your body, not for a long time."

Friday smiled. "That’s lovely, Steve. But don’t worry. I know that when a man buys a girl Sushi, she’s expected to repay him afterward. And that’s what I mean to do. Repay you. For more than Sushi. I need you. I’ve needed this, needed someone to be with me in the dark places I exist in; needed you, now!"

"I know," he said. "Aren’t you ever going to take off those clothes of yours?"

"Aren’t you?" she asked him. "What’s keeping you?" And as she reached for the buttons on his shirt, in her own mind she opened herself to him utterly.

17. Heart on a knife edge
------------------------------

Friday awoke the next day, and stretched an arm out to see if Steve was still there. The other side of the bed was empty, except for a single flower that Steve had placed on his pillow.

She checked the clock on her bedside table, it was nearly 7:20 and time to get up. She swung her legs out of bed and selected her outfit for the day. a neat long brown skirt, with a burnt ochre colored blouse and her black comfortable shoes. She emerged from her room and headed towards the shower.

She almost collided with Steve on the way there, and there was an awkward few seconds as their eyes met, "No regrets?" Steve asked clumsily.

"None," Friday replied and kissed Steve gently on the cheek. It had been a wild night for sure, and yet she felt lighter and happier than she had for the first time in months.

"It's getting late, and you need to.." Steve started to say, with a hint of embarrassment.

"Go? Yes I'd better, I'll see you tonight," Friday replied and walked off towards the shower.

During the journey to school Friday's mind was a conflict of emotions. Logically speaking she felt as though she should stay well away from getting involved with Steve and treat last night as a one night stand. However she then felt guilty over using Steve as a crutch for her own problems. Apart from Matthew, Steve had been the first person she'd given herself to since Cathline. The question of the day was did she love him? Or was he just someone who happened to be there when she was feeling at her most vulnerable?

For sure, the answer wouldn't be straightforward, but her instincts said to slow things down a little and sort her own feelings out first, and yet there was the other part of her that just wanted him for the feelings it had aroused and awakened in her. Could she stand being rejected once more? And would her psychosis return if and when she was. She'd never been one for the 'no strings sex' line, she didn't believe that it was possible, someone always ended up getting hurt. These were all good questions and she hoped that she'd find the answers by the time she saw Steve next.

There was a line of children of all ages holding a banner that read 'Welcome back Mrs. Carrell' waiting for her as she drew into the parking lot. Principal Collier and a few of the other staff were there helping hold the banner up, as was a pretty girl on crutches. After parking the car, much to her embarrassment she was greeted by cheers and much clapping from the waiting students. She put up a hand in greeting to the crowd, smiled and simply said "Thank you," it was all she could manage.

The kids crowded around her as she walked into school, questions and congratulations were being fired at her from all directions and it was all she could do, to wave them away with a "later, just let me get to class."

At last, she opened the door into her classroom, walked in and left the crowd behind. Being the focus of media attention was nothing like being the focus of a hoard of high school kids. She checked her watch, she had twenty minutes before her first class, just enough time to set up.

There was a knock at the door, "Ms Carrell?" It was Principal Collier.

"Come in Principal," Friday called out. Although she wanted to be left alone, she had an obligation to see him.

Principal Collier walked in, closing the door behind him. "Ms Carrell. I'm glad to have you back. I hope your convalescence has left you feeling better?"

Friday nodded, "I'm glad to be back and yes thank you. I'm feeling much better, if a little sore in my shoulder."

"That's good. Your class has asked when you will be coming back every day. You made quite an impact on them."

Friday smiled, it felt good to be appreciated for something more than her ability to kill, "To be honest, I missed them too. Anything I should know before I setup for the lesson?"

"Not much. Things are pretty much as you left them. I just wanted to drop in to see how you were and to thank you once more," Principal Collier fidgeted slightly, giving away his intent that he wanted the conversation to end.

Friday picked up on this, "Look, you'd better get going. I've still got to set up for my first class."

"Thanks," Principal Collier replied and turned to leave.

After he'd closed the door behind him Friday stood up, consulted her lesson plan and started to get things ready. It would almost be like her first day on the job again.

Time rushed by and she'd just managed to finish when the first of her class walked in, still chattering and laughing from their conversations outside.

Friday stood up behind the desk, waiting for them to file in, "Ok class, settle down!" she ordered when they were all in. She suspected not many of them would skip this lesson as it would give them a chance to gossip about her afterwards.

It took less than a minute for them to quiet down. A new record she smiled to herself, "I see from the notes that Mr. Parker left you were doing cell mitosis. Before we carry on where he left off, do you have any questions?"

A boy at the back, Richard Ellis stuck his hand up, "Yes Richard?" Friday asked.

"What happened to the boys who shot Angela?" He asked.

She thought this might happen, "I don't know. It's all in the hands of the police."

Another hand shot up, a brunette girl with a short bob hairstyle, "Does your arm still hurt Miss?"

"Sometimes Carolyn, but it'll slowly get better."

Ten more hands shot up.

"Of the ten people who's hands are up, how many of those are to do with Cellular Mitosis?" Friday asked.

Ten hands went down again, followed shortly afterwards by ten disappointed faces.

Knowing she'd not get any concentration from the class until she at least answered some of them, Friday decided to compromise, "The first three people to put their hands up will get to ask a question. After that we move on. On my mark. Three, two one, Mark!"

Fifteen hands shot up almost at the same time, but her quick eye picked out the three who went first, "William Jones you were first."

"Angela said that when you were shot, you didn't even flinch but kept on going. Why's that?"

"The body is an amazing system. If your mind is so focused on a task it's possible to ignore the pain signals from other parts of the body. We're doing about nerve impulses in a few weeks time so let's come back to that then. Mark Atkins you were next."

William nodded in satisfaction at the answer.

"The rumor is, is that you moved so fast they could hardly see you. You totally rocked, how can you move that fast? Are you a superhero?"

Friday gave a smile, "Arch villainess more like! Seriously no I'm not a superhero. I've been doing martial arts since about the age of six, and I've studied under some of the best sensei's in the country since then. From what I was told the kids were high on drugs at the time so that combined with my martial arts training is what led them to believe they saw what they saw. One question left, and try and make it one that the police haven't already asked me. Alison you were next!"

"What did it feel like when you broke those boys ankles and ribs. The news said one of them will walk with a limp from now on, the other was terrified of what you said to him. Wasn't there another way of dealing with it, apart from maiming them?"

Various class members shot Alison a pointed disapproving look. For her part the question stung Friday at her heart, she decided to settle the issue once and for all, "How many of you saw that incident in Seattle nearly a week ago? You know the one where the FBI agent got nearly blown to bits saving some kids from a terrorist."

A few heads nodded.

"What would you have done if you were her?" Friday asked. What she was doing was not without risk, but for herself she needed to know what those who hadn't been tainted by death and killing thought. She hoped it would gain her some relief.

"I'd have shot the terrorists," Andrew commented.

"Yes, but if you notice the terrorists were holding lengths of string, one tug say from falling over and all the kids die. Alison what would you have done?"

"I'd have tried to talk them out of it," She said meekly.

"And tell them what?" Friday asked.

"That if they let the kids go, they can go too," Alison replied thoughtfully.

"But how do they know you won't just shoot them as soon as they let go? They don't. They wouldn't go for it."

"I don't know then," Alison replied sullenly.

"You'd have done what that FBI agent did. Her first instinct was to save the kids, no matter the cost to herself. Now let's put this into the context we were talking about. Me. I did what I had to do to save Angela's life and that of many more people in the school. Did I enjoy hurting those kids, no. Did I scare one of them witless? Yes. If you want to know what I said to him I'll tell you," Friday paused for effect. She didn't want her punch line to be diluted.

In the same menacing tone she'd used on the boy gunman she said, "I asked him if it hurt and queried whether I should have killed him. I then informed him that the rasping sound he was making as he breathed was his lung collapsing against his shattered ribcage. I then told him he was lucky and made sure he'd be ok for when the police turned up," Friday glanced around the room the majority of the class were looking at her in horror.

"The points I'm trying to make is that what I did wasn't glamorous, or cool, nor did I 'Rock' I did what I needed to do to save lives. This wasn't some spy TV show or movie; it was real life, with real people and very real consequences. Sometimes I think we forget that. In any case for what it's worth I would do the same again, for any one of you. Now we really must get on, open your books to page 411 please," inwardly Friday gave a big smile, the looks on the kids faces told her one thing. She had won the battle for their hearts forever. It gave her a unique feeling of satisfaction, like seeing a patient recover from a delicate operation. Today would be a good day.

--- oo ---

Friday arrived home before Steve, feeling more satisfied than she had for ages. She'd held the same kind of Q&A session in each one of her classes that day. She figured it best to get it all over with so she could get on with the real task, that of trying to teach. She'd just got her stuff unpacked when she heard a key being turned in the lock, Steve called out a cheerful "Hi!"

Friday decided to get her thoughts out in the open as soon as possible, so seated herself at the table in the living room.

"Ut oh, this looks formal." Steve commented on seeing Friday sat down.

"We need to talk," Friday said.

"Um ok," Steve said warily and sat down.

"I've been wracking my brains all day as to what to do about last night. I've no regrets at all, it's just I want to know what next?" Friday said softly.

"I've been thinking the same thing all day too. What do you think?" Steve asked sincerely. Friday noticed a degree of confusion in his eyes. How did he want this to go?

"I think I want to take this slower. I've got such a lot of baggage that a full on relationship will just add more, but then I think that maybe it's what I need to help get rid of some of it. I don't want to use you as a crutch for my own issues. Yet part of me wants to go at this full on, be reckless and see where it all leads."

Steve face lit up in smile, "So you have about as much idea about this as I have?"

Friday smiled back, "That's about right."

"Let's see how it goes. If it happens it happens, if it doesn't then maybe it's not meant to be. If this is right, it can wait," Steve replied thoughtfully.

Friday reached over and took hold of Steve's hand, "Thank you," she replied. Maybe this would work out after all.

Steve politely withdrew his hand, "Make sure you finish on time tomorrow, we've got a debrief on the Seattle incident plus some more intel on what Alexi was up to. I'll already be there, so make your way there from school as soon as you can. I also have to go out in an hour or so, I'm not sure what time I'll be back so don't wait up."

Friday sighed inwardly, she'd hoped to have an evening in with Steve to help clarify or even cement what they'd agreed on. "I need to plan tomorrow anyway and an early night would be ideal, especially as I didn't get much last night!" She gave Steve a loving smile

"Me neither and thank you," Steve replied.

"I need to go and shower, you got time to order Pizza?" Friday asked a little awkwardly. She felt as though she ought to say something else on the matter, but at the moment they had said all they needed to,

"Medium sized Farmhouse, thin crust?" Steve queried

Friday nodded, "You know me too well!"

Steve returned the grin ,"That's what I'm here for!"

By the time Friday had emerged from the shower, and had dried and combed her hair the Pizza had arrived and Steve was tucking into his extra large sizzling spicy beef pizza, "It's only just arrived. Your bland cheesy queasy is in the oven."

Friday ignored Steve's comment on her taste in pizzas and headed towards the kitchen. Using a knife she re-cut the slices and piled them onto a clean plate."

"This is better," she commented, walking into the living room Pizza in hand.

Steve put down his third slice of Pizza, "This is one of the things I really missed when I was in captivity. I used to dream about spicy pizza, so excuse me if I indulge myself."

"When I was in exile, I used to dream about any hot food. When all you can eat pretty much day to day is raw fish, you really want anything heated up," Friday said, picking up a slice.

"Exile? I don't remember reading about that?" Steve queried.

"You must have done. I was shot with an experimental version of my drug, one I'd developed as a particularly nasty punishment for whoever my twisted brain targeted. I shot Kat with another version, remember now?"

"That's right!" Steve exclaimed, "Turned you into a mermaid. It wasn't until the Guild captured you that you got the chance to turn yourself back and develop the changeling organ."

Friday nodded, "At first I seethed at what had happened to me, but you know what. Those months and years of solitude helped me regain my sanity and perspective on things. Part of me still misses the sea and being able to dive and forget myself for a while."

"Is that why you sit at the bottom of the swimming pool so much?" Steve asked.

"Partly yes. Steve, I saw things there that no one has ever seen. I saw where sharks go to die, colors beyond imagining and brutality beyond belief. I saw where man was destroying the planet, a coral reef at a time and vowed to do anything to stop it. I can't put into words what I saw and witnessed during that time, only that it had a profound effect on me."

"You sound as though you'd go back if you could," Steve said taking another bite.

"Sometimes I wish I could, but then what chance would I have to gain peace? I'd still have a broken soul, still be a wraith among the living and while the dead still scream my name in my nightmares how could I ever find that peace. So I do what needs to be done. I serve my time and my penance as best I can."

"For what it's worth I'm here any time you need me," Steve replied compassionately.

"I know, thank you," Friday replied.

"We'll talk more on this later, but Heinlein will have my ass if I'm not there on time. Feel free to finish the rest off," Steve said and placed the remains of his pizza on the table.

"I'm sure I've got some biohazard stickers somewhere…" Friday joked.

Steve stood up to leave, "See you later," he gave Friday a small peck on the cheek. Friday pulled him back and gave him kiss on the lips and whispered, "Thank you!"

"No problem. See you later."

As she watched Steve walk away Friday thought 'so much for taking it slow' part of her wanted to take him, right there on the carpet right now; but in the end her analytical careful self won the argument. What was causing these conflicting feelings?

She finished off her Pizza in silence, inwardly debating her feelings for Steve.

--- oo ---

Steve was back too late to discuss things further and he wasn't up by the time Friday got up and retrieved Steve's copy of the Washington post from the doorstep. Normally she waited until she got to the table to have a glance at the headlines but today the sight of the word 'Guild' grabbed her attention.

"Guild Splinter group confirmed."

Kismet Assad, the new leader of the former terrorist organization known as the Guild confirmed today the existence of a splinter group formed from those loyal to its deposed leader Hassan. The Guild, now under full UN control has promised to do everything in its power to deal with this splinter group before it can gain a foothold in the region.

Under the recently signed peace treaty between the Arab Alliance and Israel it is the Guild's responsibility to act upon threats to it's newly found legitimate status. With the disappearance of Salah, the Guild commander who helped orchestrate the treaty and the suicide of the treaty's architect, Dr Elizabeth Bexley it remains to be seen how Kismet and the rest of the Guild can deal with this new threat to the region."

Friday folded up the newspaper and stormed into the kitchen where Steve was just making coffee.

"Why the fuck wasn't I told about this!" she swore at Steve and threw the newspaper at him.

"What?" Steve remarked and picked the remains of the newspaper from the floor.

Friday stood there arms folded, fuming as Steve read the front page.

"Ah that!" Steve commented.

"Yes that! Don't you think I should have been told that the Guild was back?" Friday snapped.

Steve sighed, "Ok, firstly you're not on the Guild Splinter Group case, if there is one, so why do you need to be told about it? Secondly, we can't go snooping in where we're not invited in. Under the terms of the treaty; which you drafted by the way it's a Guild internal matter UNTIL they ask for our help."

"So you knew about this?" Friday sniped. Steve had a point, but she wasn't going to let go that easily.

"Not really. But gut feel and common sense said that those parts of the Guild loyal to Hassan weren't all going to fall in line and play nice. I'm sure you knew that too!" Steve explained calmly.

Friday nodded, "I did, and that's why I put the relevant articles in the treaty. But Kismet worries me, he always seemed to be less capable that both Hassan and Salah. At the time there was no one else we trusted to do the job and the rest of the Guild commanders wouldn't have agreed to the main part of the treaty if we'd have said that the UN would take control of Guild internal affairs. They may have wanted legitimacy, but they do have some pride left. I just hope Kismet is up to the job."

"As I said, it's none of our business. I guess the agency wanted us well away from it in case it ruined our objectivity. If they want us, they’ll ask," Steve explained.

"Damn you!" Friday swore.

"Now what have I done?"

"Sometimes you're too damned reasonable," Friday's anger broke with a smile. Steve was right of course, and yet this new information worried her. She'd give Heinlein a provocative prod when they met later on today.

Steve smiled back, "I try to be. You need to get going or else you'll be late. Don't forget the debrief this afternoon."

"As if I could," Friday said innocently. She was looking forward to the encounter already.

18. No Win scenario
-------------------------

All the way thru the day Friday couldn't keep the news about a Guild splinter group from her mind. Steve had been right, anyone who thought that those who had sworn loyalty to Hassan would simply give up was very naïve. Steve, also had made the point that she wasn't involved with any counter terrorist activity and that in reality she didn't need to know. However, she was confident that no one in the CIA knew the way the Guild under Hassan operated as much as she did, after all she had spent nearly a year planning a way of taking them down. In the end her solution, that of dumping the entire Guild database to the internet and that of provoking a revolt had worked better than she could have dreamed. It worked too well, she lamented. The Guild changelings already in place in government had no one to give them instructions to stop the plan to get Israel to attack Egypt, so they had carried on with the resulting nuclear attack on Cairo.

She had killed the Guild too early, a mistake that had cost over thirteen million lives. Her mind almost couldn't comprehend that many dead, and every single one haunted her every hour of every day. Now, the very worst parts of that organization were back in business although what they were planning and what their resources were she couldn't even start to guess. She would, she decided offer her services to Heinlein in their debrief today. Apart from going it alone she had no other option, and even then she had no idea where to start looking.

It was a little past 4pm when she packed up her books ready to go to the debrief, and got into her car and drove to the office building where Heinlein and Steve were waiting for her. She tried park in the underground parking lot, but judging by the presence of several works vans in and around the lot it was closed off for some maintenance. Friday parked her car in the overflow parking lot to the side of the building, flashed her ID to security and took the lift to the third floor.

"Come in," she heard Heinlein call as she knocked on the large wooden double doors leading to the conference room.

Friday opened the doors and saw Heinlein in his usual position at the head of a large mahogany table. Steve was sat down at his left hand side and had taken the trouble to put on his gray suit. "Friday, take a seat," Heinlein said calmly.

Friday walked to end of the table and sat down next to Heinlein, "Thank you," she said politely.

"Before we start. I have a present for you, Steve, if you please, "Heinlein said cordially.

She noticed Steve reach down and pass Heinlein a briefcase, when Heinlein then opened. "Here you are," he said and tossed Friday a video cassette.

"What's on it?" Friday asked innocently.

"Your insurance speech. We found it under the pavement of your parent's house. Quite well hidden, but a bit of an obvious place don't you think?"

"I'm surprised it took you so long to find it. Still, you won’t know if it's the only copy or just a decoy I planted. I suspect you think it's just a decoy and was hoping I'd give something away. I've got an IQ of over165 not 16, still it was worth a go." Friday said calmly. She decided to leave it at that.

Friday caught an almost imperceptible smile from Heinlein. She had him by the balls and he knew it, "As you say, it was worth a go. But we won't stop looking, and trust me one day we will find it."

"It'll be interesting to see how it all plays out. By the way I take it Steve's told you about the Washington Post article," Friday decided that it was better not to taunt Heinlein anymore than necessary.

"He did, and what he told you was correct. We've got some people on it already, or that's what I was told. Guild investigations is beyond my clearance levels so I'm afraid I'm just as in the dark as you are. Steve also told me that you'd want to offer you services to help out."

Friday nodded, "That's right sir."

"I'm afraid your request is denied. Your credentials rely on the fact of who you really are. Your identity is worth more than your ability to help root out an isolated splinter group. We couldn't put you into help without revealing who you are. Otherwise people would ask where we found a Guild expert all of a sudden, where previously we had none. So in the short term, it's wait and see," Heinlein explained.

Friday sighed, once again she was being cut out of important information and once again Heinlein had a reasonable explanation for doing so. "I understand sir."

"Good. Glad to hear it. One more thing before we start. Steve, would you mind leaving us for a few moments," Heinlein requested.

Steve glanced across at Friday as if to say 'He's going to ask about us', stood up and left the room.

Once Steve had left the room Heinlein turned to face Friday once more. "Friday, excuse the personal question. But what is the status of your relationship with Agent Grayson?"

Friday wondered what Steve had told him, and decided that being candid was the best course of action, "We're close friends."

"Nothing more?" Heinlein queried. Clearly he didn't believe her answer.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just asking. You spend a lot of time together and I wanted to know if there was anything that could jeopardize either yours or his mission capabilities. For example, if you had the choice between achieving a vital mission or saving his life which would you choose?"

The Bastard! "That's an impossible question."

Heinlein smiled, "Of course it is, but since I'm allowed to ask such questions and demand an answer I'm doing so now."

"If the mission was of such importance that it demanded the sacrifice of Steve or my life I'd do it. I think the Seattle incident proved my motives in that respect," Friday smiled to herself. She'd answered the question without giving Heinlein what he was really looking for in the answer.

Heinlein gave a wry nod of approval, "A clever answer, " he raised his voice again, "Steve you can come back in now."

Steve opened the door and walked back to his seat, he glanced across at Friday as if to say 'Well?"

"Now we've got all the distractions out of the way, onto the real business," Heinlein stated.

'At last!" Friday said under her breath.

If Heinlein heard her, he didn't take any notice. "Firstly well done both of you, on recovering the changeling organ. Friday, that was an exceptional piece of work you did back there. But what you did was foolish and overly dangerous. You have a reputation for cautious action, not harebrained instinctive recklessness. Your action has caused the agency a lot of trouble over the last week and we've had to instigate several clean up actions to ensure that your cover remains intact. So far it's all quiet and is looking good, but in all honesty it's too early to be sure. We could have lost a valuable asset and in future you should consider the long term ramifications of what and how you do things."

Friday simply replied, "I see," she was about to launch into a defense of her actions, but then decided against it. What was the point, Heinlein would simply ignore it.

"Now onto the heart of the matter. We eventually persuaded Daryl to co-operate and he told us that he was tasked with delivering the package to Alexi Ivanov's compound at Serebryany Bor. He didn't know the full details of what he was being asked to smuggle in, only that it was the basis for some biological research Alexi was doing. Naturally, he didn't know that you had already dealt with Alexi only that now the operation was burned."

"Did he expand on why or what Alexi wanted with the changeling organ?" Friday asked.

"Only that he confirmed what Dr Abramovich told us, that it was some kind of gene therapy. We're happy we have the link from Alexi's brand of Russian Mafia to the stolen changeling organ, and that it was indeed from TGen they intended to get it from. That means that we've denied the Russian Mafia from obtaining your particular brand of bio technology," Heinlein expanded.

"So why no champagne?" Friday asked.

"Because we still don't know exactly why Alexi wanted the changeling organ, and that concerns us. It's also this, Steve if you please,"

Steve bent down and retrieved a clear plastic evidence bag and passed it to Friday.

Friday took it and examined its contents, "It looks like a hollow bullet. The tip looks to be some kind of alloy and the clear plastic surround looks as though it should contain some kind of chemical. By the size of it, it looks like it'll fit a heavy caliber NATO rifle."

Heinlein nodded, "That's our guess. The casing is actually designed to split once the round has entered the body, releasing whatever agent is meant to be inside into the bloodstream of the victim. It was found in one of the spare magazines that Daryl was carrying with him."

"What was inside the bullet?" Friday asked.

"Nothing, just air. We think that it was meant to be filled with whatever Alexi was developing. What would be your guess?" Heinlein asked.

Friday thought for a few moments, tapping her fingers against her pursed lips, "As I see it there are three mysteries that combine to make up a larger one. Firstly I know Dr Abramovich he would never agree to develop bio-weapons or poisons, no matter the threats to him or his family. My guess is that Alexi wanted to corner the market in some form of legit gene therapy. Secondly, He couldn't use traditional laboratories because even having a changeling organ would be enough to bring the security services down on him like a ton of bricks, so he'd have to use one in a secure location such as his compound. Thirdly, having access to a changeling organ would allow massive flexibility in his gene therapy products and would probably be worth billions in the pharmaceuticals market. Dr Abramovich would gladly work on something of benefit to mankind, especially if it would vindicate his own disgraced theories."

"So you think that Alexi was using Abramovich to develop cutting edge bio-tech to license to the big drugs companies. That would fit in with what Abramovich told us," Heinlein commented.

Friday shrugged, "As to what could be put inside that fancy bullet? I have no idea, maybe something as simple as cyanide. Maybe Alexi was going to use a by product of Dr Abramovich's gene therapy work as a kind of genetic weapon in a bullet."

"My God, you have it! Heinlein exclaimed. It was the first time Friday had seen him excited.

By now Friday's mind was working at full capacity and power, "It fits! As part of the development of the legitimate drugs, you'd always have a few failures! You'd create some drugs that didn't cure people but had an effect on them similar to that of the bioweapon the Guild used. Instead of replacing a single gene it would scramble the entire DNA strand, it would be a de-sequencer. All Alexi would need to do is find out which one had the desired effect and insert it into these bullets. Fuck! If you were smart enough you could tailor the drug to be specific to a particular gene sequence."

"Meaning what?" Steve asked.

"Meaning you'd have the world's first racist weapon. Every people group on the planet has certain genes which mark them out to be members of that people group. You could shoot… Oh fuck, fuck fuck!" A cold chill ran down Friday's spine..

"What?" Heinlein asked.

"Dr Abramovich's specializes in bacteria, what if you combined the racist genetic de-sequencer with one of his tailored bacteria. You wouldn't tell him that's what it was of course, but the net effect would be that you would have a biological weapon that targeted only a certain people group. If your genetic profile didn't match a certain criteria then you'd die, if it did you'd live."

"The far right and Neo Nazi's would love that!" Steve commented grimly.

"The only comfort we have is that Alexi doesn't have Abramovich or the changeling organ any more. So he can't do any of this," Heinlein commented.

Friday nodded, now she realized the import of the missions she had been on. "Yeah, Mind you I was just speculating in the last bit. More likely Alexi was going to create a new generation of gene therapy and use any 'accidents' in it's development as a poison to fill in those hollow bullets. If the effects were similar to that of the Guild's weapon, the body would dissolve into a protein soup leaving no trace of who it was. It'd be the ideal assassination weapon," Friday placed the bag with bullet in back on the table.

"Good work Friday, we'll pass this…"

Suddenly there was an ear deafening bang, and the ground shook under them. Instinctively Friday launched herself at Steve and Heinlein, covering them as best she could as glass and metal ricocheted around the room. There was a loud crash as part of the ceiling gave way, showering them with debris and pieces of plastic ceiling tile. Seconds later the fire alarm went off, followed by the sprinklers.

The immediate danger over Friday stood up and helped Steve and Heinlein to their feet, "Must have been bomb, a big one," She commented.

"No shit!" Steve remarked, brushing dust and glass from his suit.

Friday surveyed the room. All the windows to her left had been blown out and shattered. Luckily they must have been some way from the blast as there seemed to be no structural damage to the room. Suddenly the floor shook once more, nearly knocking them off their feet. "Must be secondary structural damage."

Heinlein nodded, "Emergency exit's only a couple of doors down."

"You two ok?" Friday breathed.

"I'm fine, we need to evacuate," Heinlein instructed.

Steve tried to open the conference room door, "It's blocked I can't seem to move it."

"Let me try," Friday walked over to the door and tried to shove it open, "No good. What's the door made out of?"

"Just plywood, I think." Steve remarked.

Friday undid her right sleeve and rolled it back, "Heinlein, do I have permission to do what it takes to get us out?"

Heinlein nodded, "So long as you're careful. I'd rather not have the building collapse on me today."

Friday concentrated on her right arm and her fingers merged together to form a sharp, thick cutting blade, similar to that of an axe, "Stand back," She instructed Steve and he then complied.

Her first blow shattered a hole thru the wood of the door and subsequent one's slashed massive rips down it's entire upper half, "Steve, Give me a hand tearing away the wood so we can crawl thru."

Steve nodded and assisted her in creating a hole a couple of feet wide. Changing her arm back to normal she turned and said to Steve, "We'll both give the lower section a kick, after three. One, Two, Three!" Friday launched a flying drop kick at the door and it splintered in all directions leaving a clear gap they could step thru.

"Ladies first," Steve offered.

Friday stepped over of the remains of the door and out into chaos. Like her own office the main structure had remained intact, except for some of the ceiling that had fallen down in front of the door. The door below the emergency exit sign was open and she could hear voices coming from inside the stairs leading down.

Following the evac drill, Friday walked down the stairs and into a queue of people fighting to get down. "Must be blocked further down," Steve commented.

"Either that or they are panicked," Friday observed.

The sound of a gunshot made suddenly rang out, "Federal Agents! Let us Thru," Heinlein had caught them up and had fired his gun up out of the door he'd just walked thru.

Friday hadn't even known he was carrying a firearm, but it figured he would. "Follow me down, we'll get the people out in a proper manner," Heinlein ordered Friday and Steve.

They pushed and barged their way down, with Heinlein flashing his badge at those who protested. The building shook once more, nearly knocking them off their feet and only adding to the sense of panic.

"We need to get these people out of here!" Friday whispered to Steve.

Steve nodded, but kept pushing his way down.

It took five more minutes until they reached the source of the blockage. The stairwell had collapsed, leaving only a small hole in which to crawl thru to reach safety. A few men in suits were trying to open the hole wider but their progress was being hampered by people trying to crawl thru to safety.

"Federal Agents! What's going on" Heinlein demanded.

"We're trying to clear a space, but we're afraid that someone will get crushed if we move any debris when they're trying to get thru."

"Friday, Steve you go on. I'll help out here," Heinlein ordered.

Friday nodded and managed to squeeze thru the hole into bright sunlight.

The whole first and second floors had gone, leaving only the main support pillars intact. The underground parking lot had vanished under tons of rubble, leaving the upper floors only being supported by a few cracked pillars.

The air was thick with dust and smoke, "Holy shit," Steve breathed behind her as he surveyed the carnage.

Friday spotted some overworked paramedics, "Steve, you see if Heinlein needs any help. I'll see if the paramedics need anything," She sprinted over to the paramedics "Need any help?" she asked one of them.

"We've got more teams on the way, but if you know any first aid we could really use you," one replied.

Fuck executive orders, there were people here who would die unless she helped, "I'm a trained surgeon and MD. I've had years working in ER before I came to work here. What can I do?"

The paramedic looked visibly relived, "If you are who you say you are, then you're a miracle. We've been loading who we can into ambulances, but there are a few who will die if they are moved and if they don’t get surgery soon. We can spare one guy to help, he's with them offering what help he can, "The paramedic pointed to a row of stretchers about a hundred yards away.

Friday nodded and ran towards the stretchers, A single paramedic was checking the blood pressure and pulse of a young woman in a smart blue business suit, "I'm a doctor, what can I do?" Friday asked.

"This woman's got an internal injury to her lungs, I think one of her ribs has cut into it and the wound hasn't yet stopped bleeding."

"Is she the most serious?" Friday asked.

"She the most serious that will live, the rest…" The paramedic shook his head.

"Show me!" Friday demanded.

"Ok," The paramedic sighed and walked Friday to a middle aged man who was laying unconscious on a stretcher. A large gash in the side of his head was weeping blood.

"Fractured skull?" Friday asked.

The paramedic nodded, "Yeah He's fitted a few times, I've given him what I can to help him, but he's too badly injured to move."

Friday gently felt around the wound, "Hmm Epidural Hematoma. Feels like he's got a huge amount of swelling. That's what's causing the fits. Do you have any kind of surgical equipment?"

"Some, I'll go get them," The paramedic stood up and sprinted off to a waiting ambulance.

Friday carefully and gently felt the man's head some more, she'd only get a single chance to get this right. Wait a minute! The swelling wasn't greatest near the head wound at all, it was just to the rear. It was being masked by the fracture of the skull. She felt around some more until she had the exact spot pinpointed.

"Here we are Doctor?" The paramedic had raced back with the emergency surgical pack from the ambulance.

It felt good being called Doctor again, "The focus of the swelling isn't around the point of the wound, it's here! See! The skull fracture has masked it!" she explained.

"Fuck me, you're right!" the paramedic exclaimed, any doubts about her credentials now well and truly answered.

Friday took a disposable scalpel blade from the kit and made an incision in the man's head, only a small amount of blood spurted out meaning the pressure was under the skull. "Pass me a small hand drill, and as many swabs as you can. This'll get messy."

The paramedic obeyed and passed Friday a small stainless steel drill, "As carefully as she could Friday turned the drill until a large fountain of blood and fluid spurted from the side of the man's head. As quickly as she could she placed a swab over the wound and repeatedly changed them until the bleeding had died down, "Check the patients vitals!" She ordered.

The paramedic did so and breathed a sigh of relief, "Much better. He should last until we can get him to hospital. Thanks Doctor!"

"Ok, back to the woman you first showed me," Friday ordered. She had gone into automatic pilot, born in the pressure cooker of an ER department and one in which she thought she'd never use again.

"The bleeding seems to have stopped on its own," Friday said after listening to the woman breathe. The woman was now fully awake and rasped, "Am I going to be ok?"

Friday nodded, "You have a broken rib and some internal injuries. But you'll be going to the hospital soon and you're looking better than you were."

The woman closed her eyes and visibly relaxed on the stretcher.

"FRIDAY!" She heard Heinlein's voice shout out at her from across the chaos.

Ignoring Heinlein's shout she turned to the paramedic and asked, "Ok who else?"

The paramedic walked Friday to another unconscious woman, scarcely 20 years old. Her black suit was covered in sticky blood and her deathly pallor didn't bode well. "She's got massive internal injuries, according to her co workers half the ceiling fell on her. I'm not sure what you can do," the paramedic said sadly.

"Get more some painkillers, morphine will you?" Friday asked.

The paramedic nodded and ran off to find some.

There was no time to treat her normally, even if she could be treated at all. Friday glanced around and seeing that the coast was clear grew a small hollow talon from her left hand. Checking no one was looking at her she pushed the talon into the woman's arm and let her blood flow into her. Within moments, she had sampled the woman's DNA and it would be only a minute until her changeling organ could reproduce it.

Her plan was to inject the woman with a drug that would alter her DNA slightly, but enough for her to heal her shattered body. As quickly as it had grown she retracted the talon back into her hand once more, just in time for the paramedic to come running back.

"Got anything stronger than this?" She gestured to the bottle the paramedic had just turned up with.

There was a sigh as the paramedic ran off to find something else and she bent down to examine the woman once more.

"FRIDAY, what the fuck are you doing!" Heinlein's voice shouted at her.

She had been concentrating so much she'd not heard him walk up to her.

"Saving lives, now fuck off and leave me to it!" Friday snapped, standing up to go face to face with Heinlein.

"Stand down! You are in direct breach of a Presidential executive order banning you from practicing medicine of any kind!"

"If he minds so much he can come and stop me himself!" Friday snapped and turned around to treat the unconscious woman.

Friday froze as she heard a click of a gun being cocked, and something solid being pressed against the back of her head, "I said, Stand down!"

Friday wondered if he really would pull the trigger. Could she take the chance?

She glanced down at her patient and saw to her despair that the woman's chest had stopped moving. Her trained eye noticed her take that last breath people made as they died, she'd seen it too many times to be mistaken. Tearfully she tuned around to face Heinlein once more.. "You Bastard! I could have saved her! YOU killed her!"

Heinlein put away his gun, glanced at the dead woman and looked back at Friday, his gray eyes boring into her face, "No, Friday, you did!" he replied and walked away.

Fury welled up inside Friday. "Don't turn your back on me you callous bastard!" She shouted.

It was at this moment the Paramedic turned up with some more medical supplies, "Doctor?" he queried.

"Doesn't matter any more. She didn't make it!" Friday said bitterly and stormed after Heinlein.

She caught him within a matter of seconds and grabbed hold of his shoulder, "I said don’t turn your back on me you fucking bastard!" she swore at him.

Heinlein paused for a moment and then whirled around and before Friday could even move smashed his fist into her face.

Friday reeled, it felt like she'd been hit in the face with a brick. Blood spurted from her nose and it felt like her cheek had been broken.

"Don't ever talk to me like that again!" he snarled.

"Up yours" Friday snapped back, preparing herself for another sledgehammer blow.

In spite of her readiness she was still too slow to dodge as Heinlein's fist slammed into her jaw, sending her sprawling backwards.

"If this were another time and place I would gut you from your head to your heel. What I did to Matthew Stephens is nothing compared to how I would treat you! Consider this your final warning!" Friday hissed at Heinlein.

For a moment she saw a flicker of fear across his face, "In the light of your behavior you are suspended, pending review for two months. Hopefully it will give you time to consider your actions and your attitudes," Heinlein stated in his official tone. He then turned and walked away.

"Friday don't even think about it!" She felt Steve's hand on her shoulder.

From the corner of her eye, she saw some firemen put another body into a body bag and carry it away. This was too much.

Friday turned to face Steve and buried her head in his chest. "Steve, he stopped me saving that woman. Why?"

"Later, Come on we need to get you home," Steve said returning the embrace and led her by the hand to a waiting car.

Friday just sat numb and dejected in the car on the way back. It had felt so good, so right to be back healing people, saving lives, making a difference and now the burden of loss fell heavy on her shoulders. Heinlein had tried to blame her for letting that woman die, and yet in a way he was right. It wasn't his fault she was banned from practicing medicine. It was hers. Still he could have let it slide for the sake of an innocent's life.

Friday said nothing all the way back to her house. She'd always suspected Heinlein was a heartless bastard, but not that much! She tried to comfort herself by thinking that at least she'd saved one life, but that seemed to make little difference. She knew what Heinlein's reasoning would be. They'd examine the woman and find traces of an unknown chemical in her bloodstream, and that would be that. Just how many lives was a secret worth!

She took the liberty of healing her cheek and nose as she suspected Heinlein's punch had fractured both her nose and cheek. God, could he throw a punch! No doubt a product of some special forces training, she'd not under estimate him again!

Steve knew her better than to try and say anything and Friday was grateful for his insight into her character. As he parked outside of their house she remained in the car for a few moments, until Steve opened the door for her. "Thanks," she whispered.

The first thing she did was head straight for the shower, she needed to wash all the blood and dust off her, and get changed.

As the warm soapy water ran over her body, she could hear Steve's voice on the phone. The fact she could hear it from inside the bathroom meant that he must be shouting at whoever. There could only be one person, Heinlein.

She got out of the shower, dried herself off and headed towards her bedroom to change. She could still hear Steve's raised voice thru the bedroom wall, although the words were indistinct. She changed into her silk panties and bra, it always made her feel better and finally put a pair of jeans and a green T-shirt on. "Fuck em!" she said to herself and concentrated on her face.

She felt her features flow and reform into that of her old face, that of Dr Elizabeth Bexley. She brushed her new auburn hair into some kind of shape and her blue/grey eyes looked back at her in the mirror. She finished brushing her hair and went to find Steve.

Steve was in the living room, still on the phone when Friday walked in. She saw his eyes widen as he noticed her face, "Shit! Heinlein I'll call you back!" he exclaimed down the phone.

"Friday, what the hell are you doing with that face?" Steve hissed.

"It's my face. I can do with it what I like. Its ok no one can see me. It's not as though I'm going to go out on the town with it!" Friday snapped. Not Steve too!

"I've just spent the last hour on the phone to Heinlein talking over what you did. I take it you understood that you're suspended for two months. Sometimes I despair at you, sometimes I really do! I know you were acting with compassion and saving lives is what keeps you going."

Friday sat down on the sofa next to Steve, "Steve, I'm tired of being someone else! I want to be me again. I had no choice but to help those people today. Can’t you see that?"

Steve put a hand on her leg, "I do. But there are some things none of us can do any more. When they faked your suicide you left your old life in the grave. Dr Elizabeth Bexley doesn't exist anymore, in spite of who you look like right now. You died nearly three months ago. In her place Lt Friday Carrell of the CIA was born."

Friday blinked back tears, "I know. But I'm not really Friday Carrell am I? You know what else bothers me about today?"

"What?"

"I was ready to rip Heinlein in two for what he did. For a moment I didn't care who saw what I did, I was ready to grow blade arms and decapitate him, just like I did those Russians. For a fleeting moment I thought my fury had returned."

Steve, put a second hand on Friday's lap, "Anyone would have been as mad as hell with him for what he did. It was a natural reaction. But I'm sure you know why he did what he did. Don't worry about it, he'll calm down."

"I guess. Do we know anything more about the bomb, how many casualties?" Friday decided to change the subject. Heinlein and his cold hearted but oh so logical rules could wait until she was better positioned to do anything about it.

"It's too early to tell for sure, but we guess that those maintenance trucks in the underground car lot were packed with C4. At least three of them blew up under the main structural supports, or at least what they thought were them. If they'd have got the right ones, the whole building would have gone. Lucky for us they screwed up. Last figures I heard was nine dead and thirty two wounded, twelve critically."

"Why us?" Friday asked sadly. Nine Dead!

""As you know, we rented space in one of our front company's office blocks. The conference room we normally use was double booked so we had to move. It happens every so often as you know."

"So we were the target!"

Steve nodded, "Seems so. Or rather Heinlein was. That was what we were talking about just now. Langley got confirmation that he was the target an hour or so ago."

"Who targeted him? Friday queried. Who in hell would have the audacity to do something like this on American soil?"

"That we don't yet know, but they called in using a coded phrase that left us in no doubt that he was the target. We do however have a plan to find out who did it," Steve remarked.

"If they were after Heinlein it follows we could be targets too," Friday exclaimed.

Steve nodded, "That's the theory. Well me anyway. They just think you're a teacher who drops by to visit her husband after school sometimes. You're not on any CIA payroll or database so they have no way of knowing any different to what they see. So the plan is, stay here, live the same way as we always do and wait for them to make a move on me."

"Who thought up that dumb plan?" Friday commented. It was clear what they hoped would happen. They hoped she would be on hand to take care of any attempt on Steve's life.

"Heinlein did," Steve admitted.

"Figures. He wants us both killed!"

"Friday, look. In all honesty he's really shaken up by this. Normally he'd just tear you off a strip for what you pulled today. He plans to use your suspension as a way to ensure you aren't off on a mission if and when they come after me."

"So what happens when I'm teaching?" Friday asked.

"During normal working hours, I go off to wherever we're going to use as a base of operations, probably Langley itself, at least for a few weeks anyway. If they try anything it'll be here, anywhere else is too well protected."

Friday shook her head in derision, "And Heinlein berated me about foolhardy plans! I don’t buy it Steve, what's really going on?"

"That I really don’t know. But our orders are to do as I've just said. At least until we find out more. It's only been three hours since the explosions and that's nowhere near enough time to reach any kind of conclusion. My honest guess is that we'll know by the time your suspension is over. I promised I'd phone Heinlein back, so I guess I'd better get it over with."

"I've got a lesson plan to prepare anyway," Friday said softly.

"Oh and one more thing?" Steve asked.

"Sure!" Friday replied

"Please change your face back to that of Friday. With all due respects to your old self, I much prefer Friday to that one," Steve commented.

"Just for you," Friday gave Steve a wink and stood up, she was famished and needed to eat. At least she had two months to concentrate on her teaching and the sense of humanity of being with those kids gave her something to look forward too.

She went to bed, soon after eight pm. The images she had seen that day wouldn't go away. She connected her headphones to her mini Hi-Fi and tried to drive the images away with music. It failed.

        "The winter here's cold, and bitter 
        it's chilled us to the bone 
        we haven't seen the sun for weeks 
        to long too far from home 
        I feel just like I'm sinking 
        and I claw for solid ground 
        I'm pulled down by the undertow 
        I never thought I could feel so low 
        oh darkness I feel like letting go 
        If all of the strength and all of the courage 
        come and lift me from this place 
        I know I could love you much better than this"

In her minds eye she saw firemen pulling bodies from the shattered building, Paramedics frantically performing CPR on a woman who'd been partly crushed beneath the rubble. The cries of the injured and dying filled the air and the smell of death mixed with that of burning wood and soot.

        "full of grace 
        full of grace 
        my love"

She remembered watching helplessly as the life seeped away from the woman she'd tried to save. Why had she died? What was the reason for it all? She thought she used to know, but now those Sunday school classes seemed so long ago and so inadequate.

        "So it's better this way, I said 
        having seen this place before 
        where everything we said and did 
        hurts us all the more 
        its just that we stayed, too long 
        in the same old sickly skin 
        I'm pulled down by the undertow 
        I never thought I could feel so low 
        oh darkness I feel like letting go 
        If all of the strength 
        and all of the courage 
        come and lift me from this place"

She saw one man calling and crying into the rubble for a missing loved one, his hands were cut to shreds from scrabbling at the concrete and steel, hoping for a sign that they were still alive. She didn't know if he found her or not, only that he was helped away by a paramedic to have a large cut on his head looked at.

        "I know I could love you much better than this 
        full of grace 
        full of grace 
        my love"

--- oo ---

The first month passed really slowly. Steve would leave at 7:30am for Langley or wherever it was he went, she would then leave a few minutes later for school, then home again at 5pm and wait for Steve to turn up a couple of hours later.

Although Steve had told her that the CIA would only use her when necessary, being suspended meant that Steve no longer talked about what had gone on, or indeed what was being discovered regarding the bombing. Sure, he was nice enough about it but she felt more isolated than she had been since she'd first moved in with him.

It wasn't Steve's fault, neither was it really Heinlein's it was the system that dictated that as soon as you were out of the loop you stayed out. On the upside she was getting closer to Steve almost everyday, although they had yet to sleep together again. Neither of them was ready for that particular complication.

A week into the second month Steve announced that he was being sent on a mission for the next five weeks or so. Its nature he couldn't tell her, only that it was a reconnaissance mission to survey the people they suspected of carrying out the attack on Heinlein. He had assured her that she was quite safe, and that her cover was intact. As he embraced her to say good bye he whispered to her that he loved her, in response Friday's kiss told him that maybe she felt the same.

19. The Wages Of Sin...
------------------------------

Steve had been away for nearly a month and every day Friday wondered how he was doing and indeed if he would be coming back. She'd just got back from school, where her favorite class had finally managed to get to grips with genetic heritance. As she opened the door she almost trod on a white envelope. She casually picked it up and turned it over to see who it was for. On reading the name on the front she dropped her bags in shock.

It was addressed to Dr Elizabeth Bexley…

--- oo ---

As quickly as she could, she kicked her bags inside with her foot and closed the door behind her. She read the front of the envelope again; just to be sure she hadn't misread it.

She went to open it, and then considered if she should. The correct thing to do would be to call Heinlein and see what he said to do, but what if this was nothing to do with him? Besides, she was still pissed at him over his handling of her helping out the casualties of the bombing. If this was a legitimate letter to her then Heinlein or those under him had fucked up big time. To tell him or even Steve would leave her fate in their hands, something she was not prepared to let happen at all! She decided to open the letter first and then act based on what it said.

Carefully she opened the letter at arms length and pulled out a single typed sheet. Bringing it closer to her she read it out loud.

"Dr Bexley.

You should not be surprised that we know your identity or where you live. We have been observing you for some time. Do not notify your superiors of this communication or those close to you will surely die.

I will be in the restaurant, at the Hilton, Embassy row at eight pm tonight. You will recognize me, by the fact I will have a single red rose at your place at the table.

Ensure you come alone. Any attempt to deviate from these instructions will result in the deaths of all those you hold dear."

"Oh shit!" She breathed. All she held dear? Just who did that mean Steve, the kids at school or even Matthew, Kat and Cathline? The letter gave no clues as to who they were and that their intentions were. Clearly they wanted something from her.

Again, she was torn between going it alone and telling Heinlein. But the letter was explicit in its instructions and she didn't trust Heinlein not to screw it up as he had obviously done in so many things, including keeping her identity a secret. So she decided she would go in alone and take it from there.

As the hours dragged by, she must have read the letter a hundred times. People had died to protect who she really was and Heinlein was adamant her cover was secure. So, how in hell had those people found her and more to the point what did they want from her?

She decided to put on her little black dress Steve had bought her, just before he'd left. As she put on her black pantyhose she wondered if they had captured Steve and had somehow tortured the information out of him. If that was the case, then she would do whatever she could to save his life and screw the consequences.

The cab arrived at seven twenty and she arrived at the Hilton with five minutes to spare. She couldn't help but glance around at the guests checking in and sitting in the lounge area. None of them looked threatening or were doing anything unusual.

She walked into the restaurant and glanced round, out the corner of her eye she spotted a red rose on a table furthest away from door. Immediately her eyes focused on the single occupant of the table. It was a man of Arab origin, his black hair combed back into a western style. His dark, almost black eyes glanced up at her and nearly bored right into her soul. He gave a smile, flashing white teeth and then still smiling gave a single fingered salute.

Friday's blood ran cold. Only one organization used that particular signal, the Guild!

Friday grimly returned the salute, not out of respect but of recognition. What the Fuck were the Guild doing here! Kismet wouldn't need to threaten her to get her to come, that left only one alternative. The Guild Splinter group she'd read about!

As casually as she could she walked over to the table and sat down.

"Welcome Friday Carrell or should that be someone else?" the man's thick Arab accent stated menacingly.

"Tell me what you want!" Friday hissed!

"Business in a while. I took the liberty of ordering you a drink and some food. Dry Martini isn't it? And I think you'll find the Sushi platter here better than that of the place you took your new boyfriend," The man's face was a mask of emotionless fact. He gave nothing away.

"I'm impressed. So what does the splinter group you work for want of me?" Friday demanded.

"Have you noticed the positioning of the table?" The Guild agent asked.

"My back is towards the door, but I have a clear view of the private tables in the corner," What in hell was he driving at?

"As it should be. We'll talk business in a moment. Tell me, how is your boyfriend at the moment?"

Friday's heart sank, so they DID have Steve, "He's fine. I'll give him your regards when I get back."

"That's good to hear. I'm pleased you found love again. It must be hard to lose a loved one," the Guild Agent's voice was silky smooth.

"Stop jerking me around and get to the point!" Friday snapped.

The Guild agent looked over Friday's shoulder towards the door, We'll be able to start in a very few moments, just as soon as our new guests have taken their seats."

Friday twisted round to see who had just arrived and on seeing them she could help but breathe "Oh Fuck!"

Friday eye's followed the pregnant woman with the long black hair, her blonde haired husband and another woman, tall, impossibly beautiful in spite of her single black eye patch.

"It must be nice to see your old friends doing so well. Let me get this right. The pregnant Arabic woman is Jane Stephens, also known at 'Kat'. The man now pulling out a chair for her to sit on is her husband, Matthew Stephens, but then you know all about him don't you! Lastly the tall woman with the eyepatch is Rachel Martin, former ultra model and a former lover of yours I believe."

Friday couldn't speak. She was overcome with fear and emotion. Her being invited her when they were at the same hotel was no accident. She wanted desperately to do something, make a scene to alert them to the danger they were obviously in but nothing she could think of would prevent them from being killed as soon as she made her move. As much as it pained her to do so, her only option was to wait for her opportunity.

A waiter walked past them and offered Kat a glass of water, which she then took and sipped before putting it on the table.

"Now we can do business," the Guild agent said casually.

"You leave them out of it! They've done nothing to you!" Friday snapped.

"Haven't they? The woman over there, Kat she helped you destroy us a few months ago. The man also was involved and as for Rachel Martin, she was given to my Father Osman, as a personal gift. They are all involved."

Friday's mind raced, "You're Osman's son?" Osman had been Hassan's brutal and perverse second in command and had been killed by Kat in a struggle for their freedom. So that was the motive for this meeting, revenge.

"Before we start, let's just ensure that you don't go doing anything stupid or foolhardy. We know that the baby Jane Stephens carries inside her is in reality your daughter, now of course she doesn't know that; but we have our sources which revealed the truth to us."

Friday tried to mask the look of horror and despair she felt creep thru her flesh like ice water.

The Guild agent smiled, "I see our information was correct. Dissolved in the water she has just drunk was a very special poison. It will lay dormant and quite undetectable in her bloodstream until she feels the pains of childbirth. If an antidote is not administered before then, then the baby, your daughter will die as it emerges from her womb."

"Bastard!" Friday swore. Grief and fury merged into one feeling of utter helplessness. She wished the ground would open up and take her away from this nightmare.

"We are not animals, so if you help us out in a few, shall we say loose ends, then the antidote will be administered to her before the due date and the baby will live a full and happy life. Of course any deviation from the tasks we set you, or any attempt to notify your superiors or indeed your old friends will alas, result in us forgetting to give her the antidote. So what do you say will you work with us, or will you mourn the loss of your daughter in four months time?

Friday looked the Guild agent right in the eyes and summoning all her anger, fury and contempt threatened, "I want to say, that I will enjoy killing you personally and slowly. Imagine the worst pain you can possibly imagine and then multiplying it a thousand fold. I will make you scream in terror every minute of every day I choose to keep you alive. If my daughter dies then hell and perdition will be a welcome relief from the torture I will inflict on you and all those involved in this scheme of yours."

The Guild agent didn't even flinch at her threat; all he wanted was an answer to his question. She thought about Heinlein's actions and attitudes to her and the way he had treated her over the past few months. She didn't owe him anything! The decision was easy to make, not only because of the threat to her daughter, but because it was a way of getting back at Heinlein for all the shit he'd caused her. It was clear now that he couldn't protect her, neither could Steve. That left only one option, once again she would have to rely on her own resources. A smile almost escaped from her mouth. They didn't stand a chance! She paused for a few moments and then added, "In the meantime I have no choice. I'll do what you want."

EPISODE  2 - Assassin  

Friday stood next to a car, by the side of a small road in the middle of nowhere waiting for her target to arrive. Only a few hours ago she had met with a Guild agent who had threatened to take the life of her unborn daughter should she not, in his words 'tie up some loose ends'. She would do anything to save her, she had no choice. She was her only chance to gain some peace, her only reason for living and she would protect that at all costs! The fact that the Guild Faction had directly threatened her future, as well as those she loved made her livid with hatred towards them.

She was waiting for one of those loose ends now. The loose end's name was Omar al-Hassani, and only a few months ago, on a whim of mercy she had decided to save his life.

It was in the middle of the Guild war that she'd came across Omar and the troops under his control. She and Guild forces loyal to Salah had ambushed them and rather than kill Omar she'd stunned him.

She'd memorized the instructions the Guild agent had given her.
"Omar al-Hassani has been transported to the USA to undergo questioning by the CIA about his role in Guild Operations. After questioning he is due to be imprisoned at Guantanamo Bay. He is vital to Guild interests and his unjust imprisonment cannot be allowed to happen.

You are to wait at the following location for the convoy carrying Omar to arrive at around 14:23. Your instructions are to deal with the escorts and rescue Omar alive. I need not remind you of the consequences for failure."

During her long drive to the location specified in the instructions Friday had taken the time to formulate a counter plan for this particular operation. She had no intention of letting Omar live any longer than required to save her daughter, she glanced down at her left arm and noted that the tiny capsule she grown under her skin was completely invisible.

She'd debated long and hard with herself on how to ensure the Guild could make minimal use of Omar's services and yet keep them happy long enough for her to carry out her promise she'd made, that of killing every one of them slowly and painfully. She didn't feel the red hot fury and thirst for revenge consume her this time and that was of some small relief. Instead she felt almost numb, mechanical and cold blooded. She had decided that she would deal with those who threatened not only her, but her daughter on who all her hopes relied with total ruthlessness. She no longer regarded them as human, no longer worthy of respect, compassion or mercy. Her sole objective now was cold blooded, heartless extermination whilst preventing them killing herself, her daughter or her friends.

She had decided to act alone; the CIA had scruples and rules in which it required those who operated within it to follow. Putting it bluntly scruples got in the way, and hindered her modus operandi. Scruples demanded due process and rights of the individual. None of which those she targeted deserved and none of which they would receive.

There were so many ways open to her to dispose of Omar, but one carried a particular satisfaction. She had considered following him and killing him after it was all clear but she had no guarantee she would be able to get close enough to him again.

The Guild had used a latent poison on Kat to keep her inline, so it was fitting she would use her own version, a small almost microscopic capsule containing one of the nastiest bacteria known to man. Once in his blood stream the capsule would start to break down and six months later the bacteria would be released into his body. She could have used smallpox, Ebola or even Anthrax, but all of those were not 100% fatal and did not produce the desired amount of pain and suffering in its victim.

The small capsule under her arm contained an anti biotic resistant strain of Necrotizing Fasciitis, Once released into his body the bacteria would attack the muscles and fatty tissues of the body, eating them away at frightening speed. The Internal organs would be the last to be attacked with more fleshy areas of the body such as the face, chest, arms and legs being the first. Omar would be eaten alive from the inside out, with no hope of reprieve or cure in the hours it would take him to die. Soon after its food supply exhausted the bacteria would die, thus limiting the spread of the infection.

She would deliver Omar alive to the Guild Splinter group, but six months later, her daughter safe and sound he would die a slow, bloody and agonizing death.

It was strange; she spent the last 5 months trying to forget what she had done, and yet in spite no sign of her alternate personality or mental instability she was once again contemplating vengeance.

Her only comfort was the fact that this time her purpose was just and that, after it was all over she could put it all behind her safe in the knowledge that her future was finally secure and finally in her own hands. She hoped and prayed that Steve was still ok as he was the only person she could rely on to pull her from the abyss she was about to descend into. It was also why she had decided not to involve him in it. Firstly he was bound by the same rules as the CIA were, and secondly she wanted him untainted by the blood she was about to spill.

For this short while, the hell bitch was back.

--- oo ---

Her plan to rescue Omar was made more complex by the fact she couldn't use her changeling organ to fashion weapons for her to use. The moment she used a blade arm, poison dart or anything like that then the CIA would know that she had been involved. This had to be done with traditional weapons and tactics. Another massive complication is that she had vowed not to take the life of innocents if at all possible. The soldiers who were no doubt escorting Omar had done nothing, except obey orders. It had taken much of her time to find out a way of taking Omar alive without firstly using her changeling abilities or killing any of the troops.

She checked her watch, there was 8 minutes to go before the convoy arrived. Just enough time to check her preparations one last time. She checked her hair in the mirror, she was wearing the body of a man of Hispanic origin, and her black hair was slicked back into a small pony tail. She had put on around 4 inches in height, to around 6'2 with a build to match. Although she hated being in a male body, a gender change was the surest way to avert suspicion. She also taken the trouble to ensure that her fingers had no finger prints as such, and that any DNA forensics found would be useless for analysis. She'd purchased a black T-Shirt and Levi's and on her feet was a pair of caterpillar branded boots.

She glanced inside her car and onto her bag containing a set of her female clothes and several different ID that the Guild Faction had provided for her. Also by the bag was a small remote control. She picked it up and checked the batteries were connected. Now to check the rest of the equipment that had provided for her.

Hidden under a camouflage net just behind her car was the first of two Kornet-E personal anti tank missiles. For her plan to work, she'd need to make good use of both. Instead of using the armor piercing version, she'd chosen to fit them with thermobaric warheads which would release a fine spray of fuel before detonation and then ignite it causing a huge explosion over a wide area. Ideal for use on the thin skinned HumVee's the convoy would be using.

She bent down and checked the sighting. It was perfectly aligned to a rental car, parked on the far side of the road. With their usual professionalism the Guild Faction had placed it exactly where she wanted it. After checking the firing link to the remote once more, she walked to a second Kornet missile launcher and checked the targeting on that one also, an abandoned truck stop.

For a final check she jogged another 100 yards down the road and checked that the camouflage was intact. She nodded in satisfaction. To the drivers of the HumVee it would look like a couple of cars parked on the side of the road. She checked her watch, three minutes to go!

She sprinted back to her car, opened the trunk and retrieved two Manville Riot Guns. They were about 3 feet in length and held 8 CS gas canisters each in a revolver style mechanism. She weighed them up in each hand, getting the feel of them. She then selected a small circular disk, an magnetic explosive charge with a timer. The last thing she needed from the trunk was a gas mask, which she slung over her shoulder. She wouldn't need to use it herself, but Omar would. She carefully rearranged the packing of the remaining items in the trunk, a full gallon of gasoline and three phosphorous grenades, it would a real dumb way to die, should they go off when she was driving the car.

She walked 50 yards to her prepared firing position exactly between the two missiles. Just there the road banked downwards, providing her cover both from the eyes of the soldiers and the blast. Waiting for her there was a color monitor, which she checked once more. The monitor was linked to the Kornet's via a small fiber optic cable and would provide her a 'missile' eye view of the targets. From her vantage point she could carry out the entire ambush single handedly, or at least that was the plan. Of course none of the Soldiers would know it was just her, as she'd ensured that her prepared position had several indentations where the ambushers could have hidden.

Finally with two minutes to go, she drove the car two hundred yards up the road, so as to avoid it getting caught from the fuel-air explosions from the Kornet missiles. After ensuring it was safely out of range, she sprinted back to her prepared position and waited.

One minute and twenty seconds later, her monitor showed the first HumVee drive past the abandoned truck stop, then a larger van obviously containing Omar and then followed up by a second HumVee. Friday estimated that there were some twenty troops guarding him.

Two seconds later, the first HumVee was at the optimum firing point as was the second. Friday jabbed the remote, fractions of a second later there were two massive explosions and Friday felt the air being sucked from her lungs as the fuel-air explosion burned all the oxygen for it's own use, and a wave of scorching heat swept over her prone form.

Moments later she was on her feet, riot guns in each hand and firing CS Canister after CS canister into the convoy. As she'd hoped the explosions hadn't destroyed the HumVee 's but the force of it had shattered the windows of the normally hermetically sealed vehicles, thus allowing the CS gas to get to the occupants.

The convoy was now enveloped in white, choking gas and she could hear the soldiers gasping for air and utterly incapacitated. She sprinted to the rear of the van and in Arabic shouted "Away from the door!" she then attached the small magnetic explosive to the door and set it to detonate in 2 seconds.

There was a small 'crump!' and the door sprung open. She quickly identified Omar and stepping over the choking, soldiers thrust the gas mask in his hands, "Take this!" she shouted at him.

She helped him put the gas mask on and helped him out of the Van. By now the gas was starting to dissipate, they didn't have long before the soldiers recovered. "This way" she ordered and started to run towards her car, Omar tried to keep up but Friday had to keep pulling him along.

They had almost reached the car when Friday heard automatic weapons fire and Omar cried out in pain. As fast as she could she bundled him into car, leapt over the hood into the driver's seat and drove off as fast as she could.

When they were clear of the wrecked convoy, she turned to Omar and asked in Arabic, "How are you?"

Omar finally took the gas mask off, nodded and replied "I am ok. They hit my leg, but I will live thanks to you."

"Later, we need to get off the road and change cars. All hell will break loose in a few minutes, "She studied Omar's face, it was marked with red lesions from the CS gas and his eyes were still bloodshot and unfocussed. They would remain like that for another ten minutes or so. As she had hoped, the gas mask would have greatly reduced the effects and duration of the symptoms.

They drove for three more minutes until Friday spotted a small dirt track to her right and pulled off down it. She parked her car by old disused barn, got out and opened the door. She then helped Omar inside the barn and beckoned for him to sit down.

"Let me take a look at your leg," Friday offered. As Omar rolled the leg of his pants down, using her own blood stream and capillaries Friday carefully moved the capsule of Necrotizing Fasciitis to just under the skin of her right index finger. She had planned on slipping it into his food, but this was better. It would go directly into his blood stream.

Friday's initial visual inspection confirmed what Omar had said, the bullet had passed thru the muscle and not into the leg itself. "It is as you say, not serious, but it does need dressing. Wait here," Friday walked back the car and retrieved a first aid kit from the trunk of the car.

Friday unpacked the first aid kit, and as she was dressing the wound, carefully let the capsule drop from her finger into Omar's open wound. She resisted a satisfied smile, in six months Omar would die a horrific death, eaten alive from the inside out, "There all done!" She said, securing the last bandage in place.

"Thank you. I owe you my life. Tell me who sent you?"

"A mutual acquaintance. If you turn around you'll see a station wagon, next to a Ford Taurus. Drive to the next town and find Hassan stores. Go there and they will hide you until it's safe for you to leave. You need to leave now, the military will still be recovering and confused, but it won't take long. You'll need to leave as soon as you feel able."

Omar nodded and was about to rub his eyes.

"No, leave them. The water will help clear them," Friday advised. I've got some sodium metabisulphate solution in the first aid kit, that'll neutralize the effects of the gas."

Friday pulled a small eye dropper from the first kit, and gave it to Omar, who then squirted it into his eyes, A few moments later his eyes had noticeably improved, "Thank you."

It was a further five minutes of eye cleaning and washing before Omar felt well enough to leave. Omar gave Friday a smile, and a single fingered salute that had the effect of making Friday feel sick to the core. With a final smile, he nodded and walked to the Station wagon and drove out leaving Friday alone.

Once Omar was well out of sight, Friday walked back to her car and retrieved her bag of female clothes from the rear seat, the three phosphorous grenades from the trunk and lastly the can of gasoline. Placing them by the side of the car, she walked inside the barn once more.

It took a few seconds for her to change into a petite blonde with brown doe eyes and a further two minutes to get changed into her female clothes. She collected up her old male clothes and slung them into the driver seat. The last thing she did was pour the entire gallon of gasoline into the car, followed by the can itself.

The Ford Taurus, the Guild had parked there for to use started first time and she drove it out of the barn and well away from the gasoline soaked car.

She picked up the grenades from the side of the car, set the timer to detonate in 40 seconds, pulled the pins in sequence and tossed them into the car.

She had nearly made the end of the dirt path when she heard the muted bang of the grenades going off, followed by a pall of thick black smoke. She needed to get away quickly before it attracted attention and so turned left and headed towards the remains of the convoy. It would arouse much less suspicion than her driving away from it. She could then pose as an innocent civilian going about their every day business.

Although it had been scarcely twenty minutes since the ambush, the soldiers who had been escorting Omar had things remarkably under control. She was stopped by a soldier, his eyes and face still marked by the effects of the CS gas.

"Sorry Maam, road closed!" The soldier ordered.

Now the CS gas had cleared Friday noted the devastation her ambush had caused. The windscreen of the front Humvee had gone, and judging by the number of soldiers who had cuts on face and hands, it had shattered with some considerable force. The front of the Humvee was scorched where the fuel air mixture had melted the paint, but she noted with satisfaction that as far as she could see, there we no body bags or serious wounded.

"What happened here?" Friday asked.

"Watch the news! Now turn around road closed!" The soldier ordered once more.

Friday gave the solider a sweet smile, "Ok solider," she winked, turned around and headed back towards down.

By the time she had yet again changed cars and turned herself back into Friday once more her ambush was national news. There had been no fatalities and no serious wounded, a few had minor burns, cuts and were suffering from the CS gas, but they would live and just as importantly no one had any idea she was behind it.

It was past midnight when she pulled into her drive, unlocked the door and found herself face to face with Steve, "And just where have you been all day?" he demanded!

20. Double identity
------------------------

Friday stood in shock for a fraction of a second, and then gave Steve a tight hug, "I missed you." She whispered.

Steve pulled away a little. "It took longer than expected. But I'm fine. The school called as you missed your classes. Where were you?"

Friday had prepared her cover story meticulously, "I had the Tel-Aviv dream again last night. Did you know that today is the 6th anniversary of my murder of James Allen and Vickie Turner and that of the destruction of the TGen facility I used to manage. I just needed some space and time to clear my head, so I went for a drive. I feel so disconnected from everything. Any news on the bombing?"

The look of compassion on Steve's face told her that he'd bought her cover story, "Yes a little. Since your suspension is over tomorrow, Heinlein will fill you in on what you missed. Come back here after school tomorrow and we'll go together. You might not see me tonight, as I have a few more things to finish off."

Friday nodded, "I need to get to bed, I've still got a lesson plan to do," She let go of Steve, and giving him an appreciative backward glance.

Back in her room, she flopped down on the bed and tried to get her thoughts in order. Her relief at seeing Steve ok and well was a major high. She had honestly expected him to be killed or kidnapped again, it's what she would do in their place.

The Guild Faction agents who had been watching her had clearly missed the deepening of their relationship, which must mean they only kept a cursory eye on her. Enough to make sure she didn't betray them, or break the terms of their agreement but not enough to notice the subtle nuances, or tell tale signs. For sure they suspected Steve meant more to her than just a work partner, but Steve's freedom indicated that's all it was.

That meant two things, firstly they must have limited resources. The Guild of old often took weeks and months to learn everything there was to know about a target before acting. They clearly didn't have the resources to do this anymore. Secondly, they were making the same mistake with her, as Hassan had. They were assuming they had a complete hold over her and so were over reliant on that hold.

While it was certainly true, that she would do anything to protect the life of the only bright star in her pitch black life, her unborn daughter it was also true that should would do her utmost to see those who threatened her daughter dead. If the Guild Faction didn't realize this then that was their most catastrophic error.

She also mused on why Matthew, Kat and Cathline had not been directly threatened, but then it dawned on her. Those three had suffered much more than mere death threats against them. They had gone thru so much fire and pain, that a direct attack against them would only serve to drive them closer together. She herself, had learned that in her psychosis driven fury at them.

The loss of a child would create much more damage and pain then simply killing one or more of them. It would hang over their lives forever, she would have lost her daughter and her future, and they a child who's every existence allowed them to recover what she had taken away. She owed them dammit!

So, the Guild Faction's plan was simple. Use an unborn child to lever what they wanted from her, and as a tool of revenge against those who had effectively destroyed them.

Her heart sank as her mind calculated the permutations of such a plan. If the Guild Faction was driven by revenge against her and her friends, then no matter what she did baby Elizabeth would be killed in a little over four months time.

There was, she decided only one answer. She had to continue to work for the Guild Faction alone, do exactly what they say and take her opportunities as they presented themselves. If she tried to take direct action against them, then all the Faction had to do was melt away and baby Elizabeth would die. She had no way of knowing their strength in resources, weapons or personnel, and all it would take is her to be followed or observed working against them and that would be that. The plan was far from ideal, it would rely on her ability to spot an exploitable weakness in whatever they asked her do to. However compared to the risks of the other option it was her last and only hope of saving them. Her plan was simple, deception. As Sun Tzu had said Warfare is the Way of deception.
Therefore, if able, appear unable, if active, appear not active, if near, appear far, if far, appear near. If they have advantage, entice them; If they are confused, take them, if they are substantial, prepare for them, If they are strong, avoid them, if they are angry, disturb them, If they are humble, make them haughty, if they are relaxed, toil them, if they are united, separate them.

She gave a confident smile, the Guild Faction wouldn't know what hit them!

--- oo ---

If she could somehow gain access to Kat's medical checkups then it would in theory, be possible to analyze the poison and create an anti-toxin. However there were several significant obstacles to that, firstly she didn't have the equipment to do so. You would need a serious biotech lab to do the work, secondly the Guild Faction would spot her attempt a mile away and then use more direct methods to kill her baby daughter. Thirdly Heinlein and the CIA were no doubt keeping a close eye on her, and any attempt to go it alone on more than the odd day or so would be regarded with great suspicion.

She did consider for a few moments going to Heinlein with this, the CIA had far more resources than she had and they could prove decisive. However as soon as he knew she was acting as a kind of double agent, her insurance was useless and no doubt she would be killed sooner rather than later. In normal circumstances a double agent can be a useful resource, but not one whose very life was a political liability.

Who did that leave? She had no doubt Steve would help her if asked, but he also had a duty to the CIA and he would have to report this to Heinlein, not only because Steve was an out and out patriot, but also because if it came out he had withheld information, then no doubt he'd be jailed for a long time.

Could she risk revealing herself to Matthew, Kat and Cathline. Somehow get them to help? The idea was tempting, but also suicide. Heinlein would know what she had done, as would the Guild Faction, which would mean that either Heinlein would ensure she was killed or that all of them would die by the Guild Faction's hand.

That left only one person, her. Much of this she had instinctively deducted, but it was comforting to have reasoned it thru. Besides, it gave her some degree of comfort. Kill or be killed was the law of natural selection, and it was one she had learned to perfection.

Friday got off the bed and walked to the small sink to clean her teeth and take her daily Stelazine tablet, she stared at the reflection in the mirror. Her copper red hair was still in shape after laying down on the bed, and it formed an almost ring of bronze around her delicate elfin like face. A set of blue eyes stared back at her, studying the face looking at it from the other side of the mirror. The face was that of innocence and life, of simple pleasures and was a complete façade to how she felt inside.

She hadn't really any idea how and why she'd chosen this look for her normal day to day face, just that it was so different to how she used to look, a way of starting again and leaving the past behind maybe?

The face in mirror certainly didn't match how she felt at the moment, but for the sake of her cover she was stuck with it. Since the Guild Faction's ultimatum she had felt darker, more ruthless and more worryingly, part of her was starting to relish the prospect of her slowly killing the Guild Faction a slice at a time.

She put her toothbrush down and rinsed her mouth with peppermint mouthwash, and lastly stripped off and put on a set of clean blue and white fleece PJ's. Within moments she was fast asleep.

She found herself in what looked like a cemetery, all around her in every direction she could see gravestones of all shapes a sizes. Some crosses, some with stars of David and some with just the names, written in Aramaic. Millions and millions of them as far as she could see.

She glanced down at the one she was standing in front of. The simple headstone read, "Dr Lizzy Anne Bexley 1996-2000). The name surprised her. It was the name of her other self, the almost demonic side of her that had swamped her mind and caused so much of the suffering that had taken place over the past few years. Years ago, this Lizzy had come to her in a series of dreams, slowly taking over her mind a piece at a time until only Lizzy remained and the real her was exiled to a small corner of her mind.
It was Lizzy's brilliant but fierce, vicious drive for revenge that had spurred on her genetic research to firstly destroy and terrorize those she had loved and had ultimately created the changeling organ that was now an integral part of her.

From the corner of her eye, she detected movement behind her and whirled around and almost screamed.

Standing before her was a translucent almost spectral figure. Her eyes fixated on the apparition's face, it was identical to her own save the mass of raven black hair tumbling around its blue eyed, elfin face. The figure was wearing tight black leather pants, with a deep blood red T-Shirt, and high black combat boots. The figure waited for a few moments, eyed her up and down as she was being inspected and judged. The figure looked at her and said, "Hello Elizabeth, long time no see. Remember me?"

The next thing Friday remembered was the alarm clock going off telling her it was time to get ready to go school. Her head felt as though it had just been smashed with a large brick, and the pillow was wet with sweat. What a night!

Wearily, she swung her legs out of the bed and stood up. In addition to the headache her throat was parched and gasping for water. She walked over to the mirror to pour herself a drink. Casually she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror and screamed.

Her hair was now a dark, raven black.

--- oo ---

Steve came dashing into the room, "Friday, you ok!" he breathed in relief.

"Yeah I'm fine. Just had a shock that's all," Friday gestured to her raven black hair.

"That's a new look for you isn't it?" Steve commented.

Friday shrugged, "I woke up this morning and found that my hair had changed color. I've always theorized that the subconscious may be able to trigger the changeling organ, but it was only a slight possibility. Anyway, make me a coffee and I'll just switch it right back."

Steve nodded and closed the door behind him.

Friday walked back to the mirror, closed her eyes and concentrated. She knew something was wrong as she could detect no sensation of change in her scalp. This was confirmed when she opened her eyes and saw she still had her mass of black hair.

Stifling down panic, she decided to try something else. This time she closed her eyes and concentrated harder. She felt the changes flow around her face, as flesh reformed and grew. Within a matter of moment her old Dr Bexley face, complete with auburn hair was looking back at her, "how odd," she exclaimed.

Closing her eyes once more, she concentrated on her normal 'Friday face, complete with copper red hair," and felt no small relief as she felt the changes wash over her.

When she opened them again she uttered a single word, "Fuck!" Staring back at her in the mirror was Friday, complete with Raven black hair.

She glanced at the alarm clock, she was running late! At least in the short term, she'd have to tell people she'd decided to dye her hair. Thankfully it was just hair color that had changed, not her whole face! Something was causing her to block the instructions to change back to copper red, and until she discovered it, she'd have to put up with it. As she combed it back into shape, she had to admit it she did look quite good with coal black hair. It kind of took away that look of innocence and life and made her face look colder, darker and almost pitiless.

"You decided to keep it black then?" Steve asked as she grabbed a slice of toast from a plate.

"Yeah. I kinda like it like this. Makes me look older and less like a fresh faced kid," Friday decided not to tell Steve she was unable to change it back. If he and then Heinlein thought something was wrong with her, then they may decide she was too much of a risk.

"That it does, that and that some kind of assassin. You'll scare your classes into obedience today! Did you work out why it happened?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. I was thinking, just before I went to sleep that I could do with a change of image. I suspected that I ordered my hair to change color as I drifted off to sleep. So I was fully conscious when I ordered the change, just not when it happened if that makes any sense?" Friday explained. She needed the lie to sound convincing.

"Sort of. You know how you work more than anyone, anyway you need to scoot. I'll see you tomorrow," Steve stated.

"Sure. Take care," Friday said and gave Steve a peck on the cheek.

"I like the new you already," he smiled.

21. Hostile Takeover?
---------------------------

At school, her new hairstyle provoked a few comments from her classes Most kind of liked it, others thought it made her look too scary; but the most important thing was that people bought her explanation without question.

As she had expected, Steve was out somewhere on an errand which meant she had the house to herself for a few hours. Part of her was tempted to try and turn her hair back to its old color, but even if it did work she couldn't do it for security reasons. She'd have to gradually let it grow out as if she had really dyed her hair. Even single wash colors left the hair looking different to before it was dyed, so for a few weeks she was stuck with it.

In anycase with Steve out of the way, she could drift in the pool until she felt tired, after putting on her single piece speedo, she slipped into the warm water of the pool, felt the gills grow on her neck, she closed her eyes and slipped under the water.

She was at the cemetery again, standing over the grave of 'Dr 'Lizzy' Anne Bexley once more. The scene looked exactly the same as before, graves of all kinds spanning the horizon as far as she could see. Within moments, the sun light started to fade as though the day had passed in moments. Thru the rapidly approaching twilight she saw a figure walking towards her. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she recognized it as the figure that had greeted her the night before.

As the figure walked closer Friday noticed that it seemed a little more solid, less ghostlike more here than 'there'.

Within moments the figure vanished from in front her and an instant later she felt her hair being sensually stroked from behind her. She whirled around to face the figure, still dressed in leather and a blood red T-shirt, that showed her every curve. Unlike last time the figure was wearing her face.

"I like it, it suits me," the figure said, reaching out to stroke Friday's night black hair once more.

Friday pushed the hand away, "Lizzy!"

"What remains of her yes. I must say you have the most exquisite taste in bodies, " Lizzy eyed Friday's body lustfully.

"I killed you!" Friday exclaimed.

"Regrettably yes. But the core of me, us remains. Shall we say I'm a ghost of my former self. I have to hand it you, you were stronger than I ever thought possible. I'm impressed!"

"I take my Stelazine every day, keep my emotions under check. Why are you even still here?" Friday demanded.

"The Stelazine is still a cage, a limitation on our potential and a blockage to us being whole again. No matter, your repressed emotions just give me enough hate and fear to feed on."

Friday saw what Lizzy was driving at, "And because of the feelings the Guild Faction threatening my daughter has brought up in me, that's given you enough to 'food' to come back?"

"That and the one irrefutable fact, you always seem to miss!"

"And that is," Friday demanded.

"You need me."

"Like fuck do I. I'm not a little girl anymore, naive to the way you work. You try and persuade me to let you loose a little at a time, and then before I know it you've taken me over. The stunt you pulled with my hair is proof of that. In some sick perverse way, you want me to look like you so that when you do take over you feel right at home!"

Lizzy smiled, "Think of the hair as a welcome back present. Our daughter's life is at stake and you need me," Lizzy gestured to her blood red T-shirt and tight black leather pants and combat boots.

"No I don't, I know what I'm going to do and how I'm going to do it, and this time only the guilty will be hurt!" Friday snapped.

"My poor naive, misguided Elizabeth. Always the compassionate one, always trying to save life no matter the cost. You can't save the innocent, they are already dead. It's not in our nature to be merciful. The young mugger who's throat you slit, the excessive violence of your attacks, the almost sexual rush you feel as you watch the blood of the dead and dying run down the hands you fashioned into lethal weapons. That's part of you as much as it's part of me."

Friday backed away, "No!"

"Face it, you try and pass off the blame of the death of millions onto me. But the reality is, is that you killed me before they died. You killed me while you were held in captivity by the Guild, not when you were trying to stop the attacks! Had it ever occurred to you, that by killing me you also killed whatever chance the population of Tel Aviv and Cairo ever had of survival?"

"Liar!" Friday spat!

"No! Look deep inside yourself, you know you killed the Guild too early, you know by doing so you condemned all those people to die. At the time when you needed me the most you had already killed me. All in the name of your futile attempt to gain some peace!"

"I know all this, you're not telling me anything new. You mix lies and truth in order to poison me. It's not going to work!"

Lizzy shook her head sadly, "I'm not going to poison you. I'm just telling you what you already know but won't admit. The reason why you can't gain peace is that we are still apart, like a fractured mirror. You said to Steve and yourself you have a broken soul, that you feel like a wraith between the land of living and the dead. The reason why you feel like that is because you haven't made peace with me. I'm the part of your soul that's broken, I'm the ghost unable to find rest. Until we are at peace then you will find no peace."

"Sorry, I don't believe you! I had peace before you came in my mind, so therefore I don't need you to rediscover that peace," Friday stated.

"That was before you lost your innocence, like Eve taking a bite from the apple you can never go back to how you were. The garden of your childhood has been lost, Eden has fallen and there is too much blood on your hands. "

"I have to try. These past months have been painful I agree. But I am paying penance for my sins."

"Penance! You don't know the meaning. A nice house, a boyfriend who you can fuck at your every whim, A job corrupting young minds, plus the odd opportunity to satisfy your bloodlust," Lizzy didn't raise her voice, but spoke in the same way as Friday would delivering a class.

"I'm not free. I have to do what I'm told. Besides, I have to save the life of my daughter. I can't walk away now!" Friday snapped.

"Of course not. Which is why I say you need me to help you. It will mend your soul, rejoin your mind and allow us to focus on the tasks ahead. Finally give us the peace we crave."

Friday paused, "No. I don't trust you!"

Lizzy, now almost fully corporeal moved closer to Friday "You might not trust me, but, admit it you did miss me," She reached out a hand to stroke Friday's hair once more.

Friday stepped back, "No. I have others to help me now. Yes I carry the burden of guilt for those who died, and yes I did make errors. But what is done is done and I'm better off without you!"

"Yes others, Such as Steve. He's real cute for sure. What a shame you repressed how you really wanted to fuck him. Dark perversions you pushed away in the name of decency and morality. The truth is, he will betray you, just like Matthew and Cathline did."

Friday pulled away, horrified, "No he won't! I don't need you. This isn't like before."

Lizzy vanished from in front of her, and Friday felt two hands reach round her waist and grab her breasts, "Yes it is, You need my, " she felt a kiss on the back of her neck, "unique," She felt Lizzy kiss her on the neck once more, "Abilities."

"Stop it," Friday tried to pull away, but she was held tightly.

Lizzy kissed the back of her neck once more, and tousled her hair, "Tell me you missed this?"

"I missed…" Friday started to say and then Tried to pull away again, she felt Lizzy's fingers run circles around her nipples, "NO!"

"To save our daughter and the lives of those we care about you need my abilities to plan, the decisive cutting edge I can bring, and to act with the amoral ruthlessness we need. You called us 'Death incarnate' and that is what we need to become, just for a short while.." She felt Lizzy's hand run up her thigh and stroke her 'here and there'

"No, I can do…" Friday was trying hard not to give in to the sensations sweeping her body.

"Just for a short time, only until she is safe," Lizzy had appeared in front of her, pulled Friday close and kissed her full on the lips and Friday couldn't help but respond.

Friday awoke still, at the bottom of the swimming pool. She swam to the top and after re-assimilating her gills climbed out. After collecting her towel from the deck chair, she went inside to dry off. Her face's reflection still looked odd with its wet black hair still hanging limply around her face. Strange, she didn't seem to mind it so much now.

She checked the clock on the wall, it was a little past seven and she still had hours before bed time. It had been a while since she'd gone shopping just for her and now she had her CIA retainer, her teachers pay and a first Lieutenants salary coming in she could at last afford to spend some money just on her, not on bills and food.

She spent a few minutes blow drying her hair, before tying its black locks into a pony tail. She rummaged around her wardrobe and found a pair of old jeans, a white T-shirt and a casual black denim jacket. Now all she needed was shoes, a choice made easier by the fact she only had four pairs. She decided that casual was best so selected her only pair of pumps.

After collecting her purse from the hallway she jumped into the car and drove to the mall. After driving into the parking lot she walked into the brightly lit mall.

At this time of day it was surprisingly busy, maybe others had had the same idea as she had. Other times she had been out, people had recognized her as the heroine from the school and had come up to her to shake her hand and it took her a few moments to realize why they hadn't done so now. 'It's amazing how different a new hair style and color can make one look', she mused.

Her first port of call was a jeweler for a new set of earrings, she'd gotten a little tired of just the simple gold studs she sometimes wore. She scanned along the usual collections of crosses, butterflies and long dangly bangles none of which struck her, as being 'her'. A red sparkle caught her eye towards the top right of the collection. Perfect! A small set of gold 'teardrop' shaped earring with what looked like ruby's encrusted down the middle. It made them look like small drops of blood. She almost baulked at the price, 200 dollars, but she had to have them.

As soon as she was out of the store, she took her old studs out and replaced them with the blood/tear drops ones, "Better!" she exclaimed.

The next port of call was a series of clothes stores. She selected a number of smart casual skirts, pants and blouses for use at school. It was becoming a little embarrassing only having six or seven outfits to wear. The boring shopping over with, she headed back to a store she had passed earlier, to buy what she had come for.

She found the store that had caught her eye earlier, pushed the door open and went inside. She walked around the aisles, and smiled to her self. She wouldn't need to go anywhere else.

"I'll take those please, "she pointed at a set of dark black leather pants.

"The changing rooms at the rear," a bored looking assistant commented and gestured towards a curtained off area behind her.

"No need, they'll fit," Friday replied tersely.

"Ok, do you need any assistance?" the assistant said, a little disappointed.

"Why not, thanks!" Friday commented. Someone to carry her stuff would be useful.

Friday passed the pants to the assistant and with her in tow walked towards the shoe section.

"I'll have those," Friday pointed a pair of almost knee high boots with a pointed toe and 3 inch heel, "And those," she pointed at a set of caterpillar black combat style boots.

The assistant picked them off the shelf and gave Friday an 'any more?' look.

"Hmm, those too please," Friday pointed at a smaller pair of ankle boots with a chrome studded strap and more sensible heel."

"Size nine right?" The assistant confirmed.

Friday nodded, and waited for the assistant to return. She checked her watch, it was nearly 8:30.

A few minutes later the assistant came back with several boxes, "Would you like to try them on?" she asked.

"No thanks, I'll take them." Friday inwardly smiled. Even if they didn't fit 100% a few nips and tucks to her feet would ensure they did. Sometimes a changeling organ made shopping too easy.

The assistant nodded, "Thank you."

A selection of T-shirts and tops caught Friday's eye, two in particular. One red one, similar to that she'd seen in her dream and a black top with plunging neck line. Perfect. Friday walked over to them and from the rail chose her size. "These too please," She said and passed the T-Shirt and top to the assistant.

On the way to her next and final port of call she selected another black denim jacket, along with a long black leather coat, after handing them to the assistant she ended up at the skirt section, from which she chose a black PVC microskirt, a black leather mini and a longer red suede one.

The total bill came to just over 1,400 dollars, which meant she had spent pretty much all her months salary, but as she walked back to the car clutching her purchases she considered it money well spent. A little retail therapy didn't hurt anyone.

It was still only a little past nine by the time she got back to the house and unloaded the car. She took her outfits out their bags and spread them out in the living room.
On the one side were her 'prissy' school outfits, comprising of pastels and burnt colors and sensible shoes. On the other were the clothes she had selected for the task ahead.

She had chosen leather for one main reason, it was far easier to wash blood off leather than nylon or cloth. Besides, it made her feel as sexy as hell. She was tempted to try it all on now, but she decided to wait. It'd be more fun to see Steve's face when she walked in.

A hunger pang made her realize she'd yet to have dinner. She walked to the phone and decided to call for Pizza, extra large no anchovies. While she waited she picked up all the clothes and boots and hung them up in her now burgeoning wardrobe.

A little after ten, Friday prepared her lesson plan for the next day and an hour later was fast asleep.

--- oo ---

Friday selected one of her new 'school' outfits, a long crimson skirt, with a burnt ochre blouse and black jacket. Her one 'nod' to the other stuff she'd bought was the blood drop earrings which gave her a slight feeling of rebellion.

The classes themselves were straightforward enough, and as usual she had them eating from the palm of her hand.

She dashed back from school, ready to meet up with Steve for her briefing with Heinlein. Just as she'd hoped she'd made it back before Steve, just enough time to try out one of her other 'work' outfits.

She cast aside the micro skirt as being far too an outlandish choice, and indeed she wasn't in the mood for the black mini and red suede ones. That left the black pants.

As she had suspected, they were a little too tight so she carefully adjusted the size and shape of her hips to ensure a perfect fit. Next up she decided on the red T-shirt which was exactly the right size. Not too tight and not so loose that it would disguise the shape of her breasts and waist. She thought about wearing her heeled boots, but that wasn't the impression she wanted to give either Steve or Heinlein, so she put on her high black combat boots.

Lastly she selected the long black leather coat. She'd bought it on a whim but had later decided that it was perfect for concealing weapons such as the CZ-61 Skorpion machine pistol she'd used in Russia.

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. She now looked exactly the same as 'Lizzy' had done in her dreams a couple of days ago. She smiled to herself, "Perfect."

She flexed her arms feeling outward and then threw a jab at the mirror, her hand turning into a nine inch serrated bone blade as she did so. "Good, that still works!" she mused. She'd need it soon. The blade turned back into a hand and she flexed the fingers imaging the blood of the Guild agent running down it after she had rammed it into his throat. The thought gave her immense pleasure. She surveyed her reflection in the mirror once more.

Her raven black hair, didn't look quite right in its pony tail, so she undid the clip and let it fall from her face. "Better," she commented. Her blue eyes burned back at her, all pretence of innocence gone and replaced with something much darker.

The T-shirt hugged her curves just as she'd hoped and her shiny tightness of pants around her hips, butt and legs gave off an unmistakable sensual and sexual signal to any who would look.

All this wasn't just for show. The long coat was for hiding conventional weapons, the color of the T-Shirt would help disguise the presence of blood and gore. The lack of sleeves wouldn't restrict her movement. Her leather pants, again was there to hide blood and offer some degree of protection. The fetish figure hugging nature of it, also gave her an edge against male opponents. The sexual signals she gave off would serve as momentary distractions, and that would give her the fractions of a second she needed to act.

As she took one last look, she decided that this outfit wasn't designed to seduce or provide a fashion statement. She had designed it for one purpose, to make killing easier.

"Friday you ready yet?" Steve's voice came calling out from some other part of the house.

"Sure, just coming," she called out. She gave a small wry smile to herself. She was looking forward to the look on Steve's face.

She found Steve in the living room packing his brief case, "Hi Fri, Fucking hell!" he exclaimed as his eyes nearly fell out of his head.

"Time to go?" Friday asked as if nothing had changed.

"What the fuck look is that?" Steve said, not taking his eyes from Friday's comely form.

"I call it my 'Don't fuck with the bitch from hell' look."

"It certainly says that! What bought this on?" Steve asked.

Did she detect a slight glimpse of fear in Steve's eyes? "I was fed up of being nice little meek and mild Elizabeth, sorry Friday. I'm just going back to how I used to be."

"A sociopathic killer?" Steve asked semi seriously.

Friday gave a laugh, "Don't be stupid! No I just prefer this style of dress to the school teacher one I have been using. Besides, I had some money left and needed a new wardrobe."

"Women, never will understand them. Anyway we're running late and Heinlein's waiting."

--- oo ---

Friday had expected to be driven to another office block, maybe even Langley itself but Heinlein and Steve had arranged something else. The meet would take place in an old warehouse across town.

An hour's drive later Steve pulled up outside what looked like the shell of a warehouse. The windows were smashed and the corrugated walls covered in graffiti tags, from the outside it looked empty and deserted.

"No one home?" Friday queried.

"Heinlein's in there. He's in one of the internal offices, so no light spillage, "Steve replied retrieving a flashlight from the car.

Friday nodded and followed Steve inside.

They worked their way past several rows of empty shelves until they saw a small office light in one of the offices. Thru a broken window Friday saw Heinlein writing away on some document or other.

On seeing Steve and Friday Heinlein gave a nod of recognition.

Heinlein turned to speak to Friday "Friday, it's good to have you back. The hair suits you."

"Thank you sir."

Heinlein gestured towards two vacant plastic chairs, "I'm sorry this isn't a nice warm office. But a random location is safest at the moment."

Steve sat down, followed by Friday who leant back on her chair, arms folded.

"Friday, you've missed quite a lot, so I'll fill you in."

"Contrary to media reports saying otherwise we know exactly who carried out the bomb attack on the building a couple of months ago," Heinlein started to explain.

Friday guessed the answer before Heinlein even had to say it. She was tempted to say it out loud, but decided to play dumb. "Oh?"

"It was your old friends The Guild, or more precisely the splinter Faction we spoke about last time."

Friday faked surprise, "Why?"

"One of the reasons why we are here," Heinlein gestured at the office he was in," and not at Langley is due to some intelligence I received some five months ago. The Guild under UN control informed us that a Guild splinter group may attempt to infiltrate the CIA, in order to learn where and when we are going to try and arrest their operatives. For the last five months I have been conducting investigations on all agents under my supervision. The Guild splinter group must have thought I was getting too close to revealing who the mole may be, or at least who they would approach."

"Do you know who?" Friday's blood ran cold. Did he mean her!

Heinlein shook his head, "No. Only that the Guild were going to approach someone within my part of the firm."

"So why tell us?" Friday asked.

"Because , in spite of our differences I trust you to do the right thing and I trust Steve. As part of his debrief he underwent a significant psych eval to ensure that the Guild or North Koreans hadn't turned him during his captivity, its standard practice when an agent's recovered."

"And you want us to help?" Friday asked.

"No. You need to be aware of the situation. Because as one of Heinlein's agents, they may try to get to you to get to him," Steve replied.

"I thought you said they didn't know about me?" Friday asked. Was this how they had found out? Thru a mole in Heinlein's organization?

"We are now 90% sure they now know you work for the CIA and Heinlein is your supervisor. We are 100% sure they don't know who you really are, otherwise they would come for you and most probably you would be dead," Steve replied.

"How in hell did they find that out?" Friday exclaimed.

"We think they had operatives pretending to be search and rescue guys. A number of items were missing presumed destroyed. We have safety systems built into all computer systems that mean any tampering will destroy the information on them. My briefcase was found intact and the seals still in place. The video cassette I gave you back was destroyed at the scene, however that unique bullet isn't anywhere to be found. The most likely way they found out was to observe the way you acted at the scene."

"Meaning my Doctor bit," Friday said sadly.

Heinlein nodded, "Probably. You were too professional to be just an office worker, and they probably linked your face with that of the teacher who saved the school, and again deduced that a normal teacher shouldn't be able to take on two armed thugs in the manner you did. Add to this you living with a known operative, the connection now becomes obvious."

"That's why you suspended me and bawled me out?" Friday sighed. So it wasn't just Heinlein being callous. He was trying to save her! Fuck! What had she done?

Heinlein nodded, "I hated seeing those people die as much as you did. But I had a larger picture in mind. Still at least your main cover is intact. Which brings me onto your next mission."

"Find and take out the Guild splinter group?" Friday said hopefully.

"No, not just yet. We need to let them think they have the initiative. Wait for them to make a mistake and then hit them hard, and we think they are about to make that mistake."

Friday's initial thought was that them contacting her was that mistake, but then she realized that Heinlein still didn't know about that development, "and what's that?"

Friday reached down into his briefcase and pulled out a manila folder, "We have received information that the Guild Splinter Faction want to kill this man, Ambassador Hashim Kadhim. He is flying to the US in two days to take up his new post as the Saudi Ambassador. Should they manage to kill him, then it will provoke a major rift in US-Saudi relations that will allow the Guild Splinter Faction to gain a larger foothold in the Middle East. Our sources tell us, they want to make the hit within the next few days when he's at his most vulnerable."

Friday nodded, "So why is this a mistake?"

Heinlein smiled, "Because you are going to be there, making sure the hit fails."

"As Ambassador Kadhim?" Friday asked.

"No, as anyone you like. Ambassador Kadhim has too much knowledge for you to pass yourself off as him, knows too many people and also he must not know you are there."

"Why?"

"Because he will not trust his life and that of his family to us, and if he reacts any differently to what he should, the Guild Faction will detect it and know they have a leak somewhere. We cannot risk our sources and cannot risk the Guild Faction finding out. Therefore it falls to you to save his life without him knowing and hopefully give us some leads on the identity of the Guild splinter Faction leaders."

"So it's down to me how and why I save his life?" Friday asked.

Heinlein nodded. "I can't stress the importance of this. You wanted a chance to hit back at the Guild Faction, now you'll have your chance. I'll give Steve his bio and those of his entourage, so you can plan the op. Any questions?"

"Do we know how they will make the hit?" Friday asked.

"As you know, the Guild Faction are probably the most skilled assassins on the planet. Them failing to make a kill is almost unheard of. You know them better than anyone," Heinlein explained.

"You survived!" Friday commented.

"Although I was the target, I think they were just warning me off. The Guild Faction isn't usually as sloppy as they were. How would you make the hit?" Heinlein replied thoughtfully.

Friday thought for a few moments, "It depends on how much time I had and whether I wanted to get out alive. The best way is to fire three shots at close range, two in the head and one in the chest. To do that you'd send a single gunman, probably someone the target had known for a long while."

Steve nodded, "That's what worries us. A single determined hit man is the hardest to defend against. We had hoped to be able to use Satellite surveillance to help you out but its needed elsewhere. You'll need to be on the top of your game. We'll plan the op together, but you'll go in alone. We can't stress how important it is to keep this guy alive, and just as important either capture or take down the assassin. If the Splinter Faction screw this up, it'll massively damage their credibility and undermine their support."

Friday nodded, "Ok. Steve I guess we'd best get started."

"Actually I need Steve for some more intelligence gathering on one of Ambassador Kadhim's bodyguards. He's only been there for a week or so. He's our most likely suspect," Heinlein replied.

"Is his bio in here?" Friday gestured to the manila folder.

Heinlein shook his head, "No. Not all of it, which is why we need Steve to fill in whatever gaps we can. We can't afford for you to spend all your time looking out for what this new guy is doing, if he's not the one. We've arranged with the school for you to take the next four days off. That should be plenty of time to find the assassin."

Steve turned to Friday and said, "You take the car back, I'll get a ride back when I've done. Don't wait up."

"Oh Friday, don't forget that it's your monthly psychological evaluation and changeling test tomorrow. It's your first since your suspension was over, so be nice." Heinlein reminded.

"I won't forget. We have to make sure I'm not a danger to the public or that my evil other self, Lizzy hasn't been resurrected from the dead don't we?" Friday said sarcastically.

"Now, now," Steve quipped.

"Sorry. Just that sometimes I feel like a lab rat being poked, prodded and stared at. I'm fine. Anyway, I guess I should be heading back. I've got a killer to catch."

"We'll talk more when you've planned the op," Heinlein said, starting to pack his things away.

--- oo ---

Once she was back home, Friday spread the contents of the folder on the dining room table and started to read the dossiers on each one of Ambassador Kadhim's diplomatic staff. As usual Ambassador Kadhim was using mainly existing embassy staff for basic things such as chauffeurs, admin and housekeeping. Unless the Guild Faction had a previous grudge against Ambassador Kadhim then it was more unlikely the killer would not be existing embassy staff. Otherwise why wait until Ambassador Kadhim took up his post? Therefore it had to be either one of Ambassador Kadhim's own staff or someone from outside.

The new bodyguard certainly was the prime suspect, but until Steve finished his analysis on him Friday had little information to go on. That left someone from outside. Security surrounding diplomats were always tight, so the main windows of opportunity were few, a ride in a car, a public meeting or a visit out to a restaurant.

Friday's attention turned to the target himself. Ambassador Kadhim had been married for twenty three years and had five children aged from twenty down to six years old. The eldest was at Cambridge University, England studying languages and history, obviously taking after his Father as a career diplomat. Ambassador Kadhim himself had been outspoken against starting a war with the Israel over the attacks on Cario and Tel-Aviv, a move which could have made him enemies within the Guild Splinter group.

No doubt his posting to the USA had, had a lot to do with his actions a few months ago. He was a moderate and saw the need to promote better understanding between the West and Arabs. Therefore his death would be a huge blow for such relations, and only serving to increase the distrust between West and the Middle East. Ambassador Kadhim was also a distant relative of the Saudi Royal family, which would only serve to increase the tensions between the US and their largest Arab ally.

If she managed to stop the assassination then it would be a huge blow for the Guild splinter group. The Guild had enjoyed a reputation for never having failed to make a kill once employed. She herself had used them on many occasions to further her own ends. Not only were they very good, they were very expensive. She herself had spent over twelve million dollars getting them to do all kinds of things from simple kidnap, to the murder of an entire police convoy. If the Guild Faction failed in this attempt then it would show the rest of the world that they were a spent force, unable to be relied on; in short they would soon be history.

If, on the other hand they succeeded then the Guild splinter Faction would still retain the aura of invincibility they had, had for nearly a thousand years. New recruits would come flooding in and soon they would be back as a real threat once more.

This being such a critical mission for them, they wouldn't trust it to an inexperienced assassin. They would either have to use someone who could get close enough to make the kill and then sacrifice themselves, or they would use someone from outside.

There was a knock at the door, followed by the clatter of a letterbox. Friday immediately got up and walked to the door.

Laying on the mat was a white envelope addressed to Dr Elizabeth Bexley.

--- oo ---

"Fuck, not again!" Friday thought as she tore open the envelope and read the letter

"Well done on Rescuing Omar.

Your cooperation in this matter was very much appreciated, and I am glad for yours and your daughter's sake that it went well.

Meet me in the Flaming Brand night club at 11:30 tonight. Come alone and do not tell anyone, the consequences you already know."

Friday checked her watch, it was now 10:35, she'd been studying for nearly two hours and the night club in question was at least an hour's drive away. With no time to lose she stuffed the letter and the envelope in the pockets of her long coat and leaving the dossiers spread all over the table ran outside to the car.

At that time of night the traffic was comparatively light, so she made good progress. One thing bothered her. They must have seen her leave with Steve and return alone, otherwise they would not risk the letterbox drop in case Steve found it. That meant she was being watched closer than she had first thought. Or at least watched closer when they had a mission for her to do.

She was tempted to tell Heinlein and Steve, but in spite of their concern for a mole within their organization she didn't trust them either not to fuck things up, and in Heinlein's case not to throw her to the wolves to save his own skin.

She parked the car half a block away from the nightclub and started to walk. She checked her watch, she'd made it with ten minutes to spare. Normally she would have changed into something more 'clubby' but she hadn't had the time. Besides, it would give her pleasure to those Guild bastards to see her in her 'Don't fuck with the bitch from hell' outfit.

The flaming brand nightclub was exactly as the name sounded. A brick building with a flaming gasoline sign that spelt out the name of the nightclub. All thoughts of being inappropriately dressed went out as she saw a mixture of metal heads and Goths walk in, in front of her. By the time was she near the entrance the sounds of thrash metal could be heard booming from inside.

She paid the guy at the door ten dollars and walked inside the club. The dance floor was crowded and white strobe lights cast random flickers of white fire across the whole room

"Black leather gloves and your lipstick shines
Bright as moonlight glows
My wildest rose cuts so fine and deep
It hurts but never shows
You're bad, you're so hardcore
Pull me down here on the killing floor"

Friday became aware of a heavily tattooed guy dressed in faded biker gear couldn't help but stare at her in unadulterated lust. That's all she needed!

"Little by little we cross the line
Little by little the ties that bind
Little by little by little by little
Little by little tonight

Your sugar tongue speaks hot and sweet
Lying just for fun
Push and shove
Sex is sex
But honey, love is love
We're not sick insane
Just another lovers' game"

She scanned the dance floor for a way to avoid the guy's obvious intent. About ten feet from her, two women were dancing in such a way as to make it clear they weren't interested in the men in the room.

Little by little we cross the line
Little by little the ties that bind
Little by little by little by little
Little by little tonight"

Dancing, and gyrating in time to the song, Friday edged closer to the T-shirted and mini skirted women, and she cast an approving eye over both of them.

"I'm all undone
My pretty one
Don't slap my face
Unless you kiss me"

It took them a few moments to realize that Friday wasn't just near them by accident. The smallest of the two, a slim brunette about 5'4 parted slightly and gave Friday a 'come on in' smile. The taller blonde blew Friday a kiss making the invitation clear.
Friday nodded and smiled back.

"Little by little we cross the line
Little by little the ties that bind
Little by little by little by little
Little by little tonight

You beg and you cry for more
You pull me down here on the killing floor

Little by little we cross the line
Little by little the ties that bind
Little by little by little by little
Little by little tonight"

Just as she was going to move closer, the track stopped. Friday cast a glance towards the guy, who she could tell was still planning to make a move on her.

"Mind if I join you, "She asked the two women.

"Sure honey," the blonde one said, and glanced appreciatively at Friday's leather clad legs and hips.

The conversation was put to an end, by the next track, as Friday's two new companions started to dance once more, and beckoned Friday to join them in a threesome. Friday smiled and moved closer in.

"Take another bite
It'll be alright
What's wrong will soon feel right
Dangerous tonight
Take another sip
Let it kiss your lips
And let a little drip on your thighs
If you let me I'll untie your sensuality
I'll open up your heart and satisfy my greed."

The brunette started 'accidentally' brushing her thighs against her thighs, and Friday responded by dancing ever closer, so that their lips were almost touching. Friday decided that being a tease was the best course of action, so with a smile pulled back a few inches.

"I'm dangerous, I'm a dying breed
Poisonous like a centipede
I'm capable of the foulest deed
Dangerous at night
I'm dangerous like a razorback
Deadly like a heart attack
Well, I don't bend and I don't crack
Dangerous tonight

Take another turn
The rules have all been burned
And you've got tricks to learn
Dangerous tonight"

The taller blonde gave Friday and her dancing partner a look that said, she didn't want to be left out. Friday gave the blonde a seductive look, and blew a kiss in her direction. The blonde smiled and positioned herself to Friday's right and started to run her fingers down Friday's neck, back and hips. The Brunette got the idea and moved to Friday's left and started the doing the same. For her part Friday loved not only the attention, but the sensations of their feminine fingers on her body.

"Play another role
Try and lose control
And stain your soul to red from white
In my mind, oh, a million voices tell me no
Its prime crime time and I gotta let it go"

Friday responded by playfully pushing the brunette and then the blonde away, and then pulling the blonde back closer for a long kiss. Pushing the Blonde away she repeated the kiss for the brunette before resuming the same sensual and suggestive movements as before.

"I'm dangerous like a broken glass
I'm a flesh fanatic psychopath
I can cause you pain and make it last
Dangerous tonight
I'm dangerous when the sun goes down
So cross yourself, don't fool around
I'll drag your heart into the ground
Dangerous tonight"

Over the brunette's shoulder Friday spotted her Guild Faction contact sit down at a table, look around and then finally he spotted her and gave her an annoyed look. Friday casually checked out her Biker admirer, he'd finally got the message and moved on.

"If you let me I'll untie your sensuality
I'll open up your heart and satisfy my greed"

Gently leading her 'girlfriends' upwards from their squatting position near her groin she gave each one another long kiss, before pushing them away once more.

"I'm dangerous, I'm a dying breed
Poisonous like a centipede
I'm capable of the foulest deed
Dangerous at night
I'm dangerous like a razorback
Deadly like a heart attack
Well, I don't bend and I don't crack
Dangerous tonight

I'm dangerous like a broken glass
I'm a blood bubonic psychopath
I can cause you pain and make it last
Dangerous tonight"

The song ended, "Want a Drink?" the blonde one asked hopefully.

Friday shook her head, "Maybe later, I have some business first."

The two women looked a little disappointed and with a long, lingering look Friday walked past them and towards the Guild Faction agent who was looking a little bored.

Friday sat down on the chair next to him thinking of all the pain and suffering she would cause him when the time came.

"Enjoy your dance?" The Guild Faction Agent commented angrily.

"Why, Jealous? Or maybe it turned you on!" Friday quipped.

"I have booked a room upstairs, where we can talk above all this." the Guild Faction agent gestured to the dance floor, "Noise."

"After you," Friday gestured for the Guild Faction Agent to lead on.

Mingling past the crowded bar, the Guild Faction Agent led her to a secluded dimly lit stairwell. She followed him up a flight of stairs and followed him into a side room.

The Guild Faction Agent flicked on the light, and Friday saw the room was sparsely furnished with only a small sofa, a bed and a drinks cabinet.

The Guild Agent walked past the bed, sat down on the sofa and gestured for Friday to sit next to him.

"I'd rather stand," she said and stood away from the door, with her back to an outside wall. No point in making yourself an unnecessary target she mused.

"We have another job for you," The Guild agent pulled out a blue folder and tossed it onto the bed.

Friday walked over to the folder and picked it up, "What is it?"

"A high priority target is coming to the US in two days. We need someone of your skills to perform an assassination. The details of the target are inside the folder."

Friday's heart sank, she didn't even need to open the folder, but did so anyway. The photograph of her intended target was that of Ambassador Hashim Kadhim. She did her best to hide her recognition and covered it with saying "Who's this?"

"That man is Ambassador Hashim Kadhim, the new incoming Saudi Ambassador. He is heavily guarded and in spite of our now limited, but best efforts we have yet to get any one close to him. That is where you come in."

"You want me to kill him?" Friday said.

The Guild agent nodded, "At your earliest and best convenience. You know what will happen if you fail. We will expect to hear news of his death within the next five days. We'll leave it up to you on how you kill him. Just ensure that it's done."

"Ok, I can't pretend to like it. But consider it done," Friday replied, struggling to keep the anger and outrage she felt under control.

"Oh, and one last thing. We require proof of his death. Bring us a thumb so we can compare the DNA with that we have collected already," the Guild agent said almost as an afterthought.

Friday swore under her breath, "Sure. I'll bring his head if you want."

"No, just a thumb will do," The Guild agent replied.

"Is that it?"

"That's it. We will contact you after the event."

"Can I keep the folder?" Friday asked.

"No. Read it here and give it back to me. We can't afford for it to fall into unfriendly hands. I'm sure your new girlfriends won't mind you reading it here for a while."

"It was just a one dance stand. I guess I've some reading to do," Friday replied.

"Be my guest. If you need anything I'll be right here," The Guild agent remarked.

Friday sat down on the bed and ignored the feelings of being watched and evaluated. A quick first pass of the Guild's Intel showed her that they knew a hell of lot more about Ambassador Kadhim than the CIA did. It even had the info on the new bodyguard that Steve was busily trying to get.

She studied the layout of the Saudi embassy, and copies of Ambassador Kadhim's diary for the next week. There was a key window of opportunity, three days from now. Ambassador Kadhim and family were due to meet the Redskins on a special VIP tour that lasted for an hour. According to the notes Ambassador Kadhim's youngest son was a real football nut and his father had arranged a special tour. Ambassador Kadhim would be vulnerable in the limo journey either to or from the stadium.

Friday's heart sank. The thought of killing this little boy's father, almost in front of him was just horrific. Her dilemma was obvious. Let Ambassador Kadhim live and her unborn daughter would almost certainly be killed. Kill him and not only would Heinlein would become suspicious of her real agenda, but it would screw up US/Arab relations for years, and put the Guild once more in a position of prominence.

She considered informing the real, UN controlled Guild of the operation, hoping they might be able to help. But that had no guarantee of either secrecy or success. The Real Guild couldn't know about this particular splinter group or they would have dealt with it, or at least passed on information as to its leaders and capabilities.

She was positive that the CIA could design a counter mission, but that would involve her telling the authorities, besides she had a glimmer of an idea on how to kill Ambassador Kadhim and yet let him live. For it to work properly she would need help, but help from someone who could shield her from any backlash or negative consequences. She knew just the person!

She read for over two hours, memorizing every detail of every document and cross referencing with what she had read here and at home. "Done," she said neatly packing the documents back into their folder.

"Are you sure, you will not be allowed to view them again," The Guild agent asked.

Friday nodded, "Positive. Want to hear the plan?"

The Guild Agent nodded, "Please."

Friday explained, "His diary shows that he and his family are taking a trip to view the Redskins football team. His six year old son is a huge football fan and being the family man he is, Ambassador Kadhim has given over an hour or so to tour the stadium with his kids. He has insisted on taking only minimal security as he feels as though it gets in the way. He then has a separate appointment with the Jordanian ambassador, while his wife and kids are due to view the schools they can send the kids to. Therefore its logical Ambassador Kadhim will be alone, apart from his driver and maybe bodyguard."

The Guild agent nodded his approval, "And then?"

"I'll replace the driver, and take out any bodyguards. A couple of questions do you want this to look like an accident, or an execution and secondly, do you want it to be obvious the Guild killed him?"

The Guild agent, thought for a moment, "Execution, and yes we want to be known as the ones who killed him."

Friday nodded, she had thought that might be the case, "I'll need a small amount of Hashish as per your usual calling card. I'll drive him out of town, swap cars somewhere quiet and kill him in the usual manner, remove the thumb, and then drive somewhere and leave the body and torch the car."

"Very good, and how will you escape?" The Guild agent asked.

"Change into a different form, and use the car I dropped off at the kill site. Just like I did with Omar. How is he by the way?" Friday asked. Inside she was smiling, only a few months to go before Omar's flesh would be eaten away from the inside.

"Omar is fine, and is in a secure location. It is a good plan, tomorrow we will ring you and ask for Pizza hut. You'll then say it's a wrong number and hang up. Go to the hot dog stand nearest your local mall and buy a jumbo sized hog dog with mustard, onions and relish. The seller will give you a bag to carry it in. Inside the bag will be the keys to a silver Toyota Camry. It will parked next to the hair stylists just outside the mall itself. Inside the car you'll find the hashish and a silenced SR-2 Machine pistol. Anything else?"

"I think that's all," Friday replied professionally. Now all she needed to do was pull her real plan off.

"Then you may go," The Guild agent dismissed her with a gesture of the hand.

Friday's dancing partners were nowhere to be seen as she made her away across the packed dance floor, and out into the fresh air.

Her mind was racing, her counter plan had too many variables to be sure of success, and worst of all she would need to call in a favor. She opened the car and rummaged in the glove box for her cell phone. She dialed a phone number she swore she'd only use in dire emergency, now was certainly one of those.

The phone rang for a few seconds and a voice answered "President Roberts."

22. Calling In The Big Guns.
----------------------------------

"President Roberts, it's good to hear from you again," Friday said.

"Who is this? How did you get this number?" The President demanded.

"Hold on a moment please," Friday paused for a few moments and adjusted her voice to that of her old Dr Bexley self, "Is that any better?" She asked.

"YOU! I thought we had an agreement?" The President snapped.

"We do sir, just that something's come up, that demands your attention," Friday explained.

"Something that can't be dealt with via the normal channels?"

"Yes sir, I believe so. I have received information that a Guild splinter group is planning to assassinate the new Saudi ambassador," Friday went on.

"Yes I know. I saw the Intel a couple of days ago. Surely your handlers and superiors can deal with it?"

"Normally they can sir, it's just that I have identified an area of weakness, that will allow us to take down this entire splinter group, but it requires complete secrecy to be effective. The reaction of your administration must be 100% genuine or it will fail. If I tell Heinlein and he then gets clearance from higher up etc, then firstly we'll be out of time, and secondly it won't be convincing enough for the Guild Faction to make their error. They'll know we're onto their scheme." Friday didn't even need to mention that that would mean the certain death of her daughter.

"I see, and how come the whole CIA, NSA and FBI haven't seen this error?" The President asked.

"Mr. President, with all due respect to them, you know my capabilities, they are too blinkered in their views and assumptions. If it weren't for me, you'd now be embroiled in world war three. The Guild splinter group's fatal error will be their over confidence. They only have limited resources, and this will cause them to over stretch. Their once tight knit organization will fracture under their desire for greater recognition and power. Old rivalries will re-emerge as each member vies for power and prestige, and then they will ready to be picked off one by one."

"And what do your handlers want to do?" The President asked.

"They have asked me to stop the assassination, in the hope that I can catch or identify the killer. They will then use that information to slowly unravel the web surrounding this Guild splinter group."

"A cautious plan," The President confirmed.

"Yes sir, but one that is doomed to fail. Firstly, whoever the Guild Faction use will be the best in the business, they won't be captured or be able to be linked with the Guild Faction themselves. Secondly, my chances of finding the killer before they make the hit are slim at best. There are too many exposures for a single hit man to exploit . Even if I save the Ambassadors life the trail will go cold, and by the time we make any inroads into their organization it'll be too large again to take down easily. We need to strike now, while they are still small."

"I see. Have you tried to explain this to your handlers?"

"Yes," Friday lied, "They saw my point but stated the plan is the plan."

"So what do you want to do?" The President asked.

"I want to make it appear as though the ambassador has been killed, so that the Guild Faction will start to over extend and fracture. This is another reason why I called sir, in order for this to work then you will need to ensure that the Saudi's don't create hell over it. If I went thru normal diplomatic channels, then the Guild Faction is sure to hear about it and ruin our only chance to take them down. This needs to be done leader to leader," Friday said, in her most convincing tone.

"What you are asking is a big deal," The President said.

"Yes sir, I know. I hoped that because of our past understanding you would trust me on this. You know I wouldn't call unless I considered it a dire national emergency. Sir, I know the Guild Faction set off the bomb that killed all those people, and that they were almost certainly responsible for the rescue of that terrorist a week or so ago. Sir, we have one chance to stop these men, and I firmly believe that the way I've outlined is the only way to do it."

There was a long pause on the phone, clearly the President was weighing up the options. What seemed like an eternity later his voice asked, "What do you need? I'll get some people on it."

"Thank you sir! But this needs to be handled by yourself, firstly I'm supposed to be dead, secondly I'm a changeling and thirdly your administration reaction needs to be spot on. So we have to keep this just between ourselves."

"Ok, I'll handle it," The President replied.

"Thank you sir! Firstly I'll need you to make sure I don't get fired, killed for violating the terms of my pardon or even reprimanded for the actions I'm going to take. Secondly, you will need to smooth things over internally and with the Saudi's." Friday paused to allow the President time to write it all down.

"I'll also need a pick up truck, any common van, blood transfusion equipment, ten pints of blood group type O, access to a safe house, some hedge sheers, a flashlight, about 3 yards of rope, a Washington state police officers uniform(female), I'll also need a small sample of Ambassador Kadhim's DNA, you'll be able to get that from when he uses the washroom on the flight over, A secure cell phone, oh and I'll also need some sedative in an IV drip, a dart gun containing sedative darts, and a small foal."

"Foal?" The President confirmed.

"Yes sir, any breed will do, so long as it weighs no less than 200lbs."

"Dr Bexley, tell me you know what you are doing?" The President asked worriedly.

"Yes sir, I know exactly what I'm doing. Put all the all the hardware in the van and pickup truck and leave it parked here at around 11pm in two days time, "Friday gave a grid reference in an industrial area a few miles away from the Embassy, Then leave the foal tied up at following coordinates," Friday confirmed, and outlined a grid reference just outside of the city.

"Anything else?" the President asked.

"No sir. I'm sorry to do this to you, but I'm as desperate to nail these bastards as you are," Friday replied.

"Do you have any idea as to their overall plan?" The President asked.

"Not really sir. From their moves so far I would estimate that they are in a rebuilding phase. Hence wanting Omar busted out, and this prestige mission."

"I agree. That's what our analysts are saying too. We're going to be working quite close with the UN controlled Guild to bring these people down. Let me know how it goes. I'm really pushing the boat out on this one, if it were anyone but you asking…"

The President didn't need to complete the sentence. The only reason why he'd listened and agreed to help was because he still owed her.

"Yes sir, I understand," Friday replied meekly.

She drove home in silence feeling a little elated. She may well have a chance of pulling this off.

--- oo ---

Friday got home just after 2am, to find that Steve still wasn't home. She walked to her bedroom and noted her stupidity at not putting away the documents she'd left scattered on the table. Good job Steve wasn't here! Hurriedly she cleared them away into her secure briefcase and it was then she realized she smelt of smoke and nightclub.

She'd need to wash her clothes and take a shower before going to bed, otherwise Steve would wonder what she'd been up to. For sure he wouldn't approve of her 'dirty dancing' exploits and even less of doing the ultimate end run around on him and Heinlein.

She retrieved the letter and envelope from her coat pocket and after placing it in a skillet to it outside to set fire to it using the matches she'd collected on the way past.

After ensuring that it was well and truly burnt and dispersed where no one could find the remains, she took the skillet inside and washed it up. The last thing she did before hitting the shower was to peel off her T-shirt and put that onto wash. Her leather pants and coat would have to wait until she could drop them off at the dry cleaners.

She then had a long relaxing shower, making sure that any trace of nightclub smoke, and lipstick from her dance partners was rinsed away from her raven black hair and face.

She had only just got to bed, when she heard Steve walk in and go to his room. She smiled to herself, if only he knew what she'd been up to!

--- oo ---

Steve was still in bed when the doorbell rang at 9:25 exactly and Friday opened it, still in her dressing gown. Standing at the door was a middle aged, balding man with a thin gray beard. His gray suit and yellow tie just added to image of average ness about the man. Maybe he thought he looked cool in it, but Friday thought he just looked like a typical suit from any organization from GM to Microsoft.

"Hello Dr Briggs. Long time no see," Friday commented.

Dr Briggs glanced Friday up and down, "Do you need some time to change?"

"Please. I had a late night," Friday replied.

"Oh?" Dr Briggs said curiously.

"Nothing for my favorite psychological evaluatator to worry about. I'll be back in a few minutes. You know where the kettle and coffee are, help yourself."

Walking back into her room, Friday was sorely tempted to put on her new PVC microskirt and knee high boots, or even mimic Sharon stone's basic instinct stunt but thought better of it so she decided to wear one of her conservative going to school outfits. However as a nod to her wilder side, she put in the blood drop earrings she'd worn the night before.

Dr Briggs had just started to sip his coffee as she emerged into the living room. He'd already got his pen and pad out on the small coffee table, "Ms Carrell, please take a seat."

"Friday please," Friday said. She'd asked to be called Friday at every eval she'd had, but it hadn't done any good. She sat down on the sofa opposite Dr Briggs.

"Ms Carrell. As you know, you are one of the 0.5% of people who polygraphs of any description won't work on. So as usual I'm going to set a video camera up, that will record your every eye and facial movement. We'll then analyze it frame by frame to determine the nature of your responses. Do you agree to this procedure?"

"Sure, go ahead." Friday replied casually. Dr Briggs had not been told of her changeling abilities or her real identity, only that she could fool any lie detector test and that she knew psych eval procedures and questions inside out. Being able to control every cell of every muscle made lie detectors useless, and even the record and analyze later method Dr Briggs used was no more accurate as she wanted it to be.

She did enjoy playing games with him, leading him down the line of questioning she wanted him to only to find it was a dead end. Immensely frustrating for him, immensely pleasurable for her.

Dr Briggs took a few moments to set up a JVC camcorder on its tripod and focus it in on her face. He pressed record and sat down again, "Ms Carrell, if you always look at the camera we'll be just fine."

Friday nodded, "Sure!"

"I notice you've changed your hair color. What bought that on?" Dr Briggs asked.

Straight to the point already, no change there, Friday thought, "I just fancied a change. My original color made me look a little young. Do you like it?"

"Did you want to look older then?" Dr Briggs queried.

So let the games begin. Friday thought, "It helps at school. Also because of the gun incident at school, I kept getting looked at and stopped. Changing the hair at least made sure I'm more anonymous."

"How are you and Steve getting along?" Dr Briggs asked.

Friday was so tempted to say 'We're doing fine. We had a wild fuck fest a few weeks back', but just answered, "It's going ok. I've still got lots to learn. Has he been talking about me?"

"Ms Carrell, you know we cannot discuss what your colleagues have said or not have said."

"Silly me I forgot, " Friday said in her most bimbo fashion. There that'd give him something to think about!

"Please pay attention. I'm going to ask you a series of questions. Please answer as quickly as possible."

Friday nodded,

Dr Briggs picked up his pen and referred to his notes, "You're walking along a beach, you see a turtle that has been washed up onto the shore. It's on its back and will die unless it's helped. What do you do?"

"Depends," Friday said.

"On what?"

"If it will die no matter what I do. If it will live, I'll flip it over, if not I'll kill it to put it out of its suffering," Friday said. She knew what the follow up was going to be.

"So you decide if it lives or dies?" Dr Briggs asked.

"That's the point of the question isn't it? I'm being asked to choose."

Dr Briggs wrote something down in his notes.

Friday sat back, she was enjoying this.

Dr Briggs, the proceeded to ask Friday a whole series of questions where she was asked to rank things 1-5 or say what extent she agreed or disagreed with a subject.

By time the 100th question came along Friday's enthusiasm had waned. It didn't usually go on this long. Maybe Heinlein was concerned over her change of dress, hair and attitude.

"What was the last song you listened to?"

"Alice Cooper, Dangerous tonight," Things had started getting interesting again.

"Why that one," Dr Briggs asked.

"It was just on, when I went out for some air last night. I didn't choose it!"

"What would you have chosen?"

"Not sure. Maybe something by Mozart," Friday tried not to smile. They would know she was covering something up. That'd confuse them for a while.

"Do you remember any of the lyrics of the last song you heard?" Dr Briggs asked.

Friday nearly gave the game away, but didn't let her mask slip, "Let me see, oh yes
" I'm dangerous like a broken glass
I'm a blood bubonic psychopath
I can cause you pain and make it last
Dangerous tonight"

She watched Dr Briggs make some more copious notes with some amusement.

"We nearly done?" she asked.

"Almost, Have you ever worked for an organization called the Guild?"

Where the fuck had that question come from? "For a while, it's not something I'm proud of."

More note taking, "And what did you do for them?"

"I killed people," Friday said sadly. She swore to herself, she been too complacent and had nearly been trapped.

"How many people did you kill?" Dr Briggs asked.

"Too many," Friday replied.

"More than 10, more than a hundred?" Dr Briggs asked.

"Too many," Friday replied refusing to be drawn. Here it comes; she thought and prepared her body to mask any response she might make. The absence of an emotional response told just as much as the presence of one so she'd need to be careful.

"Do you still do work for the Guild," Dr Briggs asked, looking straight at her.

"No! I hate the bastards!" she spat.

"Why?"

"Isn't killing people enough?" Friday replied as bitterly as she could.

"You see a man in a night club eyeing you up, what do you do?"

Fuck! Had she been followed? "Ignore him. I've not got time for relationships."

"The man is someone you find attractive. Do you still ignore him?"

"Yes. I'm choosy who I date."

Dr Briggs looked down his list, "Same question, but there a woman eyeing you up, how do you react?"

"Still ignore her. I'm strictly hetro."

"She comes up to you and makes a pass, what do you do?"

"Let her down gently. Like I said I'm hetro and choosy," Friday replied. Was this just part of the test or did Heinlein have these slipped in to try and see how she would react?

"Do you like my tie?" Dr Briggs asked.

"No, it sucks. It should be a blue silk one. It makes you look anonymous."

"My wife bought it for me as a birthday present, does that change your opinion?"

"No, you need to take it back and change it," Friday replied.

"Thank you Ms Carrell that will be all. I'll pass on the results to your supervisor and they will take it from there. Dr Briggs stood up and switched the camcorder off, and started to clear away.

"No blacked out van outside waiting for me?" Friday quipped.

Dr Briggs didn't even smile, no doubt he was as annoyed at being played with, as much as Friday had enjoyed doing the playing. "I'll see myself out," Friday opened the door in order to let Dr Briggs out, still clutching all his gear.

"You passed then?" Steve said from around the corner.

"I'm not locked up, or shot so I must be ok," Friday commented.

"I don't know why they even bother with you. Every time you give them a 'Class A headfuck'," Steve said, walking into the room and sitting down on the sofa.

"Regulations I guess, that and I suppose it does tell them something, even if it's not the same thing every time. I could do with a coffee after all that," Friday said giving a yawn.

"Kettles on, what time did you finish last night?" Steve asked.

"Around 2am. How'd you do?"

"Not good. The new guy checks out. Back to square one, You?" Steve said. The frustration was evident in his voice.

"Better. Do we have anymore detail on Ambassador Kadhim's diary. It seems as though he's got a personal appointment in the afternoon that we have no info on. Depending on what he's got planned that's when he's most vulnerable," Friday explained.

"No, he doesn't trust us at all. All we've got is all we've got," Steve sounded disappointed.

"I guess I'll have to keep a close eye on him at that time. Has Heinlein arranged for him to be watched?"

"No The Guild Faction will spot us a mile off. We want them to try to make the hit so we can ID the killer, we just don't want them to succeed. So what's your plan?"

Friday was about to speak, when she heard the kettle boil.

"That'll be me, usual?" Steve offered.

Friday nodded, and watched Steve get up and walk to the kitchen. She was grateful that Heinlein had decided not to put any watchers on it, it would make her task easier. His caution was well founded though, the Guild Faction would spot them a mile away, just as she would.

So far the day had gone ok, she still had her changeling test to do, which of course would need to be faked.

"Here you go, drink it while it's hot!" Steve had returned from the kitchen, mug of steaming coffee in each hand.

"Thanks," Friday said taking hers.

"So what do we have?"

"All his staff seem to check out, as do the embassy ones. If the Guild Faction wanted to kill a Saudi ambassador they could have done it at any time. Therefore it's logical to assume it's none of them. That must mean they've hired someone from outside. I'll need some ID to get inside the embassy and pose as a cleaner."

"Ok done," Steve replied.

"I'll then keep an eye on what goes on, and ensure I'm in the right place should the hit take place in the embassy building. I'll then have to follow them to wherever their personal engagement is, I'll need a full change of clothes, any gender any size. I shouldn't need any real ID, but get me a drivers licenses just in case. I'll then scope out things as and when. If the hit is going to take place it'll be out in the open, where the shooter can get away.

"Agreed," Steve confirmed.

"What if the hit is later on in the week?" Friday asked after taking a sip of her coffee.

"It won't be. Our best sources tell us it's going to be in two days time. Once the ambassador is settled in, it'll be very hard to get to him. Their only window is when he just arrives," Steve explained.

'Or whenever I turn up' Friday thought to herself. "Makes sense. When do we meet Heinlein?"

"Just after your changeling test. Which is at 14:00 I've got a dead drop to collect for Heinlein, I'll come and back and do you then."

"Ok, thanks. We hardly seem to spend any time together!" Friday complained.

Steve nodded sadly, "Yeah. It'll calm down. But for the mean time I'll cya," Steve stood up and gave Friday a peck on the cheek.

"Later," Friday said and returned the kiss.

When Steve had left, Friday settled down to work out the final details of her plans. She now had three to contend with, the one she'd told the Guild Faction, the one she'd told Steve and the real one. For this to work she would have to comply with all three.

Was she really followed to the nightclub last night? The evidence seemed to be there to say she was, but if that was the case how come they'd not pulled in her for questioning? Still, thanks to her call last night, she could rely on the President to bail her out and she could then claim she was seeing the Guild Faction in order to plan ways to thwart their scheme. She'd rather not have to use that particular ace in the hole unless she had to. Maybe, they were watching her to see what her next move would be before acting. These thoughts changed nothing, she had a cast iron alibi as a failsafe so she could safely proceed.

She finished off her Coffee and walked off to the bedroom to change into her swimsuit.

--- oo ---

Steve arrived back at 14:00 precisely. "Here we go," he said placing a briefcase on the dining room table.

"Which arm do you want," Friday asked playfully.

"Left I think. You know the drill by now, usually the test in done in the presence of two witnesses, one of which is your supervisor, and the other a trained observer. However in your case it's done here and with just me," Steve replied.

Friday rolled her sleeve up, while Steve opened the briefcase and took a single test tube, a syringe, and a bottle containing a yellow liquid.

Friday numbed the pain receptors in her left arm, so she didn't even feel the needle go in and draw 10CC's of blood, "There we go," Steve said removing the needle.

A fraction of a second later Friday had sealed the wound. In the meantime Steve had put half of the blood into a test tube and was about to drop some of the yellow liquid inside.

"Testing if I'm really me huh?" Friday said.

Steve nodded, and placed a drop of the changeling organ test into the test tube. Within moments it turned bright green, "Yup you're still you..."

"Phew, Want a hand with the Stelazine sample?" Friday offered.

"Nah I got it anyway I need to make sure you're being a good girl and taking your medicine," Steve remarked picking up another test tube and filling it with the rest of Friday's blood. After securing it with a stopper he wrote the date and time of the sample and then signed it.

After placing the test tubes back in the briefcase, Steve took out a third tube and Friday watched as he picked up a small test tube of ordinary blood, and dripped a few drops of the changeling organ test into it. Naturally it stayed clear.

"I thought of a way I could defeat these tests pretty easily, "Friday said.

"Oh how?"

"I'd create small impermeable membranes in my arm and inject them with blood from someone else. I'd then use a mechanism, similar to the way a placenta works to pass the O2 from my bloodstream into the membrane, so keeping it alive. Any needle would draw blood from my non changeling stock and so give a negative result."

"What a devious mind you have," Steve commented and finished signing and dating the samples, "At least this way we can be sure who you really are and if you have been behaving."

"As you can see I've been a good little changeling," Friday said with a smile.

"Apparently so. I need to get these back to Heinlein and get my own tests done by him. You really made being in the CIA a pain in the arm didn't you," Steve returned the smile.

"Just be glad you're not higher up, they have to be done weekly at senator level and above."

"They must have arms like junkies," Steve joked.

Friday smiled, "Probably. Anyway, if I'm not much mistaken we have the whole day together, well, after I drop some stuff off at the dry cleaners."

"I think we do. Meet you back here at 4?"

"Agreed. It's a bit late for a picnic, how about staying in for Pizza and a movie? I can't stay up too late. I've got a big day tomorrow," Friday suggested.

"Calm before the storm huh? Sure, it's a date," Steve replied and picked up the briefcase ready to leave.

"Cya. Actually, do me a favor and drop my dry cleaning and my boots to be cleaned off for me," Friday asked. If Steve commented about it smelling of smoke, she'd know she hadn't been followed. If he made no comment she could assume that she had as Steve would already know about her little excursion. Of course he might not notice, but he was trained to instinctively spot little details like that. It would be she decided an interesting litmus test.

"Sure, usual place?" Steve asked.

Friday nodded, just then the phone rang and seeing as she was closest Friday got to it first.

"Hi is that Pizza Hut?" A friendly, cheery voice sounded.

Friday did her best not to tense up, "Sorry wrong number."

"Oh ok, thanks," The person hung up.

"Who was that?" Steve asked.

"Wrong number?" Friday stated as casually as she could muster. The call meant that the Guild Faction had all the equipment she'd requested ready and waiting for her.

"Where's your dry cleaning?" Steve offered.

"Still in my room, thinking about it, I'd actually like to take a trip to the hair salon before we go out, so you can drop me off at the mall on your way to Heinlein," Friday stated, standing up ready to go and collect the leather pants and coat.

"I thought your could grow any hair style you liked?" Steve asked, confused.

"You really don't understand women do you! You don't just go to the stylists to get a haircut, it's the whole being pampered thing. Maybe I should make you one for a while?" Friday teased.

"Fuck off! Don't even think about it!" Steve snapped.

"Don't worry, your manhood's safe with me, now that I know what it's like that is, " Friday said with a suggestive smile, "I'll go get my washing, I'll meet you in the car," Friday turned and walked to her room, collected the two bags of clothes and after locking the door behind her got in the car with Steve.

Friday deliberately placed the bags in between her legs, so that Steve would detect any smell and maybe comment on it. "All set? " she asked.

"Sure," Steve replied and started the car.

They had driven just a block or so down the road, when Steve turned to Friday and asked "Did you go out last night?"

"Why do you ask?" Friday replied.

"I can smell cigarette smoke, like the odor you get from going to a nightclub," Steve glanced down at the bag between Friday's legs.

"I did, for a while. I do like to have a life y'know," Friday replied casually. Steve had asked the question, but hadn't given her enough of a clue to determine if he knew where she'd been.

"I'm not sure if Heinlein, or even I approve of you going off to a nightclub when you should have been planning for this op," Steve said critically.

"I needed some time out. In any case it's obvious what needs to be done. Shadow Ambassador Kadhim and make sure I get in the way of the bullet or whatever. We know so little about his movements tomorrow that's the best we can hope for. If you ask me, the operation has less than a 20% chance of success. Make sure you tell Heinlein that too. Unless we get more intel by this time on Saturday we'll have one dead diplomat."

"He already knows the odds are against you. That's why were using you. At least with you we have a 19.4 % chance as opposed to less than 10% using anyone else, damn!" Steve swore as the lights turned red just as he was nearing them.

"I guess he didn't want to tell me in case I got depressed," Friday commented.

"Friday, all we ask is that you do your best to save Ambassador Kadhim's life. These past few months I've seen you do extraordinary things. We know you'll pull something spectacular off to save his life."

"Thanks. I'll try," Friday said. Steve was right, what she had planned was fairly spectacular but also horribly complex in it's timing and scope.

Steve started to drive off, the light now green again. "Do you want me to pick up your clothes on the way back?" he asked.

"I doubt they'll be done in time. I'll go as and when I get the time," Friday pointed out.

"So how are you going to have your hair?" Steve asked.

"Shorter probably. Just past shoulder length is ok, but it's a pain in combat. I'll get it cut to about an inch above my shoulders; but given a little more body and fringe," Friday gestured to show Steve what she meant.

"I'm sure it'll look stunning whatever you have done. By the way, I thought hair was dead, how can you change its color and style?" Steve asked.

"I re-absorb it via the roots and then re-grow it to suit, otherwise I'd drop hair everywhere. Not ideal!" Friday explained.

"I guess. Anyway, I have some planning and thinking I need to do before I see Heinlein. Excuse me if I'm not talkative for a while," Steve said.

"Sure," Friday replied and fell silent. She was looking forward to having her new look completed.

Ten minutes later, Steve had dropped her off and the mall and as she walked towards the stylists she noticed a silver Camry sitting just where the Guild Faction had said it would be. For sure she'd done other missions before but the reality of what she was about to do hit home for the first time. In spite of the CIA's projections, she had to have a 100% success rate in this mission. But that would come later, now she needed some chill out time. She turned the corner and went into the Salon.

It took forty minutes for her to be called up. She'd used the time just reading 'Hello', 'Cosmo' and all kinds of other women's magazines. She couldn't help but give a wry smile at some of the articles. How lucky some women were that all that had to worry about was the state of their hair, who they were going to marry and what their astrologer had said. One article did catch her eye. 'Rachel Martin beauty tips' she had to smile, what a con! Nothing on earth could make any woman look like Rachel Martin, she'd designed that face and body to be an impossible to attain symbol of feminine beauty. Now a red hot iron, plunged into an eye had ruined that face forever, another Guild atrocity to be atoned for.

"How would Ma'am like it done?" a young blonde hairdresser asked.

"Take it above the shoulders, but keep the fringe long. I'd like to partially obscure my cheeks. Ensure it curls just under my chin, but not neat and tidy. Rough looking," Friday explained.

For the next hour Friday's hair was washed and cut, although the stylist was young she knew her stuff and more to the point Friday felt well and truly pampered. It had been ages since she'd been to a salon and she emerged feeling like a new person.

As she had hoped her new hairstyle made her looks match her killing capability, and that was her intent. To show the Guild that she would take no quarter or no mercy. The message was clear, 'Don't fuck with me'.

Now it was time for work, she walked as casually as she could up to the hotdog salesman and asked for a jumbo dog with mustard, onions and relish to go. The salesman nodded, made her hot dog and then put it inside a brown paper bag. "It's on the house," he said quietly and handed it over.

"Thanks," Friday said and took the bag.

She retrieved the hotdog and then felt the keys inside the bag, as casually as she could she palmed the keys into her pocket and tossed the bag into the nearest trash can.

The remote on the keyfob opened the Camry first time and she got inside the drivers seat and closed the door.

In the glove box, as promised was a small plastic bag of Hash, and a SR 2 machine pistol, complete with silencer. "Good," Friday said to herself. So far things were going to plan.

--- oo ---

She drove the Camry to within two blocks of her house and parked it in a nearby cul-de-sac. She'd need it later on, but it would be stupidity to park it any closer. By the time she'd walked back home, Steve was already home.

His comments on seeing her new look couldn't have pleased her more, "Fuck me! Friday what the hell have you done to your hair!"

"You're not supposed to say that. Your supposed to say "I like it"," Friday said. Inwardly smiling.

Steve smiled, "Sorry, but you look like some kind of sensual death dealing hell bitch mixed in with a little black widow. If that's what you wanted then it's perfect."

Friday nodded, "that's exactly what I wanted to look like."

Friday hung her black denim jacket up in the hall, it was a shame she hadn't had time to collect her clothes from the dry cleaner, "Want me to order the Pizza before we go out?"

Steve's face dropped, "Already done, but I've some bad news. Heinlein's got a lead on who the mole might be. He wants me to go thru some phone logs and follow them up. It'll have to be take in I'm afraid..."

"Damn! Doesn't he have a life?" Friday said sadly. Was Heinlein onto her? If he was, then why send Steve out. Why not let him have a night in doing nothing."

"Dunno, I guess if you've just nearly been blown up it would focus the mind somewhat. Anyway I made you a coffee. Oh and the dry cleaning ticket is on the side."

"Thanks," Friday wandered off from her seat in the living room to the kitchen to collect the coffee that Steve had made her.

She took a sip, of her now tepid coffee. Not wanting to offend Steve she decided to drink it anyway, quickly. Such that by the time she'd walked to the sofa and sat down the coffee cup was empty.

"Cold huh?" Steve gestured to the empty cup.

"Not quite, " Friday replied with a smile.

"Can I ask a question?" Steve asked formally.

"Anything?" Friday replied

"What's really behind your Goth chick/ vampire style mass murder/ psycho revenge killer from hell look? I don't buy the 'I fancied an image change' line though," Steve asked, looking for a response in Friday's face.

Friday sat back on the sofa, she knew the question would come soon, " The honest truth is that I fancied a change from the little miss nice image I'd had for the past few months."

"I said I didn't buy that!"

Friday nodded, "It's the truth. I decided it was time I was a little less.. Conservative."

"Hence the night club visit? Meet any nice guys?" Steve asked with a tiny hint of jealousy.

"No, but I did get touched up by a cute blonde and a brunette," Friday smiled as the look on Steve's face showed that he didn't know if she was serious or not.

"With your past history I don't know if you're kidding me or not!" Steve exclaimed.

"You'll never know," Friday made it clear she was teasing.

Steve gave her a friendly jab in the ribs, "You never do anything that simple, so what is it. Really?"

"OW!", Friday mock complained, rubbing her ribs. She then turned to face Steve, "It's what I said! Look, I lost seven years of my life due to the hatred and insanity inside of me. Do you know how old I was when I met Matthew? 25. In those lost seven years, in the process I also lost myself. I had become corrupted by evil, and stained by death. Now I'm trying to find me again. Not the me who aged 25 who proposed to the first cute guy she thought she loved, or the me who left Harvard having attained the highest scores ever in a medical degree but who I am now, aged 32 and working for the CIA. I have no idea if this," Friday gestured to her new hairstyle, "is the real me. But it feels closer to that than the little miss nice I was before."

"I think I understand," Steve said softly.

"You don't need to worry. The whole' Goth chick/ vampire style mass murder/ psycho revenge killer from hell look' as you call it isn't me relapsing. 'Lizzy' is in her rightful place. I'm still little ol me," Friday said with a smile.

"That's good to hear. I must say you do have a harder, darker edge to you than when I left for those couple of months," Steve commented.

Friday nodded, "Does it bother you?"

"Not really, but I do know Heinlein is worried about it all," Steve replied.

"I'm not surprised. He seems to spend his life itching to kill me off, or see me incarcerated for life. You'll put him right I hope."

"Of course.."

The sound of the doorbell interrupted the conversation and Steve got up to collect the Pizza.

Friday smiled inwardly. That had gone well. She was now sure they had no idea of what she was up to or indeed the murderous ruthlessness towards the Guild splinter group that hung over her like a sword of Damocles.

"Here's your Pizza," Steve said handing Friday her usual medium farmhouse thin crust.

"Thanks, What's the video?" Friday asked eyeing a VCR sized box on top of Steve's Pizza.

"X Men," Steve said, placing his Pizza on a small coffee table and walking over to the VCR.

They sat and watched the movie in silence, but Friday was highly amused and incredulous at some of the scenes.

"What was so funny?" Steve asked.

"Mystique. She really has no idea what a changeling can really do. Hell, I could have taken Wolverine in 5 minutes flat, and how does she fabricate clothes? Still all this was filmed prior to the Guild attacks so I guess I should cut them some slack. Do you think they'd let me star in the sequel?"

Steve gave a chuckle, "No I don't think so. Besides if they really let you loose, they'd have to spend most the films FX budget on stage blood and gore."

"I guess," Friday suddenly turned serious, "Steve a few months ago you said you loved me. Do you still feel that way?"

Steve took her hand is his, "Yes, that's not changed. I'm here for you. I thought you knew that?"

"Steve, I can sense what's coming. It's nothing tangible; but call it intuition. Very soon we're going to be at war with the Guild splinter Faction and I know I'm going to be in the front line."

"It's possible. You mission tomorrow is the first strike in that war," Steve replied giving Friday's hand a squeeze.

"The mission tomorrow will fail. Whoever the Guild Faction have sent won't be easy to capture or even link back to them. Even if I save the ambassadors life it's doubtful we'll get anymore than a slight hint."

"Thanks for the optimism. Look, a hint is all we need at the moment. The Guild Faction is small. If we can stop it now we won't need to escalate!" Steve explained.

"Steve, I know that. I want to know if you will be with me," Friday gently stroked Steve's hand with her fingers.

"I'm with you," Steve said softly.

"You don't yet know the price," Friday said quietly.

"Doesn't matter. It can't be worse than the two years I spent in a Guild prison," Steve said, his voice full of commitment and sincerity.

"The price is never what we think it will be. But thanks," Friday gave Steve a slow, thankful kiss.

Steve shuffled sideways, hoping for another.

"Look, it's getting late. I've a big day tomorrow," Friday said.

Steve looked not a little disappointed, "Oh, oh ok."

"But there will be other days. One last thing about the mission tomorrow," Friday said, getting up from the sofa.

"Oh?"

"Don't be surprised if you lose track of me. You won't know where I am or who I am. If you don't know, the Guild Faction won't know. When it's all over I'll give you a call," Friday explained.

"I'll clear up. See you bright and early," Steve replied, nodding his agreement.

23. Preparation And Planning
------------------------------------

Once in her room, Friday quickly changed into her jeans and sneakers. She glanced in the mirror, it would a shame to lose her new hairstyle for a while, but needs must. A few seconds later a blonde woman, around 35 years old was staring at her new rounded, brown eyed face in the mirror, "Excellent," her New York accented voice said.

Friday carefully made her bed, with pillows under the sheets. It was an old trick, but it should be enough to fool the normally cautious Steve. After collecting her cell phone and keys to the Silver Camry, She gently lifted the window open and climbed out into the cold night.

She ran to where the silver Toyota was still parked, once inside she started the engine and drove across town to where she'd asked the President for the van to be left.

As true as his word, a black van with a red stripe across and down the roof was parked inside an old warehouse right in the middle of an old abandoned industrial unit. Before she got out, she took the opportunity to change her face once more, to that of an average looking forty year old woman with shoulder length mousey hair. She collected the SR-2 and hashish from the Camry and walked to the Van.

The keys were taped just above the front wheel on the driver's side, on the inner side of the fender and she was inside within a matter of moments. She slipped the gun and hash into the glove box and then went round the back of the van to see what else had been left for her.

The rear doors were a little stiff, but with a hard pull on the chrome handle they swung open. She smiled. It was all there. In the corner was a surgical bed, complete with blood transfusion equipment. Next to it, on the floor was a large box that on inspection contained the blood she had asked for. Next to the blood supply was a small test tube. She gently lifted it out and judging by the yellowish color was a urine sample. Obviously the DNA she'd requested. They'd probably covertly obtained it from Ambassador Kadhim during his flight over.

Holding the test tube in her right hand, she grew a small talon from her left hand and dipped it into the sample. Within a matter of moments, she could feel her changeling organ start to breakdown the DNA. It would be a few minutes before she could replicate it. She put the cork back in the test tube and inserted it back into the box. She quickly closed the box to ensure the contents remained cold and fresh.

Next to the bed was a pile of rope, some hedge sheers and the remaining equipment she'd asked for. "Good," Friday commented and closed the van door.

The van's engine started first time, and Friday drove off to pick up her next item of equipment. It took her nearly an hour and a half to drive to the coordinates she'd given, a small field, surrounded by thick conifers on three sides, and a high wooden fence on the other. Using the flashlight from the van, she scanned the field for her target and found it tied up near the wooden gate.

It took moments for her to pick the lock on the gate and, leaving it open for the moment walked into the field. The foal, was no higher than Friday's arms, and was a beautiful animal. It's brown and white mottled coat felt smooth to the touch, almost like velvet. The Foal was quite tame and didn't even shy away when Friday stroked its nose. Judging from the size of it, it was exactly what she had asked for.

Concentrating hard, she grew a small two inch long talon from her right hand and plunged it into the neck of the foal. It gave a loud neigh of pain and surprise and collapsed on the floor, its whole body in spasm.

Friday turned away, she didn't particularly want to watch the changes she'd inflicted on the animal. Besides, she had too much to do to spectate. She jogged back to the van and worked to prepare the blood transfusion equipment. A few minutes later, she returned to where the 'foal' was. In its place was a perfect copy of Ambassador Kadhim. Although human looking, the full change, including brain had rendered it a comatose 'vegetable'. Although the brain was that of Ambassador Kadhim, the neural patterns hadn't been formed. The DNA was enough to tell the body what the brain was like, but not how to wire it all together. Even babies brains form connections, while in the womb. The ex foal was just like a blank sheet of paper.

Friday picked the body up, carried it into the van and placed it on the operating table. After securing it with the ropes she got into the drivers side and slowly drove off away from the field and back towards town.

She parked the Van inside an old warehouse, next to where she had parked the Silver Camry. Climbing out of the Van, she opened the rear doors, and after ensuring everything had survived the drive there started to work.

It took her half an hour to connect the transfusion equipment, such that it could run unattended. The next hurdle she had to cross was that of Ambassador Kadhim's dental records. Although she could have performed the work it wouldn't mimic the aging of any fillings or cavities. Therefore, she would have to use more unconventional methods when the time came.

She walked over to the transfusion machine and set it going. By the time she needed to use it, the fake Ambassador Kadhim would have had a complete blood transfusion, thus wiping out any trace of the transformation drug she'd used. The Guild Faction was sure to test for its presence and thus expose her deception.

She checked the ropes once more, and happy they were secure, she collected the police officers uniform and ID, locked the van and pocketed the keys. She then changed her face, back to that of the blonde she'd used before got into the Toyota and drove back home.

Once again she parked it a couple of blocks down and after collecting the police uniform, quickly sprinted back home and climbed into her room. Some blood had spattered on her hand, so she washed her hands to ensure that no evidence remained. As an experiment she tried to turn herself back into 'copper red' Friday but that didn't work and she was left looking at her ' Goth chick/ vampire style mass murder/ psycho revenge killer from hell look' as Steve had called her. On further study of her reflection, she didn't miss 'copper red' Friday at all. After cleaning her teeth and brushing her hair into shape she finally got into her PJ's and then finally into bed at around 3am.

24. Phase one.
------------------

She awoke at 6am and found Steve waiting for her in the kitchen, "You set?" he asked.

Friday nodded, "Yup, shall we go?" and she casually picked up the dry cleaning ticket. She'd need that for later.

"What's in the bag?" Steve asked, gesturing to the hold all around her shoulder.

"Some extra disguises and ID's for today. I had them dropped off when you were out. Shall we go?"

Steve nodded "We've got loads already for you, but anything that'll help!" and walked towards the car, Friday followed and made sure the door was locked behind her. It was going to be a long day.

They parked up a few blocks away, in side street just off Virginia avenue, "Just in there," Steve pointed to what looked to the rear entrance of a store.

"Ops room?" Friday asked, following Steve thru the rusted green door.

Friday walked into the ground floor of an old antiques shop, broken furniture was piled high in the corners, and with only a single dim light bulb the entire floor had a grungy decaying look. "To your right," Steve gestured and indicated a white painted door.

The interior of the room couldn't have been more different to the one she'd just come from. Although the windows had been sealed with blackout material, it was almost as bright as day. The majority of the light coming from several neon tubes above her. Scattered around were consoles and computers, each displaying a picture of some part of the embassy and its grounds.

"Cool. So you tapped into the Embassy's CCTV system?" Friday commented.

Steve nodded, "Yep. It'll make your job a lot easier," Here this is for you," he said picking up a small earpiece and passing it to Friday.

"Steve, I can't wear this. How in hell am I suppose to pass close scrutiny by Ambassador Kadhim's bodyguards with a piece of plastic in my ear, no matter how small? If I try and change the shape of my ear to cover it up, I'll just look weirder. In anycase as soon as I change faces it'll just fall out," Friday stated. Damn! If she was expected to keep in contact with them, then her whole plan would fall apart.

"We don't want you to wear it all the time, just when you are sizing people up and performing reconnaissance. Before you get close to the Ambassador or his security take it out and hide it. We'll be able to see you on the monitors."

"Ok, just don't panic if I don't respond or hear ok?" Friday said taking the ear piece and inserting it into her ear.

"It also contains a small tracking device, so we know where you are," Steve replied, walking over to one of the consoles.

Friday nodded, she'd have to ditch it as soon as she could. She heard Steve's voice in her ear, "Testing. Friday can you hear me?"

"Yeah sure. What's its range?"

"About half a mile, we can't go broadcasting all over the city, someone is bound to pick it up. Anyway, here's how it works. I'll be right here, watching and keeping you out of trouble. If I spot the hitman or trouble I'll let you know. When the Ambassador leaves to go to his appointment, you need to follow him. We should get plenty of notice via the CCTV. I'll then track your signal and move to within a half mile of your position, so I'll be real close by if you need me. Now as you know we can't be seen to interfere in any way with what the Guild Faction has planned until they reveal their hand. Which means no backup for you, other than me."

"I understand. Anything else?" Friday asked, relieved that her window of opportunity was still open.

"In the next room, we've managed to get you a maid's uniform and ID, in addition we've left some more clothes, some male, some female in a washing sack in the laundry of the of embassy. The bag has a slight tear in the side, which is how you'll know what one it is. Feel free to use any and all of them you want. What are you going to do with the ones you provided?" Steve asked curiously.

"I'll keep them in the hold all and use them if I have to. I'm not sure why supplies gave us two lots, but you know pen pushers," Anyway I'd best get changed.

Friday walked into the next room, a small room, only a little larger than a store room. Its single bulb provided only enough light for her to see what she was doing and to inspect herself in the mirror on the wall.

Friday rummaged around in the bag and pulled out a long black skirt, white blouse with a smart black jacket. The shoes were black leather with only a small practical heel, and were accompanied by a set of black heavy dernier panty hose. The ID photo card showed the woman, called Alison Steadman whose face was similar to her own, but with slightly fuller cheeks and lips, and slightly larger more prominent nose than her own. Alison's hair was longer, but still brunette. It didn't reveal Alison's body shape, but judging from the size of the clothes she was only a size larger than herself.

Friday stripped off to her underwear, imagined Alison's face and body and let the changes wash over her. Within a minute or so, the new Alison Steadman had opened her eyes and was getting dressed in her maid's uniform.

Five minutes later, Friday walked back in to the makeshift ops room to find Steve hunched over a console. He heard the 'clack' of her shoes on the wooden floor and glanced up, "Very fetching. Ready?"

Friday nodded, "Let's go," she'd given Alison a Maryland accent, not that the embassy staff would notice. She placed the earpiece inside her ear once more, and tested it again just to make sure.

Steve let Friday, still with her hold all over her shoulder, out of the side door and within moments had blended perfectly in the mass of people walking to work, shopping or otherwise going about their business.

Ten minutes later she was outside of the thick double metal gates at the rear of the embassy, she glanced around and then casually flung the hold all into a trash can.

"Steve, you there?" She asked.

"Sure, where are you?" Steve voice crackled in her ear.

"Just about to go in, what's the status?"

"All clear, the area around the Ambassadors office is real busy. I guess he's still unpacking."

"Check," Friday said quietly.

"Good luck, Steve out!"

Friday walked around the block to the side entrance of the Embassy, for sure she wouldn't be allowed in the front which was reserved for diplomats and VIP's not cleaners and Staff. She tried her ID card in the card reader to the right of the door and with a click the green light went on, "Steve, kudos to the ID guys. I'm in."

"Check. Try to keep the chat down," Steve reminded.

"Ok, Let me know if anything comes up."

Friday put the ID card back in its lanyard and hung it around her neck. She then signed her name in the book and after passing through another security check was inside the embassy proper.

Friday made her way to the stores room, and collected some cleaning equipment and headed towards the first floor area. Apart from the odd glance at her ID from the other staff she attracted little or no attention. It took her an hour to sweep the first floor. "Nothing in here. I've seen no sign of people acting suspiciously or being overly tense," She reported to Steve.

She found herself in a large marble floored conference room with a huge fireplace at one end, and an ornate clock on the mantle. The room's décor was similar to that of one of the Guild Palace's in Libya. Mosaics in the floor, white walls and in the middle was a large black marble conference table. It was only 10am and the pretense of looking for the killer was wearing a bit thin on her. She knew he wouldn't be there, but she had to make it convincing for Steve and the CIA. How diligent she was in this phase could make or break her debrief with Heinlein.

It took her a further hour to check as far as she could on the second floor, "Steve how goes it? There's a lot of secure areas on this floor, that I don't have access to," she whispered.

"All clear so far. If you go down to the laundry area and find the bag, you'll see a suit belonging to an IT technician. Take that and his ID and that'll get you into the areas on the second floor," Steve voice crackled in Friday's ear.

Carefully Friday made her way to the laundry area, and checking no one was looking quickly located a large white cotton laundry sack. As casually as she could, she picked it up and glancing around found another large storage cupboard. It took her a few moments to locate the gray suit, white shirt and tie of a man called Colin Fields who was an IT contractor. Checking the coast was clear, Friday took her maids outfit off and stuffed it and the ID in the bag.

Concentrating hard she felt her whole body change shape. She hated being male, but in this case there was no option. Two minutes later she was putting her pants and shirt on. She checked the angle of the tie in her reflection in a nearby washing machine, and combed her now thinning brown hair into some semblance of a style. Colin had to be just about the least sexy body she'd ever had to wear.

Slipping Colin's ID tag over her neck she quickly slipped back into the main corridor of the embassy and took the elevator to the second floor. Colin's ID worked first time and she slipped unnoticed into a large room full of servers. She momentarily froze as she head voices from the other side of a large rack of Compaq servers.

"Of course, the downturn in IT is just a blip. You'll see it'll all be over by next year," she heard a Californian accent state.

"Yeah. I blame the RIAA. If they hadn't shut Napster down we'd have had a whole new field of technology," Another voice stated. It reminded her of Agent Harding in Seattle.

Friday needed to check out the rest of the room but decided to wait and listen for a few moments longer, she needed to be sure the two 'nerds' were clear.

Friday hid behind the server racks for a few more minutes before slipping out again. The next restricted room was full of desktop PC's, each being used by several administrators. By the time she had checked out the remaining rooms on the second floor it was nearly noon "Steve, It's nearly noon and so far zip. You seen anything?"

"No. I've only seen the ambassador twice, he's still directing the move in his office. None of his personal staff have moved all day."

"Ok, I'm on my way up to the third floor now," Friday said quietly.

"Confirmed."

Her ID Pass didn't work on the third floor access door, so she casually tried again and then with a shrug walked away so as to look as though her pass was faulty. Her photo would have been noted on the security systems, so she needed to be careful where she went next.

"Steve, I can't get in the third floor. Can you help?"

"Damn, we were told your pass world let you in," Steve swore.

"Ok, you think they are onto us?" Friday queried.

"Don't think so. They probably changed the access lists as part of the move. Standby I'll think of something."

"K, I'm going back down to change back," Friday stated. This was going nowhere. So long as she couldn't reach the ambassador she couldn't complete her mission for the CIA.

As carefully as she could, she worked her way down to the Laundry room, located the bag containing her Alison Steadman clothes, she retrieved the bag and hid in the store cupboard once more.

Two minutes later and more than a little relieved to be female again, Friday walked out of the store cupboard and found a nearby empty room in which to plan her next move. "Steve, you copy?"

"I'm here Friday. What's up?"

"Is there anyone who has access to the third floor that's not already there? Maybe I can impersonate them for a while?" Friday asked.

"Checking, Gimmie a few minutes. Call you back."

Friday gently dusted the paintings in the room while she waited for Steve's call.

"Friday you copy?" Steve called a few minutes later.

"Here. What's the plan?"

"Bad news. Everyone who can get in there is already in. From the monitors it looks as though they'll be in there for a while."

"Damn," She had hoped to be able to impersonate one of Ambassador Kadhim's close staff, at least just to gain entrance. "I've got another idea. Wherever Ambassador Kadhim is going he's going to have to come out of the main entrance. Since we can't get to him, I'll hang around there and wait for him to come out. You give me a few minutes notice when he's on his way down. There are far too many people around to make a successful hit at the moment. So it must happen when he's out."

Steve was silent for a few seconds, "Ok, but leave around 1:30. That'll give us time to get you ready for his mystery appointment."

"K, Friday out."

By the time it was time for her to leave Friday knew every inch of the first and second floors of the embassy. Ambassador Kadhim was still on the third floor apparently supervising the last of the transfer so Friday took the opportunity to retrieve the bag of ID's and clothes and make sure it could be easily retrieved by the clear up team.

She signed out of the building at 1:35 and after collecting her hold all from the trash dashed to the building where Steve was.

On walking into the op centre she looked at Steve, "Well that was a roaring success wasn't it!" Friday said sarcastically. Inwardly she was pleased. She had obviously done her best, even though to the CIA the killer hadn't yet been identified.

"It's ok. Getting hit at the embassy was always a long shot. You'd better get ready to follow them. They leave in ten minutes, "Here we've got a car ready for you," Steve said and tossed Friday the keys.

"The black Honda I saw outside?" Friday asked

Steve nodded, "This is it, and we can't help you. Apart from being able to call in support if you need it you're on your own. Time to earn your keep."

"Ok, I'll just take a trip to the little changeling's room," Friday gave Steve a smile and went to the room she'd used a few hours before.

Friday selected face of a mousey haired, plain looking woman. Now she was just an average looking woman, driving an average car in her average life. As she put her watch back on, she checked the time. 13:50.

"About time, Ambassador Kadhim has just left the third floor with just his security detail. So far he's right on schedule!" Steve complained.

"Bye," Friday muttered quickly and gave Steve a peck on the cheek.

After collecting her hold all Friday sprinted to the Honda, started the car and drove past the embassy, just in time to see Ambassador Kadhim's limo drive away from the embassy. So far so good.

Although she knew where he was headed, she had to keep up the pretence of following him. Two minutes layer the Limo had joined the Freeway and Friday followed, keeping several cars back and varying her lane so a not to directly appear to be following. "Friday where are you?" Steve's voice was very faint in her ear.

"Just getting on the I66, heading towards George Washington Memorial Parkway."

"Ok, keep in touch, Steve out."

Six minutes later the limo parked in the VIP spaces of the Fedexfield, home of the Redskins. Next to it was another Limo, obviously that of Ambassador Kadhim's family.

Friday parked her car around the other side of the Stadium, nicely out of sight, "Steve?" she asked out loud.

"Where you?" Steve's voice was faint.

"Redskins, Ambassador Kadhim has gone in. I'm following," Friday replied and took the earpiece out and put it in her pocket. From now on she was alone.

Friday collected her hold all, locked the car and ran around the side of the stadium until she found a padlocked door to some storage area. She didn't have time to try and pick the lock, so using her changeling organ she quickly turned her finger into a thin tube and made a small amount of concentrated nitric acid. Carefully she dropped the acid onto the padlock and within a few twists it had sprung open. Once inside she removed the police officers uniform from the hold all, and then stripped off her maid's clothes and placed them in the hold all.

She felt her body change and reform into that of her Friday body. It was a nice default to use. Her new face was long and thin, with deep brown eyes and a small button nose. She'd kept her hair short, as per current police fashion, but had changed the color from mousey to platinum blonde. As a final step she took the dart pistol from the bag and put it in holster. Hopefully her target wouldn't notice.

The last thing she did was using the remainder of the acid, was drop some on the jacket she had been wearing, ensuring that a substantial amount fell into the pockets containing the earpiece. The acid would leave the plastic intact, but eat away at the metal connections rending it useless. The spillage on her jacket was to help cover her deliberate destruction of this small item of Federal property. The last thing she did was reform the tube into a finger once more.

Her housekeeping all complete, she walked out of the storage area and to ward's Ambassador Kadhim's limo.

Police notebook in hand, she adopted the 'I'm going to give you a ticket' walk commonly used by cops and was soon tapping on the drivers window, "Hands on the wheel, window down!" she demanded, adopting standard police practice.

The driver, a middle aged Arabic man with silver streaked hear and a dark moustache visibly sighed and complied.
"What is it officer?" He asked.

"You are illegally parked. This is a purple permit area. Can I see your license please sir?"

The driver sighed. No doubt he was going to reach for his diplomatic papers. He slowly reached over towards the glove box, and taking the opportunity Friday turned one of her nails into a small blade, tipped with a powerful sedative.

"See officer, we have diplomatic papers," The driver said, handing them over.

As Friday took the papers from the driver, she brushed her razor sharp nail across his finger, it was only a small nick but that was enough.
"Ow, " the driver complained and then collapsed into the steering wheel.

Friday quickly reached in thru the open window and activated the central locking. With a click the car was open and she got inside the front passenger seat of the limo. She then wound the tinted window up, so as avoid prying eyes from seeing what she was doing.

Working as quickly as she could she stripped off the Drivers shirt, tie and jacket. It was awkward dealing with such a dead weight, but the ample leg room in the front of limo was a huge help. Ten minutes later she had put the driver's pants, shirt, tie and jacket on and had taken her police officers uniform off and had left it in the footwell. She quickly transformed into a copy of the driver, moved his sedated body as far down passenger seat as she could, and shifted position to the driver's seat and as a final step put the dart gun in the driver's door pocket ready. She glanced at the clock. She had a little over 30 minutes left.

The driver would be asleep for about an hour, which was plenty of time for what she needed to do. It gave her time to take stock. As far as she could tell, she had gotten full marks for her search of the embassy. She had told Steve and the CIA where the ambassador had gone, more full marks.

Steve and co were no doubt trying to find her as they would have lost contact with the now useless earpiece. However they would only be on the scene about now, and would have no idea who or where she was. They would see Ambassador Kadhim get into a limo and drive off. Had she left any traces so far? None that she could see that would lead back to her.

Friday closed her eyes and thought about the next phase of her plan. So far so good.

Ambassador Kadhim was a few minutes late when he emerged from the Stadium holding the hands of two of his sons. The youngest was wearing a Redskin's hat and was busily waving a Redskins approved pennant. The other son was wearing a Redskins shirt. His wife was following behind, three other kids in tow, all attired in various sponsor logo'd attire.

Seeing Ambassador Kadhim's family so happy and yet just minutes away from tragedy nearly broke Friday's heart. The memories of being with her own Father came flooding back to her, how could she put this family thru what she had gone thru?

Admittedly Ambassador Kadhim would still be alive, but for her own daughter to survive they had believe that Ambassador Kadhim had been assassinated. She thought of the youngest son, crying his broken heart out at being told that his daddy wouldn't be coming back.

Ambassador Kadhim was bending down to give the youngest son a goodbye kiss, at least his family would have the comfort of knowing he loved them. She forced herself not to cry, this was the human side of assassination and she both loved and hated it.

One of Ambassador Kadhim's security team walked to her car and opened the door to let Ambassador Kadhim in, once he was inside the bodyguard sat down next to him.

" 3504 International Drive NW, Jordanian Embassy please, " Ambassador Kadhim ordered

"Yes sir," Friday said. She would wait until they left the stadium complex before making her move.

She drove a mile towards the Jordanian Embassy before casually reaching down into the driver's door pocket and picking up the Dart Gun. With a single practiced movement she turned and fired the dart into the bodyguard neck.

Ambassador Kadhim gave a gasp of horror and stared at her, "Karim!"

Friday wound the bullet proof separator plate between her and Ambassador Kadhim, and concentrated on driving once more.

She activated the intercom, "Don't worry Mr. Ambassador I'm here to save your life!"

"What is this? I demand an explanation!" Ambassador Kadhim banged on the glass with his fists.

"You have been targeted by a splinter Faction of the Guild. If you want to die, feel free to try and escape."

The mention of the word "Guild" calmed Ambassador Kadhim down. Friday glanced in the mirror at his confused face, "Who are you and who do work for?" he demanded.

"I can't tell you my real name, only that it's not Karim. I work for the people who want this Guild Faction destroyed. Don't worry about your bodyguard he's just asleep."

"What's going to happen to me! What about my family. My Government will never stand for this, this outrage!" Ambassador Kadhim's anger was rising once more.

"All in good time. Anyway we're nearly there. Be a nice little ambassador and keep quiet," Friday switched off the intercom.

She heard three shots being fired into the armored glass partition the ambassador had pulled a handgun from the bodyguard and had fired three shots at her head.
"Mr Ambassador. The bullets from that gun have to go somewhere. They won't go thru this partition, so they'll ricochet, probably into your head instead, which is not what we both want. I promise I won't hurt you. It'll all be clear soon."

The ambassador put the gun down and slumped, resigned to his fate back into his seat.

Ten minutes later, and without further major protests from the Ambassador Friday pulled the limo into the warehouse where she'd stored the van. She got out, and when the dart gun beckoned the ambassador to follow her and stand by the van.

She unlocked the van "Open the rear doors," she said to Ambassador Kadhim, gesturing with her dart gun.

With a tug Ambassador Kadhim opened the doors and gasped in shock as he spotted an exact duplicate laying on a surgical bed, surrounded by tubes and machinery.

"Night night," Friday said and shot the Ambassador in the leg.

Within moments Ambassador Kadhim was out cold and Friday dragged him inside the van. She then one by one placed the bodies into the rear seat of the limo. She collected her police officers uniform from the front footwell and took the opportunity to change back to her short blonde haired police officer. She then took the Driver's and the bodyguards clothes and slung them into the front of the van, she'd need them later.

The last thing she did was to fire a dart into the driver, to ensure that no trace of her drug could be found locked the car and left the keys in the lock. By the time they awoke she would be long gone.

25. Phase Two
------------------

Carefully driving the van across town, so as not to arose suspicion, but also make sure her cargo were ok. It took her nearly an hour to reach the field where she was 'going to do the deed' .It was miles from any real road and was very private, just what she was looking for.

She parked the van, opened up the doors and climbed inside. The first thing she needed to do was deal with clone Ambassador Kadhim. Un-strapping the comatose form from the bed she flung him over her shoulder and laid him on the floor of the Van. She then picked up the sleeping Ambassador Kadhim and placed him on the bed. She then grew a DNA sampling talon from her left hand and plunged it into Ambassador Kadhim's arm. Concentrating hard she grew another talon from her right hand and injected it into Ambassador Kadhim's arm once more.

It took only a few seconds for the changes to take effect. Ambassador Kadhim's face started to change shape, subtly but slowly. His nose altered shape from its long flat aspect, to a smaller but subtly narrower one. His thick black hair receded a few inches leaving him with a graying slightly balding head of hair. The changes completed, she took some bandages from the medical stores and bandaged his head up, so as to make it look like he'd had plastic surgery.

Part of her, a darker more mischievous part of her had wanted to make the transformation more radical, ensure that Ambassador Kadhim had to toe the line she was about to dictate; but anymore than a slight facial makeover would betray the fact that the US still had DNA transformation technology. Long term this was the safest option.

She stripped Ambassador Kadhim naked and put his clothes in a pile on the floor. Then using the clothes she'd got from Karim, the driver she dressed him again. Her final action to do was retrieve an empty test tube, and from a small talon she grew from her right knuckle she dripped in a clear liquid. When it was half full, she put the lid back on and placed it back in the box.

Ambassador Kadhim dealt with, her attention turned to the clone, still comatose and in a vegetative state. Opening its mouth she formulated some more Nitric Acid, and using a small tube she'd grown from her finger trickled the acid over the clone's teeth. The acid would dissolve the teeth in a few minutes, thus erasing the possibility of dental identification. Naturally there would be scarring inside the mouth but that mattered little. Ten minutes later she inspected the clone's mouth. All the teeth had gone, and inspecting the mouth retrieved the three or four teeth that had escaped the acid.

She collected a small bandage and the hedge sheers and then lifted the cloned Ambassador Kadhim off the floor

The clone Ambassador Kadhim was still pretty heavy and she dumped him down by the side of the van in order to collect the SR-2 machine pistol, and the Hashish.

Heaving the clone over her shoulder she walked to the centre of the field and manhandled him until he was in the kneeling position. Carefully taking aim she fired two short bursts into its head, and then as the body twitched and fell over fired another two rounds into its chest. Taking the hedge sheers she snipped off its thumb and wrapped its bloody mass in the bandage. The last thing she did was to stuff the hashish into the clones mouth.

She returned to the back of the van and waited for the Ambassador to wake up.

Half an hour later he stirred and groaned. He said something in Arabic and then screamed as he felt the bandages around his face.

"It's ok. It's just the bandages from the plastic surgery you've just had," Friday stated in her most comforting voice.

"Waa,"

The Ambassador was still groggy for another ten minutes, muttering meaningless words at random.

He clutched his face once more, "Who are you? What have you done to me!" he demanded.

"What we've done is saved your life so that in a while you can go and see your family again," Friday said in her best bedside manner.

"The Guild?" Ambassador Kadhim said in confusion.

"Were going to kill you, yes. Can you stand?" Friday asked.

"My face!" Ambassador Kadhim tried to pull the bandage off.

"You face is just fine, Leave them in place for another hour or so otherwise it'll scar. Here let me help." Friday pulled Ambassador Kadhim upright and supported him as she walked him to the dead copy.

"It's.. It's me!" he exclaimed

"Yes. The Guild will find this replica and think that their hit was successful."

"So what about me?" Friday noted the realization dawn across his face.

"You will need to go into hiding, for a short time. Say four or five months. Just long enough for us to eliminate the threat to you and your family's lives."

"My family, think I'm dead!" the Ambassador sank to his knees and started to cry.

Friday lifted him, still crying back into the back of the van and closed the door.

"Yes, I'm afraid they will. For a time anyway. It, it was unavoidable. To convince the Guild Faction you were dead their reactions have to be genuine. We need to move now, I'll explain more on the way. Are you going to be good?" Friday asked. She hated seeing the despair in his eyes.

Ambassador Kadhim nodded, "Yes."

"Ok, get in the front," Friday opened the passenger door and helped Ambassador Kadhim inside.

She started the engine and drove off, leaving the bloody body of 'the Saudi Ambassador' behind.

26. Aftermath
-----------------

"Let me get this right. This Guild Faction were due to kill me, but you and your partner rescued me. Killed a copy of me and had me surgically altered so that the Guild wouldn't come after me and my family," Ambassador Kadhim said, now feeling more with it.

"Yes," Friday confirmed, she was on the way to the pick up truck that had been left for her to use.

"How do you know that the Guild Faction was going to kill me?" He asked.

"Because I was the one they hired to do it. I don't just work for the Guild. I work for another party very interested in seeing their downfall."

"How did you create such a perfect copy?" Ambassador Kadhim asked.

"We have mastered certain facial reconstruction techniques that heal in hours and show no scarring. Such techniques are fully reversible and are unique to ourselves," Friday explained, "Speaking of which you can take the bandages off in ten minutes."

"When the Guild Faction is dead, will you turn me back?" Ambassador Kadhim asked. The fear was evident in his voice.

"That depends on how well you behave. If you stay at the safe house until we call for you, then you'll be turned back. If you let on to your family, the media or anyone your true identity, you won't. That's if they believe you that is, which I doubt. If that's not enough incentive, the Guild Faction will be right on your trail again and will no doubt catch you. You know you can't run from them. When four or five months are up, then we turn you back and you can be reunited with your family. Safe and sound!" Friday said in her most convincing tone.

Ambassador Kadhim fell silent for a few moments, "What you say is true. I will find no peace while they think I'm still alive. But my government will not take the news of my death lying down."

"That has already been dealt with. It will be fine. All you to do worry about is keeping this quiet and staying safe."

Friday pulled down a small track, making sure she couldn't be seen from the road, "You can take them off now," She gestured to the bandages.

Ambassador Kadhim was too nervous to keep his hands steady as he scrabbled to find the end of the bandages

"Here let me," Friday offered and unclipped the safety pin holding the bandages together. Slowly and carefully she unwrapped them from around Ambassador Kadhim's head.

He started into the mirror at his new face, "What have you done. I'm bald!" he exclaimed.

"No, we've just receded your hairline a little and change a few things that make up your most recognizable features. It's all fully reversible I can assure you!"

"But who will…" Ambassador Kadhim started to say.

"Recognize you. Nobody, that's the whole point. If they did you would be dead!" Friday said in a matter of fact manner.

"There are no stitches or marks, how is this so?" Ambassador Kadhim said turning his face to study his new profile.

"That is the secret. Look, we're nearly at your drop off point. Are you going to do this or not! I need to know!" Friday said.

"I, I have no choice do I?" Ambassador Kadhim said sadly.

Friday shook her head, "No I'm afraid not. Remember that could have been the real you dead in that field. Your wife could have been a real widow today and your kids really without a father. If you ever think of telling anyone remember that fact and don't!"

Friday reversed back up the track and a few miles further up pulled off the road next to a new Ford 150 truck, "The map and key to the safe house is in the truck. You new identity papers are inside too, as is $20,000 dollars cash. I know you can't thank me right now, but hopefully in a few months time maybe you might appreciate it."

"Maybe," Ambassador Kadhim said unconvincingly.

Friday reached into the side pocket of the van, pulled out a set of keys and handed them to Ambassador Kadhim. "May God go with you in all the dark places you must walk."

With a nod of acknowledgement Ambassador Kadhim got out of the van, got in the truck and after a few minutes reading the map drove off in the direction of the safe house.

--- oo ---

Friday took a deep breath and a sigh of relief, so far so good. Now all she needed to do was get back without being arrested. She rummaged in the glove compartment, pulled out the secure cell phone the President had left for as she had instructed, she paused for a moment and dialed the hotline number

The phone was answered immediately, "President Roberts," he'd obviously been waiting for the call.

"Mr President, Friday here. Just calling to let you know, that so far it's gone OK. Ambassador Kadhim is on his way to the safe house and the swap went ok," Friday said carefully.

"That's some good news at least. Someone just found the body a little over an hour ago and it's just hit the news. The shit will hit the fan in the next few hours," The President explained.

"Sir, Are we in a good position to deal with it?" Friday asked.

"I think so. In the next few minutes. I'm going to have a personal phone conversation with the Saudi Prime minister and smooth things over. It might cost us 30 or so F15's and some more Patriots batteries though."

"Sir, I've had an idea on that front." Friday suggested.

"And that is?" The President asked.

"Wait until the day after the news hits, then leak the fact that the Guild Faction destroyed that building in Washington. We have the evidence, and it will need to come out sometime. Why not do it when it'll help us?" Friday stated.

The line went quiet for a few seconds, "Ah I get it. I'll consider it. How are things you're end?"

"Not sure sir, I'll find out when I get back. I'm just hoping I can call you if I have to," Friday said. For sure Heinlein would hit the roof and she needed to know he wouldn't put a bullet in her head.

"Leave it to me. I need to go call the Saudi's. This had better work," The President stated.

"It will sir, trust me. Oh and one last thing. In the van is a test tube of clear liquid. When this is all done, use it to change Ambassador Kadhim back. Make sure he thinks its plastic surgery," Friday replied.

"Ok. Consider it done. If you need me just call," There was a click as the President hung up.

It was time to make her escape, by now the driver and bodyguard would be awake and the police and FBI would be looking for a blonde police officer. She retrieved the bodyguard's clothes from under the front seat and went into the back of the van to change. A few minutes later a tall man, around 6'2 with short blonde hair stepped out of the van and into the driver's seat.

It took her nearly two hours to reach the city limits and by that time her 'hit' was all over the news. Commentators were full of speculation on who had performed the assassination but the general consensus was twofold, firstly it would have a dire effect on US/Saudi relations and secondly that whoever performed the hit was now on the FBI's most wanted. She gave a wry smile, it had been oh at least five months since she'd last been on there.

She abandoned the van in some mall about five miles away from her house and called a cab to take her to her local mall. The first thing she needed to do was pick up her dry cleaning before it closed. A few minutes later she emerged carrying plastic bags containing her leather pants, boots and a spare white T-Shirt.

She walked to the nearest Mc Donald's and slipped into the baby changing area. It was the only place that was gender neutral. She quickly stripped off her clothes and placed them on the diaper changing station. She breathed in, savoring at last being able to be in her own body and face for a while. She let the changes wash over her and relished the sensation of breasts, hips and crotch growing once more. Two minutes later she was Friday proper once again, complete with new hairstyle. She quickly put on her leather pants and white T-shirt, conscious of the fact she wasn't wearing a bra. Oh well she hadn't got far to go anyway. She bent down and put on her black combat boots before finally putting her long leather coat back on. Although she didn't need it on, it would help divert attention from her unsupported chest.

Collecting her old clothes and stuffing them into a bag, she walked out of Mc Donald's and towards the Hot dog seller. When she had caught his eye, she casually diverted her chosen course to drop the clothes into the trash can. In return the Hot dog gave her a single fingered salute. Friday then hailed a nearby cab who then took her home.

She unlocked her front door and upon opening it was grabbed by the neck, hurled to the ground and told to freeze. She felt the cold metal of a gun barrel to her head. Still sprawled on the floor She glanced up and counted ten pairs of US Army issue boots, "One move and you're dead," A gruff voice barked.

--- oo ---

She was grabbed from behind, gun still to her head while a pair of handcuffs was slammed onto her wrists ,"Hey!" she protested.

"Stand up!" She was ordered and without question obeyed. The President better be true to his word, she thought.

She was frisked by a woman soldier and was declared clean.

Still under armed guard she was led to her living room where Heinlein, a sad looking Steve and a man with a thin face she didn't recognize were sitting down.

"Sit down Lieutenant," Heinlein ordered.

Friday meekly complied. Now wasn't the time to play the smart ass.

"Steve, if you please," Heinlein gestured.

Steve gave Friday a pained look and reached inside his jacket to pull out a Desert Eagle pistol. This he aimed directly at her head.

Heinlein turned to solider and ordered "Dismissed Sergeant. Take your men outside if we need you we'll call. "

"Sir," the Sergeant gave a smart salute and he and his men walked outside to the Garden.

"Sir, what's the meaning…" Friday started to say.

Heinlein said nothing, just flicked on the TV to CNN using her remote.

"And the news on the hour is the assassination of The Saudi ambassador, Ambassador Hashim Kadhim."

Heinlein flicked the TV off in disgust.

Friday said nothing

"This," Heinlein said gesturing to the man to his left, "Is CIA Deputy Director Of Operations Albie Young, aka God or at least a close relative. He's here as a witness to what we have to do now."

Friday nodded towards Steve, still aiming the pistol at her head, "Kill me?"

"That's what we are here to decide. Remember this, because of who you are, you have no rights or no access to due process. Should you try anything Agent Grayson is under orders to empty the magazine of his Magnum into your skull."

Friday nodded, although she could slip out of the handcuffs just by thinning her wrists and hands, it would be pure suicide to do so.

"First question. What did the hold all you bought with you contain? You claimed it came from supplies, and yet no requisition was made under your name?" Heinlein demanded.

"Additional clothing I had secured myself. Sir, is DDO Young cleared to know everything?" Friday asked. It was entirely possible that she was so secret that even the director of field operations for the CIA didn't know who she really was.

Heinlein gave Friday a stare, "DDO Young is fully aware of your unique status. Why did you secure the clothing yourself and what did it comprise of?"

"I secured the clothing, knowing we could have a mole in our organization. The mole could then pass onto the Guild Faction a full description of the disguises I was going to wear, thus jeopardizing the mission, "Friday explained.

"Why didn't you tell Agent Grayson, of this?" Heinlein demanded.

"Sir, I had to assume that any and all lines of communication could be compromised, including the ops room. That includes informing you by phone or datalink sir."

"Hmm," Heinlein glanced at DDO young, who nodded in agreement, "What were the additional disguises?"

"A male suit and some coveralls with work shoes," Friday said. She knew both decoy items would be found, but not the one she had really used.

"Second question, where did you go after you reported that the ambassador had gone to the Redskins with his family?"

"I tried to gain access to the Stadium. I used Nitric acid to cut thru a padlock, A little too much as it dripped down my coat," Friday explained carefully.

"Yes we found the melted lock and clothes. Which leads me to my third question. Why did you remove your earpiece at such a crucial time?"

"As I informed Agent Grayson sir, I found it restrictive. I'd placed in my pockets to retrieve after I'd changed. It was when I went to get the earpiece back I discovered the acid had destroyed it," Friday explained in her best lecture voice. So far so good. She glanced across at Steve, whose face was cold mask.

"Forth question. Where were you when the Ambassador was taken?"

"I was inside the stadium where I had been following them, pretending to be a janitor. They went into a VIP suite, where I didn't have immediate access, so I had to break in. But by the time I did I last saw them leaving via the main entrance."

"Fifth question," Heinlein said sternly, "What else did you see?"

"By the time I had got out, I saw the Limo's drive off. I couldn't tell which was which so I followed the one back to the embassy."

"On foot?" Heinlein stated, his incredulous face showing he didn't believe a word of it.

"Yes sir, as agent Grayson will testify when pushed I can follow a car so long as it's in traffic. Naturally I had to use underpasses and keep from view. With no way to contact Agent Grayson I had to make the call," Friday explained.

"Is that correct agent Grayson?" DDO Young asked.

Still not taking his eyes or his aim from Friday, Steve replied "Yes sir. Friday is correct. She is capable of such a feat."

"What happened next? Heinlein demanded.

"When his family all came out, I knew I'd chosen the wrong one. I sprinted back to the Stadium, but by this time it had gone, and I could find no sign of Agent Grayson."

"Sixth question. It is now some five hours since then, where did you go?"

"I continued to look for the Limo." Friday asked. She was royally pissed at Heinlein for the whole judge, jury and executioner thing. Time to stop this game, "Sir can I ask a question?"

"Go ahead," Heinlein said. Friday could tell from his face he thought she was pulling something.

"Don't I get a phone call?" She asked sweetly.

Heinlein glanced at DDO Young who nodded, "Yes."

"If you reach inside my coat pocket you'll find my cell phone. Press the call button and dial the number. Then pass me the phone. I'm a little tied up at the moment," Friday explained, trying to hide the glee from her voice.

"Agent Grayson, your firearm please and do what she asks," Heinlein ordered.

Still aiming the gun at her, Steve passed it to Heinlein, who gave Friday a 'go ahead punk' smile and adjusted the aim. Steve then stood up and after a few moments found her cell phone, he press the call button and held it to her mouth.

The phone rang for what seemed like an age, "President Roberts," the voice in her ear said.

As casually as she could Friday said, "Friday here, I'm just phoning to say I've got three CIA agents here, one of which has a gun to my head and outside are ten armed marines just in case he misses. I wonder if you could call DDO Young and explain."

She heard a sigh down the phone, "Ok done. By the way, your friend reached his home ok and is being looked after. Consider this the favor well and truly paid off!" the phone went dead.

"All done Steve. You can go back to wanting to blow my head off now," Friday said.

Steve put the cell phone back on the table and retrieved the handgun back from Heinlein.

"Now you've had your call. Where did you go for the five hours after you lost the limo," Heinlein demanded.

"Let me think…" Friday stalled.

"Friday, don't fuck with me. You have a photographic memory, you know full well wh.." The sound of a phone ringing interrupted Heinlein.

"Excuse me," DDO young said and pulled a cell phone from his pocket.

"DDO Young," there was a long pause, "yes sir," and another longer pause, "I understand sir. Yes right away," DDO Young flipped the phone back into his pocket.

"Heinlein, this ends now," DDO Young stated.

"WHAT!" Heinlein demanded.

"Agent Grayson, lower your weapon please, this investigation is over!" DDO Young ordered.

"With pleasure sir," Steve replied gave Friday a smile and put his gun back in the shoulder holster.

Doing his best to remain calm, Heinlein said, "Sir! With all due respect. We have a major diplomatic incident, and this creature, sorry this woman here appears to be at the centre of it. I don't buy half her explanations, and her past history makes it entirely likely she allowed the ambassador to be assassinated."

Friday said nothing, it was the DDO's show now. She just sat back in the sofa and watched. This was so worth it. She could have used the alibi's she'd prepared, but Heinlein deserved some total humiliation in front of his superiors. Payback was a real bitch and she loved every moment of it.

"Heinlein, You do not need to know the reasons why I am calling this investigation to a halt, only that they are legitimate, fully constitutional and in full accordance to the oath you took when you joined us. You can try going around me, or over me. But trust me you won't win. I expect no record of this conversation to appear on her file. As far as the agency is concerned her mission was a complete success. Do you understand?" DDO Young stated forcefully.

It was at times like this Friday loved having a photographic memory as Heinlein muttered, almost thru gritted teeth, "Yes sir."

DDO Young stood up, ""Heinlein, you created this mess. I'll leave you to tidy it up. Well Friday it's been a pleasure," he went to shake her hand but then remembered she was still handcuffed.

Behind her back, Friday casually thinned her wrists out, and elongated her hands. With a simple flick the handcuffs slid off, and moments later after turning them back to normal she held out her right hand, and shook his, "Pleasure's all mine sir."

Heinlein stood up and made a point of not making eye contact with Friday, who was doing her best not to look smug. He walked outside and ordered the soldiers back in the house and to stand down within a few moments Heinlein had the soldiers drilled and ready to move out.

Friday watched them march out of the house before turning to Steve, "I wonder what the neighbors will think?" she smiled.

Steve looked puzzled, "Can you tell me who you called? Off the record that is. Heinlein was all set to put you in front of a firing squad and damn the consequences. Did you really allow the ambassador to be killed?"

"Steve, you know I can't answer that. I'll just say for yours and Heinlein's future reference, never forget who you are dealing with. I never do anything without knowing how it will end, preparing for every possible outcome and then bending situations to the way I want them to turn out."

"Hmm," Steve looked thoughtful, "Y'know when I heard the Ambassador had been killed and you were missing I'm ashamed to say, like Heinlein I thought you had been the killer. Tell me that's not true!"

"Steve, I didn't kill Ambassador Kadhim. I did everything in my power to save his life. Can I listen to the news please?" Friday said earnestly. She did feel hurt that Steve hadn't trusted her. Maybe this is what 'Lizzy' had meant when she had said that Steve would betray her?

"Sure," Steve said and pressed the remote. A few seconds later the TV flicked on.

"The Saudi government has refused to be drawn into the diplomatic row over the death of its new US Ambassador, Hashim Kadhim. White House sources have told CNN that the President has been in full contact with the Saudi government and had promised a full and open investigation into the killing. Several other Arab nations have condemned the killers calling it 'A return to the dark days of US Imperialism. '

This footage by The Al Jazeera news station shows protests about the assassination have sprung up around US embassies in the region, particularly in Saudi Arabia itself.

The screen showed hundreds of people screaming and shouting in protest at the camera. A few were burning US flags and effigies of President Roberts. She could just make out the words 'Death to Assassins" and "Ambassador Hashim Kadhim we will avenge you," the news report continued.

In response to the killing the price of a barrel of oil rose today by two dollars, sparking speculation that Saudi Arabia may be about to restrict the sale of oil to the US. As a result the Dow was down 300 points today, sparking fears that the recent down turn may become a full recession."

'Oh great. I ruined the country' thought Friday. She continued to listen to the news.

"Ambassador Kadhim leaves behind a wife and five children who are said to be distraught at the news of his death and have called for a Fatwa against the killer."

Friday thought back to seeing Ambassador Kadhim's happy family on their way back from their VIP tour. Her actions had ripped that family apart, but terribly there was no other way. Sometimes she hated herself. The news continued.

"We have received information that Hashish was found, stuffed in the mouth of the body of Ambassador Kadhim. As has sprung to light over recent months, it is the calling card of the terrorist organization known as the Guild.

Official Guild sources have yet to give a statement to the news, but it is widely thought that it may have been the work of a splinter faction within the Guild. Kismet Assad, the newly appointed leader of the UN sponsored Guild has declined to comment on this recent event."

Friday wasn't sure if she was supposed to be pleased or sad, the Guild Faction had got the exposure and credit they desired. On the positive side her daughter was still safe, and the Guild Faction were bound to get over-extended and careless. On the negative, her actions today would bring a lot of misery, including that of Ambassador Kadhim's family. Friday flicked the remote and turned the TV off. "Steve?"

"Yeah?" Steve was deep in thought too.

"Would you really have shot me?" Friday asked.

"Honest truth, I don't know. I suspect it was a test just as much for me as it was for you. The end result would have been the same. Heinlein would have called in the soldiers, shot you and then arrested me. You know what I feel more guilty about?" He said softly.

"What?" Friday asked.

"Doubting you," Steve said softly, his eyes full of the desire for forgiveness.

Friday put a hand on his leg, "Forgotten about. None of us have had a particularly good day. I'm beat and need to go to bed. Night Steve!"

"Night Friday, "Steve placed his hand on hers, "And thanks."

Friday walked to her room, undressed as quickly as she could, stored the secure cell phone at the bottom of her wardrobe for safekeeping and collapsed into bed. Now all she had to hope for was that the Guild Faction bought her deception and that the President could pacify the Saudi's.

--- oo ---

Friday awoke the next day, feeling famished. The sheer amount of changes she'd had to do the previous day had used up a significant amount of reserves. She still had a day left of her leave from school, which meant she would probably spend a lot of it just moping around the house.

Although she had seen it as fun yesterday, her relationship with Heinlein was at an all time low, and she could only really rely on Presidential support for so long. As she headed towards the shower it gave her time to reflect on how she felt about Steve.

Yesterday she had put him in an impossible situation. Obey orders and maybe kill her, or disobey at the expense of his own career or even life. She understood his suspicion towards her. She would feel exactly the same in that situation. Steve obviously loved her a great deal, but did she feel the same depth of feeling he clearly did? If so why would she let him close? She let the hot water and steam run down her hair, onto her body and felt the tension wash away.

An hour later, and back in her bedroom she needed to decide on an outfit for the day. She didn't want to use the leather pants again, and the micro skirt was there for nightclubs should she decide to go to one. That left the red suede one, for a top she chose the black one with the plunging neckline, perfect to show off her cleavage, and to finish the look she decided on her knee high boots with the heels.

She had hoped to show off her look to Steve, but to her disappointment he was nowhere to be found. He must have left early in the morning.

Still feeling famished she started to cook herself a high fat, breakfast. She'd only just cooked her second egg when she heard the clack of something being pushed thru the letterbox. Turning the heat off, she walked to the door and found another envelope addressed to "Dr Bexley"

'Here we go', she thought as she opened the letter. Clearly the Guild Faction were still watching her as they had waited until Steve was well and truly gone before dropping the letter off.

"Dr Bexley
We have analyzed the Thumb you bought to us and have confirmed it belonged to Ambassador Kadhim, this in addition to evidence we have obtained means that you have our gratitude and appreciation. We will contact you again when we next need your services."

Friday screwed the letter and envelope up, "Bastards!" she swore. At least her daughter was still safe, and that the Guild Faction were well on the way to falling into her trap.

She went back to frying her egg and cooking her breakfast. The Guild Faction had clearly fallen for her ruse. With the news going on about it all day and night they couldn't help it. The rumors sweeping the media that it was a Guild Faction attack would only inflate their pride even further.

She dished her breakfast up onto a plate, pulled out a tray from a cupboard and walked to the living room. Picking up the remote she flicked the TV on.

"The headlines today, in the aftermath of the Assassination of Ambassador Kadhim, senior Washington sources have stated the bombing of an office building in Washington two months ago that killed 14 people was performed by the same Guild Faction that performed the assassination yesterday. No official statement has yet been received, but it is understood that a press conference is scheduled for 14:00 EST."

Friday put down her fork, "Good move." She commented out loud. As she had planned, by releasing the information when he had the President could then claim that the USA and Saudi Arabia had a common enemy and both had suffered a tragic loss at the hands of that enemy, the Guild Faction. It would also give the Guild Faction's ego a little more of a boost and move her ever closer to wiping them out for good.

She finished her breakfast and headed towards her bedroom. Swim time.

--- oo ---

Friday drifted at the bottom of the pool, her gills filtering just enough oxygen from the water to keep her conscious. She had promised herself a trip to the Hudson River where she could swim out to sea and explore the bay. She hadn't done so for two reasons, firstly it was a too public a place during the day, and by night the waters looked to be too churned up to see much. An additional more personal reason, that if she did so, the temptation to swim off and never come back would be too great. Fully relaxed, she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing right down.

Two hours later, Friday had dried her hair, got changed back into outfit for the day and sat down on the sofa to unwind in front of the TV. After concluding some ten minutes later that there was nothing worthwhile on, she walked to her room, put on her black leather coat and decided to go for a walk.

The chill November air only served to dampen her mood. Of course she could adjust her metabolism to ensure she was always warm, but that didn't really help things. She walked past the spot where she'd left the Silver Camry only two days before, someone from the Guild Faction had removed it or someone else had decided to steal it.

Compared to its global reach, with thousands of operatives worldwide the Guild Faction she was dealing with was a lot smaller, although how small she couldn't really tell. For sure, in the next few months it would start to grow, as a new generation of fanatics filled its ranks.

There was no way she could get all of them, but her plan called for the removal of the head of the monster. The UN 'real' Guild could then take it from there. Right now, however two things concerned her.

She paused to watch some teenage kids playing basketball in a nearby park, their girlfriends either joining in or cheerleading from the sides. She gave a smile, such simple pleasures. She was tempted to walk over and either join in, or just watch closer as if by he proximity she could pick up some of their love of life once more.

She decided, just because she was heading that way to walk on, towards downtown Washington and Capitol Hill. Strange how only a few months ago she was once welcome in those hallowed corridors and rooms and now would probably be arrested if she attempted to get near.

Her thoughts turned to Heinlein and how royally pissed off he would be at her. More than likely he would shut her out of the loop, except for throwing a few scraps her way. She was sure he still thought she was the traitor and he was right, in a way she now was.

In the first instance she had busted a known terrorist out of jail, and in the second caused a major diplomatic incident and potential economic crisis. True, in the medium term no damage would have been done; but Heinlein didn't know that. The question still outstanding is, would Heinlein break orders and have her killed anyway?

Based on what she had seen, probably not. But a single nudge too far and he would snap. The unknown quantity was what the Guild Faction would ask her to do next. If that task conflicted with CIA interests at all then she was sure that Heinlein would be able to persuade the 'kill Dr Bexley now' camp(which seemed to be everyone except the President, Steve and maybe DDO Young) to act decisively and fatally.

Once again, the temptation to run away came flooding back, sometimes retreat was the best option. But then her daughter would die, and a whole lot more people too. The millions that were murdered by her actions would have died in vain, the Guild Faction would become stronger by the year until it would strike again. She could not sit back and watch it all happen again. That would surely be the end of her, as surely as a snipers bullet in the head. She had to stay.

A spot of rain splashed on her face, and another and glancing up at the sky she saw it had grown a depressing gray black. A sure sign that more rain was in the way. A few more drops fell "Damn," she swore and looked around for shelter.

Across the street was a small Coffee House, its warm 'living room' style interior looking increasingly inviting as more rain fell. Putting her coat over her head she dashed across the road and into the Coffee House.

Glad to be out of the rain she sat down at a table away from the rest of the customers who seemed to be a mixture of young professionals and those like her who had taken shelter from the rain. She rummaged around in her coat pockets and found a couple of dollars left over from her shopping trip. Just enough for a cappuccino and just enough to ensure she could stay here until the rain stopped.

A minute or so later a small waitress walked over and asked for her order, which she did. The waitress scribbled her order in her pad and walked off, leaving Friday alone to people watch.

There were the group of friends on the sofa in the middle of the Coffee House, they had obviously been there a while, as there were several coffee cups still waiting to be cleared away. They appeared to be chatting about nothing in particular, but at least one of them was a couple with the other. To her right, a middle aged man in a suit was reading today's copy of the Washington Post. His body language told her that he was waiting for someone. There was a couple on the far table, playing footsie under the table and her sharp eyes spotted a wedding ring on the man's finger, but not on the younger woman.

She then spotted another man, dressed in black jeans and T-Shirt getting up to walk over to her. She casually glanced out of the window, the rain was now falling faster and unless she wanted to get soaked, she would have to stay here. The man wasn't bad looking, probably a clean 6ft, his body showed that he took pride in his appearance and worked out regularly. His face had an outdoor look to it, slightly unshaven and his tanned complexion was more to do being out of doors, than under a sun bed.

They made eye contact, and he gave a white toothed smile that was saying 'Are you fun?' Friday casually put her left hand with her wedding ring on, under the table.

Within a matter of moments, he was standing at her table "Hi. Good band," He stated.

Friday glanced around, she couldn't hear or see any sign of a band, "I think you're in the wrong place," She commented.

"Damn wrong place, Just in case you're running an idiot of the day poll. My name's David," David put his hand out for her to shake.

"Lizzy," Friday shook his hand and gestured for David to sit down. She'd not heard that line before, and besides he'd provide some amusement until the rain stopped.

"Pleased to meet you Lizzy," David said cordially and sat down in the chair next to her.

"Taking shelter from the rain too?" Friday asked.

"Yeah. Typical, I forget my coat on the one day God decides to play Noah the sequel," David said, not taking his eyes away from her face.

"I guess. What's the coffee like in this place? I Just ordered a Cappuccino," Making small talk was a pleasant change from the past few days of playing hardball with the lives of innocents.

"Not bad. I think you chose ok. Your face looks familiar. Have I seen you before?" David asked. Friday noticed he slightly arched his right eyebrow when he was curious.

"Don't think so. I've got one of those memorable faces, "Friday said. The last thing she wanted to do was get into a conversation about her antics at the school.

The conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing over Friday's cappuccino, "Thanks. Can I have the check please," Friday asked, bringing the coffee closer to her.

"Sure, I'll bring it right over," The waitress replied, and walked away.

"Doesn't look that toxic?" Friday commented, picking her Cappuccino up and taking a mock sniff.

"I've had worse. So Lizzy, Are you into sailing?" David asked.

"More into diving. For me boats were just a method from getting to where I wanted to dive," Friday said. So David was into water sports.

"I've done some diving, mostly around the Barrier Reef. Amazing," David enthused.

"I spent nearly two years in the Indian ocean. The Barrier Reef is a wonder, but it pains me to see what we're doing to it, same goes for everywhere. Even in the time I spent there it was sad to see so much beauty being systematically destroyed," Friday's voice tailed away as memories of the wonders she saw during her enforced time in exile.

"So you're a marine biologist?" David asked.

"Not by trade no. I'll probably get round to taking it up in a few years time. I haven't done any real diving for a while now. You?"

"I used to work for a dot com. Until they went bust, luckily they gave me a whole load of shares, which I luckily cashed in when they were at their peak. So I guess I'm just having some fun until the money runs out. Let me guess what you do?" David said with a smile.

For her part Friday was enjoying herself. David was sweet but now it was definitely time to have some fun with him. No doubt his conversation was all 'off pat' and well oiled. Time to throw a spanner in it, "You can try?" she challenged.

"Ok, first guess," David said with a smile, "Secretary."

"Do I look like a secretary?" Friday said gesturing to her hair and outfit.

"Second guess. You said you spent nearly two years in the Indian Ocean. You're in the Navy?" David gave a smug smile.

"Sorry no. Like I said ships don't interest me. Last guess," Friday inwardly grinned, she was going to enjoy this.

"Ok, last guess. So your not a secretary, or in the Navy. You spent two years in the Indian ocean but you're not a Marine Biologist. You're out for a walk when most people should be working, so you must work shifts. I know' you're a cop! David exclaimed.

The conversation was interrupted by the waitress walking over and putting the check down on the table.

"I'll get that," David offered.

"We'll go Dutch," Friday suggested and pulled out a couple of dollar bills, "Keep the change," she said to the waitress who then nodded, took the money and walked away.

"You were going to tell me what you did and if you're a cop or not," David reminded.

Friday shook her head, "Sorry I'm not a cop. Do you really want to know what I do?"

"You have me intrigued," David said.

"I kill people," Friday said quietly.

David thought he misheard, "Pardon?"

"I kill people. You know alive and well one day, I come and visit and then they're not!" Friday took a casual sip of her Coffee.

Friday noticed the look of firstly surprise and then horror flick across David's face. Clearly he couldn't work out if she was telling the truth or not, "So, um," he said cautiously, "How many people have you killed?"

From the look on his face Friday knew he was trying to humor her. His jovial pick up routine was now in tatters and he was very much on the back foot. "Directly or indirectly?" There that would shake him a little more.

David shifted nervously on his seat and not making any eye contact said, "Umm Directly?"

"Directly? 49 I think," Friday started to count on her fingers, "The first two I killed by destroying the building they were in, knives and other bladed weapons are my favorite. I've killed 43 using them, " Friday's finger counting started again, " Oh, and the remaining 4 I used poison or firearms, 3 poisoned and the other shot," Friday took a prolonged sip of her coffee.

Friday saw David's eye go wide with fear, all thoughts of her stringing him along well and truly quashed. "It's ah, stopped raining now," David muttered nervously, obviously looking for a way out.

Friday glanced over her shoulder," So it has. Do you sail any class of boat, Day-Sailer, J-Boat or bigger?"

"Depends. I'm sorry to rush, but I really have to get on," David said hurriedly. The fear and confusion showing in his face,

Friday smiled, "That's ok. Nice to meet you David, "Friday drank the rest of her coffee and stood up to leave.

David did the same, "Nice to meet you."

"I'll see you around," Friday smiled and gave David a wave with her left hand.

She saw David's eyes flick to her wedding ring and then at his expression as the penny dropped.

27. Meeting The In Laws
-------------------------------

She felt a pang of guilt as she walked towards home. It had been a mean thing to do but it had helped her let off steam, which was after all the whole point of the walk. Of course David had been shocked at her admission, anyone would be; but it served as a test for her too. Clearly, someone like her, no matter the circumstances would always be an outcast.

The basketball court was empty, either the kids had got bored or too wet and had gone off to wherever kids go to when it rains. She hoped Steve would be back by now, but it wasn't unknown for him to be away for hours, or even days at a stretch. So much for her training, apart from the first month or so she'd had little or no training.

Partly it was the urgency of the missions she was sent on, but she also suspected that Heinlein either thought her competent enough or too much of a risk to train to her full lethal potential.

Just in front of her were a couple, holding hands and acting with the unmistakable body language of love. Seeing them together turned her thoughts towards Steve. These past few months had seen their relationship enter a kind of holding pattern, a better description was 'standoff'. Steve was clearly waiting for her to make the next move, and she was waiting for him to prove that he really did care, and wouldn't just leave. Maybe, the time was right to break the deadlock and just go for it, but so much of Steve was still a mystery. Apart from some conversations about his family and upbringing she still knew comparatively little about him. How much of that was down to his natural caution and how much was due to him not wanting to share that part of his life with her she couldn't tell. What she did know was that he would have to open up more to her, before she could him.

She was nearly home, and could see Steve's car parked neatly outside. Heinlein must have let him come home early. A brightly decorated shop window caught her eye, of course! Thanksgiving was only a few days away, not that she'd had the time or even inclination to celebrate over the past few years. This year, she'd stay at home. She had nowhere else to go.

Using her keys she unlocked the door and let herself in. As was now becoming second nature she glanced down at the mat, to see if the Guild Faction had left her any notes. Today, thankfully there were none, "Hi honey I'm home!" She called out.

"Hey, I'm in the living room. Coffee's on, you want some?" Steve called back.

"Sure. Just let me get my coat off," Friday replied, removed her still damp coat and hung it on a peg in the hall.

Friday walked in to see Steve dressed in Jeans and T-Shirt and looking very relaxed, "You look pleased with yourself?" Friday commented.

"I am, Heinlein's given me until next Monday off, which means I'll be able to visit my folks for Thanksgiving. I've not seen them since I came back from Korea," Steve smiled.

"That's nice, "Friday replied sadly. She would do, give up anything to see her own parents again.

"Which brings me to your next mission," Steve said seriously.

"I'm surprised Heinlein will even let me lick envelopes after the other day," Friday said.

"Just be glad I'm giving you it rather than him! Anyway this one is personal. As you know we're supposed to be married!"

"and?" Friday exclaimed.

"As far as I know you've got nowhere to go for thanksgiving, I'd love it if you came back with me. You're always telling me you know so little about me, where I come from and about my past. This gives you the chance to find out. I'd be honored if you said yes, "Steve asked.

Friday thought for a few moments, Steve was right she did have nowhere to go. But these past seven years that had been the case and she'd let it slip from her mind. Steve was right, it would give her chance to know more about him, and maybe this was just what she needed to help her restore her sense of normality and help her decide on where to go next with her relationship with Steve, "Sure I'll come."

Steve gave a smile like the proverbial cat, "Great! Do you have any warm clothes. It can get pretty cold this time of year."

Friday cocked her head to one side, giving Steve a 'you're not my dad' look, "I'll manage. Anyway, what's going on at the office?" she asked.

"Not a lot really, Heinlein is still pissed at you humiliating him in front of the DDO and he's still not managed to get a peep as to why he was ordered to stand down the investigation. As you might have seen, things have even quieted down with the Saudi's, although God knows how," Steve explained.

"So how come Heinlein had you out and about today?" Friday asked.

Steve smiled, "Paperwork and reports. Just be thankful you're not on the CIA Official roster. Most of the job is reports, analysis and red tape. Takes hours and I'm sure no one reads it."

"Being a secret weapon has some benefits then," Friday gave Steve a smile, and go up to go to her room to change. As Heinlein had told her, although she received a salary from the government she had no CIA Employee number, or no official status within that organization. Much to her bitter regret people had died to keep her very existence a secret. One day that would change, one day she would be free.

"Here's the bad news. I've got a mountain of paperwork to do before we fly out on Wednesday, so I don't think you'll see much of me in the meantime. I very much doubt Heinlein will come calling between now and the thanksgiving weekend, so treat it as well deserved time off. Is there any chance of getting red haired Friday back? I'm starting to miss her, and besides you're supposed to be the sweet blushing bride, not the vampire bitch from hell."

"I like my hair as it is. I didn't spend eighty bucks getting it cut, just for you to demand I turn it back. I'm not THAT scary am I?" Friday was a little hurt that Steve was trying to control her.

"Scary? More than a little, at least at a professional level," Steve replied.

"And at a personal one?" Friday asked hopefully.

"Personally, you're the most intelligent, beautiful and compassionate woman I've ever met. In spite of my joking about vampire hell bitches, you put yourself on the line every time. I know you have issues, and a burden of pain and guilt that defies belief, but to me you're pushing beyond that. The world is so wrong about you, we all were!"

Friday turned to face Steve, "Thanks that means a lot," She felt as though she should have given him more, but at the moment she had no more to give.

"No problem," Steve's face lit up in surprise, clearly he'd expected more. Maybe, Friday mused that was why she didn't offer it, he was clearly kiss fishing.

"I'll leave you to get on, I'm back at school tomorrow and I still have a whole pile of papers to mark. You'd be amazed at some of those kids' ideas on anatomy," Friday gave Steve a smile and turned and walked back to her room. She needed some time alone. The question of the day was why did she now feel comparatively cold towards Steve?

28. Family Business.
-------------------------

Friday didn't really get any time to talk to Steve up until they both arrived at the airport on the Wednesday before thanksgiving. As directed she'd picked up a couple of her 'wedding' photos from the top of the TV, ensuring that they didn't show any of her 'family' or any other incriminating details. In spite of mischievous thoughts to the contrary she'd decided to bring along some of her conservative wardrobe so as best to impress her 'in laws', although taking her Lieutenant's uniform was compulsory to their cover story. The airport was packed, as hundreds of thousands of people tried to visit family and friends in a single day. Only by paying for a first class ticket and pulling some strings had Steve managed to get a flight, and reserve a rental a car from Pierre airport to Steve's hometown around 30 miles east of there.

"I seem to spend all of my time on planes," Friday commented as she settled herself into her first class seat. She stretched out her legs, relishing the extra legroom.

"I know how that feels. Still, at least we only have the one connecting flight to catch. Now, you sure you've got the story straight?" Steve asked.

Friday shot Steve a look that left him in no doubts not to ask the question again.

Steve slept most of the journey, leaving Friday to ponder what she had let herself in for. For sure, she would be the centre of attention for much of the holiday period, with various questions being asked and her every moved studied and analyzed by expectant parents. Still, that was nothing new.

So far, her plan to take down the Guild Faction was going as well as she'd hoped. According to the news she'd managed to catch before they left, the US and Saudi Arabia had agreed to work together to fight this new threat, as both countries had had atrocities carried out against them by the same group. Her suggestion to reveal who performed the bombing of the building had obviously helped the President calm the Saudi government down. It was too early to tell if the markets would recover from their fall, but analysts had said it looked positive.

The fake Ambassador Kadhim's body had been repatriated and was due to be given a full state funeral and no doubt that would provoke a reaction from certain groups. The Guild Faction clearly believed they had her right where they wanted her, which to a point was true. Until she could get the equipment and access to determine the poison they had used on Kat, then she had to do as they said, however it would also serve her purposes by bringing her ever closer to the leaders of the Guild Faction. The more vital the mission, the higher up the instructions would come from. Her course of action was clear, for now she'd wait and be ready to spring the trap as soon as an opportunity arrived.

What did concern her a little was that Guild Faction, must know that sooner or later she would turn on them, or at least suspect that may be the case. Killing her after she'd served her purpose would seem the most logical course of action for them to take. It's what she'd do in their place. That being the case, it was a case of kill or be killed and that she concluded was when she was at her most deadly.

That was for later, for now she had a break from all things CIA, Guild and global politics. For the next few days she had only the one universal problem to face up to, family.

--- oo ---

"Nearly there, just under a couple of miles to go," Steve commented as he drove into his hometown some 30 miles from Pierre in South Dakota, "See just another small town, but to me it's still seems like home."

"Nice place, it looks friendly. Is that where you went to school?" Friday gestured to a set of school buildings to her right.

"Yeah, it was ok. Did I tell you I was on the school football team?" Steve mentioned casually.

"I always had you figured for a lump headed jock," Friday teased.

"You never struck me as the cheerleader type?" Steve asked, ignoring Friday's tease.

"I was asked several times, I was told I had the 'look'. Well back when I had my old body that is. I was just more interested in becoming a doctor like my dad," Friday stated. She glanced outside and the rows of suburban houses, they all seemed so normal and uncomplicated. Every driveway was full of cars, trucks and SUV's Families reuniting to rekindle the unity and joy of being together once more.

"Here we are!" Steve exclaimed and he pulled into the driveway of a white painted two storey house, complete with double garage and wooden porch.

Friday noticed the curtains twitch, obviously the person behind them wanted to get a sneak peek at the woman who's stolen Steve's heart.

Steve turned to Friday, gave a smile and said "Ready to face the Spanish inquisition?"

Friday gave a chuckle, "Yeah, at least this one is expected. After you."

Steve just looked at her blankly, he didn't get the joke.

As soon as Steve got out of the car, the front door was flung open to reveal who Friday assumed was Steve's family. There was an older man, around sixty and looked just like an older version of Steve. Standing next to him was a small woman, again around the same age. Her white hair was styled in a short bob, and she was wearing a long floral dress. Behind Steve's mom was a younger man, probably aged eighteen or so. He shared Steve's blonde hair, but not his build as this man seemed to have a less muscular build than his older brother. 'Here goes' Friday thought stepping out of the car.

Steve's dad was the first to extend his hand, "Hello, you must be Friday, welcome to the family."

Friday took his hand, "Thanks Mr. Grayson, it's good to be here."

"Jack please," Mr. Grayson offered.

Friday nodded and gave a smile, "Jack it is."

Jack directed Friday towards his wife, "This is my wife, Sandy, and our youngest son, Alex."

"Nice to meet you Friday," Sandy said, although her face was showing some suspicion towards her. She's the key, Friday thought. Obviously she was a little resentful at being excluded from the wedding of her eldest son.

"Come on you lot, let's get inside its freezing and I can't wait to catch up on all the news!" Steve ordered hurriedly.

"Sure come on in, Alex, Give Steve a hand with their luggage," Jack prompted and gestured for Friday to come inside.

Friday walked into a long pastel yellow painted hallway, with laminate flooring and a few Monet prints on the wall, "Can I take your coat?" Jack asked.

"Sure, "Friday replied and slipped off her long leather coat and handed it to Jack.

"Nice place!" Friday commented to Sandy. Friday noted that not a thing was out of place.

"Thank you, the living room's this way. Come and sit next to the fire, you must be freezing?" Sandy gave a smile clearly she was a little house proud.

Friday followed Sandy into a large living room, with a real fire burning away in the hearth. She would later classify the room as 'homely' as the green carpet was nicely matched against the light brown and green wallpaper. There was a sofa and two armchairs positioned in a semi circle around the fire, and it was obvious that the armchair nearest the fire belonged to Jack.

So as not to commit her first faux pas of the day, she sat down on the sofa and let the heat of the fire wash over her.

"Would you like a coffee?" Sandy asked from behind her.

"Yes please, black without. Do you want a hand?" Friday asked cordially.

"That's alright. You've had a long journey," Sandy mentioned and walked away to make the coffee.

In the hallway Friday heard various clonking sounds as hers and Steve's suitcase were wheeled in from the car. Jack's face appeared from around the hallway door, "Friday, if you'd like to follow me I'll show you to yours and Steve's room."

Friday inwardly sighed. Of course being Steve's 'wife' they'd expect her to share a bed. She just hoped he didn't get any ideas. "Sure," She said and got up off the sofa and followed Jack up the flight of wooden stairs.

"Just in here, this used to be Steve's room," Jack gestured to the door on his left.

Friday opened the door to let Jack in with her stuff and followed him in. Steve's room was just how she had imagined it. Along one wall was a set of shelves with various board games on, but the top shelf was reserved for the five trophies Steve had won during his sporting career. Of course the bed was a double one, and a large walk in wardrobe.

"I'll just leave it here," Jack said heaving her suitcase on the bed.

"That'll be fine. I'll be down in a moment," Friday gave Jack one of her thank you smiles.

"Top Gun huh," Friday could help but give a small laugh at Steve's choice of room posters. He'd obviously not spent any real time here since he was a teenager, a suspicion borne out by the Commodore 64 computer gathering dust on a desk in the corner. Teasing Steve about his choice of furniture would come later, for now at least she had a family to woo.

She walked down the stairs and managed to catch a little of the conversation in the living room.

"Well I like her!" It was Jack talking.

"I'm not sure, I can't see what he sees in her," that was Sandy moaning.

"I do, she's a babe!" Friday smiled, that comment came from Alex.

Suddenly a stair creaked, and the conversation stopped as the occupants of living room were overcome by their guilty conscience.

Friday decided to lay it on the line before the gossip continued. It was much better this way than her having to creep around listening to what people thought.

"Talking about me?" She quipped, as she walked into the living room.

The silence in the room gave Friday the confirmation she wanted, "its ok. I expected to be the centre of attention for a while. Mrs. Grayson, I'm sorry Steve and I didn't invite you to the wedding, but we just didn't have time to arrange a full white wedding. I'm sure Steve's told you all about it, where is he by the way?"

"Out back, getting the food in for tomorrow. Oh, and probably seeing if his trail bike is still working. He adores that thing," Alex said.

Friday inwardly smiled, Steve knew her and her family well enough to know that Friday would have it out with his family sooner rather than later, "Grayson's, mind if I sit down and let's talk about it. I don't want this visit tainted by rumor and ill feeling."

"Good idea," Jack said and sat down on the armchair that Friday identified as his when she'd first walked in.

"Alex, would you mind getting the coffee. Friday takes hers black without," Sandy asked.

Alex shot his mom an 'Aww' look of complaint but complied anyway. Friday watched Sandy walk past and sit down on the armchair next to her husband.

Friday decided to break the silence, "So what did he tell you about me, us?" Friday asked.

"Just that he'd met you after his release and after a whirlwind romance you'd got married in New England," Sandy replied, the hurt obvious in her voice.

"Typical Steve," Friday smiled, "So what do you know about me, where I come from, what I do?" Just fucking typical she thought, Steve had pissed off, leaving her the clearing up to do.

"Only your name, and a description," Jack offered.

"No wonder you're annoyed and suspicious of me," Friday directed the comment to Sandy.

"Well that's Steve alright!" Alex had entered the room, holding a tray of coffee cups.

"Ok, let's start from the beginning. My name, as you know is Friday. Don't ask me why, I've never been able to find out exactly myself. It's not as if I was even born on a Friday, it was on a Wednesday. Anyway, I'm 24 years old and I'm currently a First Lieutenant in the US Air Force."

"Cool!" Alex exclaimed.

"Lieutenant huh?" Jack queried. Friday spotted him eyeing her up, as if determining if she was telling the truth or not, or maybe even whether she was capable of holding such a rank.

Friday nodded, "Anyway, Steve and I met in Korea and we just hit it off."

"How did you meet?" Sandy asked suspiciously.

"Sorry Mrs. Grayson I can't say the circumstances, just that I was involved in your son's release," Friday decided to play that one cagey.

"Neat! so you busted him out!" Alex exclaimed, his eyes wide with imagined firefights.

"I can't say it's classified. Whatever you think went on, the reality is far less interesting," She wasn't sure if Alex would classify being shot at by the North Korean army, shot down by parties unknown, nearly being killed in the resulting chopper crash and actually being one of the most infamous killers in US history boring, but it would have to do.

"So you met my son, and then what happened?" Sandy asked. Friday could tell her resistance was weakening. Telling them she had been involved in their sons rescue was one of the key points her and Steve had worked out in advance.

"As I said, we hit it off right away. I was due to be posted to Ramstien, Germany a month after we met. I had some leave due, so Steve suggested we meet up in Washington as I had nowhere else to go, I agreed."

"Didn't your mom and dad want to see you?" Sandy asked.

"They were killed in an auto accident five years ago, there's just me," Friday didn't need to fake the sadness in her voice, even now their loss bit deep in her heart.

"I'm, I'm so sorry," Sandy apologized, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

"That's ok. You weren't to know. Anyway where was I?"

"You went to Washington with Steve," Jack filled in.

"Like I said, we just clicked. Steve was required to stay in Washington and I was due to fly out to Germany, and by that time neither of us could stand the thought of being apart for so long. So we drove up to New England and got married, just us two. Oh it was so romantic but we promised that we'd save up and do it properly again, a full white wedding the lot! Being a married couple, it was easier to get me transferred to Washington where we could be together. Don't worry about this being a flash in the pan, both of us are determined for this to work, and to last!" Friday gave a sweet dreamy smile.

She saw Sandy visibly relax, "That's soo romantic! Thank you for explaining it. I feel so much better now. So when is the proper wedding?"

Friday gave a relaxed smile, "We're not sure yet. Probably next summer. As you know its hard work setting up a new home. That reminds me, excuse me for a moment," Friday stood up, relieved that hers and Steve's cover story had worked so well. Still, she'd spent the last seven years as someone else, so she should have got it worked out by now.

She dashed upstairs to her room and opened her suitcase, and rummaged around until she found two of the photographs that had been faked for them. They'd selected them based on the fact that no family had been pasted in, and that the location couldn't easily be found. Taking the photographs in one hand she ran down the stairs and into the living room. Steve was still playing hooky, obviously preferring Friday to do the dirty work. "Here we go," Friday exclaimed handing the Wedding photo's to Sandy.

Sandy upended the photos and took a long look, "Ohh you look so beautiful. Is that copper red your natural hair color? Look Jack, doesn't Steve look happy!" Sandy gushed over the photos.

Friday sat down on the sofa again and bent over to talk to Sandy, "Thank you, Yeah I'm a natural redhead, but I thought it made me look about 19 so I changed it. We were both really happy. It was a special day for sure."

"So what's it like in the Air Force, do you fly?" Alex had been sitting there quietly, and now he wanted his turn to interrogate his new sister in law.

"I'm not a pilot if that's what you want to know, as to what I really do. Then I'm afraid I really can't say, "Friday replied.

"Ok," Alex looked a little deflated.

"Anyway, I need to freshen up, can I use your shower?" Friday asked. The quizzing had reached a natural break point.

"Help yourself, second left at the top of the stairs," Sandy replied.

"Thanks".

As Friday walked upstairs she heard the unmistakable sound of a motorbike engine being started, Steve had obviously and conveniently succeeded in getting it working.

--- oo ---

An hour later Friday felt much better and was in hers and Steve's room trying to get her hair back into shape. She heard a knock at the door.

"Come in, "She called.

Steve walked in, his clothes and face covered in grease, "Hi hun. Got it working at last!" He exclaimed.

"So I heard. Left me to do the dirty work then," Friday commented, a little annoyed. They were supposed to be a team.

"It worked out better that way. If I'd have joined in then, Mom would've got all defensive and it would have just simmered all till we leave. Anyway it worked. Mom and Dad have just spent the last half hour gushing over what a lovely wife I've found," Steve grinned.

"The only fly in the ointment is that we'll have to get married properly to shut them up," Friday said bitterly.

"Lot's can happen between now and then. If we don't ever set a date then it'll be ok. It's not that I see them a lot anyway. The last time I saw them, it was just after I'd come back from Korea. Understandably they wanted to be with me as much as possible. Look, they're good folks and I'd rather not piss them off," Steve explained.

"I know. It's so nice to see a family again. I've forgotten what one of those is. You don't need to worry, I won't jeopardize this for both of us," Friday replied.

Steve nodded, "Thanks. Look dinner will be served soon and then it's all hands to prepare the meal for tomorrow. I hope you can cook!"

Friday smiled, "I am to cooking what Heinlein is to employee relations."

"That bad huh?" Steve grinned back.

"In all the months we've been living together have you ever seen me prepare anything fancier than prepared meals?"

"Come to think of it, no. When it's your turn to cook we normally have take in," Steve replied.

"That's why you're still alive. I'd better go show my face, I guess you need to clean motorbike blood off of your face," Friday commented.

"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit," Steve said and taking a towel from his suitcase and headed towards the shower.

She blow dried her back to its usual style, Friday headed downstairs to see what else was going on.

She met Alex on his way up the stairs, "Hi."

Friday smiled at Steve's younger brother "Hi Alex, how's things?"

"Yeah fine, are you really in the Air Force?" He said, a little wide eyed.

"Yeah, got my dog tags if you want proof. Why do you ask?" Friday said casually.

"Just that on the wedding photos your face looks familiar," Alex queried.

He remembers me from the news reports about the school shootings, Friday thought. "I have that kind of face. Does you mom need any help in the kitchen?"

"I'm just escaping from there, so I think so," Alex replied.

"I'd better go help," Friday replied and walked downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Need any help?" Friday asked Sandy, who was busily mixing stuffing for the huge frozen turkey that sat on one of the worktops.

Sandy glanced around, "Not really, it'll be real busy tomorrow morning, but I always try and do what I can the night before. There are some pans that need washing up though," she gestured to a small pile of saucepans that she'd used to cook various sauces and prepare ingredients in.

"I'm on it," Friday replied and started to run some hot water to do the washing up.

"Thanks. Do you cook much?" Sandy asked, handing Friday another pan.

"Not really, only the basics. Nothing like this, I guess I'm too used to Air Force chow," Friday turned the faucet off and plunged a pan into the sink full of hot water and started to scrub.

"Why did you join the Air Force?" Sandy queried.

"To be honest, they offered me a good scholarship program. After my parents were killed I had nowhere else to go and I needed a trade so I joined up. The money's good and I get to see lots of places that I wouldn't otherwise get to see. Besides, it led me to Steve," Friday finished washing her pan up, placed it on the draining board and picked up another one.

"I'm sorry I gave you a hard time. I'm very protective of my sons, "Sandy offered, walking to collect some onions from the pantry.

"I understand. My Mom was the same for me. You'd get on great," Friday said. She thought back to her own Mom, in some ways Sandy was quite similar, but her Mom had an edge to her than seemed to cut right to the issue. Maybe that's where she'd got hers from?

"It must have been horrible!"

"Yeah it was. I was away at the time, I never even got the chance to say goodbye, not properly anyway. This is getting much too serious, any embarrassing stories about Steve?" Friday managed a small smile and continued to scrub the pan clean.

"Too many to mention. You might like to drop a hint you know something about garage incident, "Sandy gave Friday a smile.

"Tell on," Friday offered, placing the now clean pan on the side to drain.

"Well, when he was seven, Steve managed to find some of Jack's matches. Since it was the middle of winter, him and a bunch of other kids decided to make a camp fire. The trouble is they held it inside the garage because it was snowing outside and the matches wouldn't light."

"Ah, ok I get the picture," Friday said grinning. She'd stored it away for future use.

Friday continued to wash up in almost silence, the conversation had reached a natural pause.

"There we go, all done! Anything else?" Friday proclaimed.

"That's all. Friday, I'll finish up here," Sandy stated. The tone of her voice had warmed significantly since they'd had their chat.

"Give me a call if you need anything else doing. I'm just off to unpack," Friday walked to the towel rail, dried her hands and went upstairs to her room.

Steve was still in the shower so she took the opportunity to investigate his room some more. Apart from an old Computer and Top Gun poster, it was pretty much the room of a typical 80's teenager. She had to smile at his choice in music, mostly bland pop from now unheard of artists. A few unmarked 'mix tapes' were stashed away in cardboard boxes, and she scanned around to try and find a tape player.

"Found anything you like?" Steve's voice appeared from behind her, by the sounds of it he sounded a little irritated at her curiosity.

"Not really, you really liked this stuff?" She said holding up a Frankie Goes To Hollywood single. She couldn't help but give a Steve a bemused teasing smile.

"Hey, I'll have you know Two Tribes is collectable now. I had it imported from England especially," Steve walked over and almost snatched it from Friday grasp.

"Now the Top Gun and Huey Lewis album I can understand, But Miami Vice sound track?" Friday gestured to an LP still stacked with the all the others.

"Hey! I don't go touching your things, please leave mine alone!" Steve said tersely.

"Sorry. Did you ever have a white jacket and pastel tie? They looked hilarious!" Friday was enjoying her nostalgia trip.

"Did you ever have big hair and lurid colored hose?" Steve counted.

"No, I had some fashion sense, anyway sorry if I offended you. I was curious as to your childhood. Why don't you fill me in?" Friday stood up and pushed the box of tapes back into place.

Steve walked closer and gestured to the shelf with the trophies, "As you can see these were for my football playing. There's nothing major there, mainly county level stuff. I had the Top Gun poster, because at that age I had a major crush on Kelly McGillis."

"So did I," Friday said with a mischievous wink. There that'll get him thinking, she thought.

Steve did a double take, "Oh ok. Anyway to answer your question I did have a white suit and pastel tie, and you're really about the same age as me so what music were you into?"

Friday stuck her tongue out, it was good to have a friendly banter with Steve, "I was less of a material girl, and more of a prog rock chick. On seeing your room I understand more about why you're like you are. You can tell a lot about people by their bedrooms they had as a kid."

"So yours was full of maimed bunnies and shrunken heads?" Steve asked, with a mischievous smile.

Friday shot Steve an annoyed look. He was doing his best to push her buttons, but why? "Only those of Ex husbands!"

Steve gave a laugh, "I'd better be good then. Oh, before I forget Alex wanted to show you some of his stuff, he's into these conspiracy theory things and instead of bugging me asking about aliens and whatever, he wants to bug you about all kinds of Air Force Stuff."

"Do I have to?" Friday complained.

"Only if you want to. But you're the centre of attraction at the moment, and besides it'll keep you entertained. You're supposed to be part of the family now, "Steve gave Friday a smile.

Friday thought for a few moments, it would be a welcome diversion away from being asked personal questions, and having to be nice all the time was a little tiring. Alex would make an interesting diversion, and in spite of her skepticism he might be able to drag something up that she could use. All her instincts told her this was a set up, but in her new role as Grayson family favorite she couldn't really decline.

"Ok, I'll go see him. Which is his room?"

"Thanks. First on the right. I'll see you downstairs."

"Thanks hun," Friday said with a hint of sarcasm. Oh well best get it over with.

She knocked on Alex's bedroom door and waited for him to call for her to come in. A few seconds later he did so, and she turned the handle and walked in.

She half expected Alex's room to be decorated in X-Files posters, models of Aliens and various role playing characters. In other words she expected a geeks room. The reality was much different. A newish looking PC sat on a desk in the corner, attached to a printer, scanner and modem. To the right of the PC was a filing cabinet and a bookcase that looked to be full of a wide range of books.

Alex's double bed was just by the window, which is where Alex was sitting. "Hi Friday thanks for coming by."

"Steve talked me into it. So wass up?" she asked.

"I just wondered if you'd come across an airplane called 'the Aurora 3' in your travels? It's supposed to be able to fly from DC to Sydney in under two hours, and have special camouflage that makes it nearly invisible. I'm sure Steve told you that my hobby is finding out what really goes on in the government, y'know secret ops, black programs that kind of thing. Steve won't tell me anything, so I was hoping you might."

Friday shook her head, "Sorry, never heard of an Aurora 3? All I normally see are the usual," she decided to let the conversation carry on for a while, she did after all have to be on her best behavior today, "So what else are you working on?"

Alex's eyes lit up, and he gestured for her to sit on the bed, "This is what I've been looking at over the past six months," he got up and walked to the filing cabinet. After a couple of minutes he pulled out a blue paper folder and brought it back to the bed.

He took out the first two pages and showed them to Friday, who almost gasped in shock.

"These," Alex said, "Were taken in Australia after Dr Elizabeth Bexley took down most of the Guild Fedayeen in her attempt to kill the Guild leader Hassan. Apparently she used her changeling organ to turn herself into a kind of creature with blades where her arms should be and covered in bullet resistant armor plate. See, most of the bodies are lacking limbs, heads and some have even been ripped in two."

"Horrific," Friday forced herself to stay. Visions of that particular fight came flooding back; of scything down people, as though they were blades of wheat, of using her blade arms to rip Guild agents in half and giving them no mercy or quarter at all. By the time she had made it to Hassan's fortified office the corridors outside resembled an abattoir.

"Yeah. I've not seen anything like it, not even in Sci-Fi movies. I mean these guys were supposed to be elite soldiers. In spite of them having automatic weapons, grenades etc. She just carved up them like the turkey we're having tomorrow. They had no chance."

"Your point being. Dr Bexley committed suicide, and all the changelings are dead," Friday said. FUCK! Steve had to be told!

"Are they? Look here," Alex handed Friday a photocopy of the news item from the Russian newspaper, the one that Heinlein had showed her.

"So, All I see is four dead guys," Friday commented. She wanted to know what Alex knew.

"NO! look at the injuries. Decapitations, dismembered limbs and the head on the chest was a cute move. These wounds weren't caused by metal blades, but organic ones. Then there's this, "Alex handed Friday a few computer printed photos.

"Shit!" she breathed. The printouts were of her massacre of Daryl's guards in the record store. Where in hell had he got them from!

"Exactly. Look the method of killing is just the same. You know what this means?"

"I'm not sure," Friday didn't need to acted surprised and shocked.

"It means our government has got its own changeling. Now some people have said that Dr Bexley isn't really dead, but is being employed by the government, and others say she is and that the government stole her technology before she died."

Holy fuck! Why hadn't Heinlein or Steve told her about this! "Where did you get all this stuff from?" She asked curiously.

"From the internet. There are loads of us working on what really went on a few months back. Personally I think Dr Bexley is really dead, Matthew and Jane Stephens knew her too well not to ID the body correctly. Therefore that leaves the fact that the government has and is developing changelings to use as a weapon. By the looks of those pictures they're already in use!

That explained how the Guild knew she was still alive, they'd gone thru the same process as Alex had, she tried to be dismissive, "This is all circumstantial. It makes a nice conspiracy theory, but the government would never risk creating a changeling army."

"Well, maybe they've got just the one, or maybe two. But the photos speak for themselves, there's at least one or more changelings still running around doing whatever the CIA, NSA or some black ops division wants them to."

'Aint that the truth', Friday thought, but then said, "So what are you going to do?"

"There's not much we can do, except gather data and wait until we have proper proof. We'll then go to the media and expose the whole thing," Alex said eagerly.

"Good luck. I'm sorry I can't help you on the Aurora 3 thing. The changeling theory does sound interesting, but I reckon there's a more rational explanation than genetic mutants running around," Friday thought carefully, she'd need to sow the seeds of doubt in Alex's mind and thru him to the rest of his internet investigator friends

"Such as?" Alex sounded interested.

"When I was out in Korea, I saw some special ops guys, they had weird combat knives. I did some digging around and found out that the military is experimenting with organic weapons. Knives and blades that are made from living tissue and can repair themselves in some kind of gel. Judging by the wounds on these photo's I reckon that's what did it. Organic blades," Friday stated. In theory, such technology was possible but a long way off. However, Alex wasn't to know that.

"Cool! Do you know what they're called. That makes sense!" Alex enthused.

'Hook, line and sinker', Friday thought, "Only by a code name, Crysknife."

"Like in Dune!" Alex exclaimed.

"If that's were the word comes from. Anyway, these are pretty new, but I'm sure that one of them could do the injuries you've shown me," Friday inwardly smiled, giving the fictional knifes a sci-fi name would make the theory more attractive to Alex and his ilk.

"Thanks Friday. If you'll excuse me I need to get this out on the BBS, this really helps! Don't worry I don't mention my sources."

Friday smiled, "Thanks, if you excuse me Steve promised to show me round his hometown."

"Thanks again, "Alex casually stood up and walked towards his computer.

Friday watched him switch it on, before leaving the room to find Steve.

She found him in the living room, about to watch TV, "Steve, you promised to show me round your hometown."

"It's nearly dark, we'll do it tomorrow," Steve stated.

"Steve, we won't have time as I have to help Sandy cook and then we have to leave soon after. Come on don't be lazy," She gave Steve a 'come with me NOW! Look.

Steve got the hint, "Yeah I can't do without my thanksgiving dinner. I'll go get my coat," he stood up and walked to the front door, collecting his coat on the way.

When they were finally in the car, and on their way to his old school, Steve turned to Friday and asked "So what was that all about. My mom and dad must think I've got thumb prints on my head already!"

"I had the chat with Alex. Steve, we're in trouble," Friday said earnestly.

"Why?"

"He showed me his latest project, well the project him and loads of his internet buddies have been working on. He had pictures of the Guild Fedayeen I killed, the report from the Russian newspaper on those mafia hitmen I took out, and also some scanned images of the fight I had in the record store. Him and his geek friends are piecing it together, based on the MO of the killings."

"What! They know you're alive and running around killing people for the CIA!" Steve's face took on a very serious look.

"No. They only suspect. Some of them think that I'm still alive, the others think the government has changeling technology and is using it," Friday said carefully.

"Fuck and Dammit! What does Alex think?"

"That the CIA have changeling tech, and that I'm dead. I gave him a nudge in a wrong direction but it'll need yours and Heinlein's help to make it work."

"What'd you tell him?" Steve asked, his face showing concern.

"I told him the army had developed a new organic knife, that could regrow the blade. I also told him that the knife could cause injuries like he showed me. I was stuck for a name so I called it a Crysknife, after the blades in Dune. I thought a nod to sci-fi would help his geek friends believe it. We need to get some kind of leaked document out or at least rumors that back up what I told him," Friday explained.

Steve nodded, "I'll get on it. I'm sure I'll be the most popular guy in Langley after this, but it should divert them away, especially if we deny this knife even exists. That's a sure fire way to make them believe it. What's Alex up to now?"

"He's on the internet, no doubt telling his little conspiracy theory sewing circle what I said," Friday stated.

Steve pulled into the parking lot of a large park, "This is where I spent a lot of my youth, there's a series of railings at the other side of it. I used to see how many I could jump over before I tripped over. My record is 14. We'll try and beat it after I make the call. "Friday, pass me my cell phone please. It's in the glove box, "Steve asked.

Friday opened the glove box, pulled out Steve's Nokia and handed it to Steve who then pressed one on his speed dial. "Heinlein, its Steve. We have a problem."

--- oo ---

"HAH! 17, I win!" Friday exclaimed after hurdling over the last railing and leaving Steve sprawling in her wake.

"Yeah ok. Anyway, that was the park. As you can see, there wasn't much to do as a kid," Steve replied.

"Same here. It's odd. I could have had anything I wanted as a kid, but I still thought there wasn't enough to do and now I'm an adult I have too much of the wrong thing to do," Friday commented.

Steve nodded in agreement, "Like phoning Heinlein on thanksgiving eve," He continued to brush himself down, but in vain.

Friday looked at the state of Steve's clothes, "Y'know your mom and dad will think we've been up to more than a sight seeing trip!"

"Tell me about it! During your little chat with Alex I got the full on 'when're you going to have children' chat. It's really weird, lying to my family. It's not something I'm used to," Friday noted that Steve's face showed that he was more uncomfortable with the idea than she was.

"So where to next?" Friday asked. She didn't want Steve to dwell on how easily she managed to deceive people.

"My school's closed, as is the mall anything else you want to see?" Steve asked.

"I'm still not seeing the you, you. Tell me some stories about when you a boy," Friday asked.

Steve shrugged, "As you've seen, there's not much to say. As you pointed out I had crap taste in music, clothes and women."

"Women? So how many girlfriends did you have before me?" Friday asked. She took some satisfaction and comfort in the fact that she felt a little jealous at the thought of Steve with other women.

"Not many. I had the obligatory few at high school. Nothing really serious as we were just kids fooling around. After I joined up, I didn't have time for girlfriends but there was one," Steve's tone of voice became more introspective, more serious.

"What happened to her?" Friday asked. This was the first time Steve had opened, really opened up to her and she wasn't going to squander the chance.

Steve turned away from Friday, and back towards the park, "We were both on a mission in Ireland. We were helping MI-6 trace IRA funds and weapons back to the US. We were posing as IRA sympathizers and about to set up a sting operation and then it all went wrong."

Friday walked closer to Steve and took his hand, "Then what happened?"

She felt Steve give her hand a squeeze, "I'm not sure. Maybe someone recognized us from other ops, maybe we were betrayed all I know was that moments before the transaction they pulled out automatic weapons and shot her point blank in the face. I watched her die in front of me."

Friday put an arm around Steve's waist and snuggled closer, "Steve, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Were you close?"

"Jane and I were engaged. We'd known each other years, she loved this park.." Steve's voice tailed off.

Friday noted the tear glistening on Steve's face and pulled him round to face her, "I don't know what to say. For what it's worth I'm not planning on getting killed anytime soon."

"Neither was Jane," Steve paused before turning away once more, "Neither was Jane."

His reaction to her made sense now. He was afraid to get close, too close to her in case he lost her like he had Jane. He had waited until he was on home turf, till he felt safe to open up to her, then another realization hit, "You still love her don't you?"

She felt Steve's arm around her slim waist, "Part of me does, maybe part of me always will. It was four years ago, I should move on, most of me has."

She turned to him and ran her hand down his cheek. "Maybe we all should."

Steve took her hand and pressed it against his chest, "Friday, everything in me wants to love you, wants to kiss you and hold you; but something inside is screaming 'NO!' at me."

Friday didn't reply, but kissed him passionately on the lips. Steve was so shocked he nearly forgot to respond, but within moments was glad he did.

--- oo ---

An hour later a very flushed looking Steve and Friday walked in to Steve's parent's house looking like two guilty teenagers who'd been caught making out in the car.

"Nice ride?" Jack commented with a knowing smile, and a nod towards Steve's muddy pants.

"Not bad, Friday managed to beat my record for jumping railings.

"17, I think that'll stand for a while. Does Sandy need any help or anything, I feel I thought I should be doing more," Friday offered.

"No, just kick back and chill. I know we'll all need some help tomorrow," Jack replied.

Taking Jack's advice Friday flopped down on the sofa, and Steve joined her. For the first time in a long, long time it felt right to have someone sit next to her in a boyfriend way. Her emotions were still confused, still the hurt and pain remained but she forced herself to put that to one side. She had another chance of happiness and she'd be damned if she was going to let it slide. For sure she hadn't abandoned her caution or desire to take things slow, but she was sure of one thing. Steve was the man she wanted to take things slow with.

The evening passed with a wide range of conversation, including Friday being asked the children question by Sandy, who was clearly looking forward to being a Grandma. Most of the area where her womb and uterus should be was taken up by secondary vital organs, Friday would need to be 100% she was safe before becoming pregnant. As it stood it was a useful method of contraception. Naturally Friday said none of this, not even Steve knew of it, something's were too personal. Instead she informed Sandy that she was still young, and wanted to make at least Captain before taking a career break.

At around ten am, Friday declared that she was going to bed. She needed to rest up and that when she was relaxed it made her body feel overly tired. That and her brief, stolen tryst with Steve had left her feeling warm and tingly all over. It had been years since she'd felt that way, ever since Cathline in fact.

"Night Friday," Jack said as she got up and headed towards her bedroom.

Before tonight she had planned to turn her head into a copy of Heinlein's to dissuade Steve from getting too near, but now as she put her Pajamas on, she found herself looking forward to spooning with Steve. It would the perfect end to a wonderful day.

--- oo ---

She awoke with Steve still cuddling her breasts from behind. They must have slept in each others arms all night. For the first time in seemingly years she had slept, really slept with no hint of the night terrors that she often had to drive away.

She felt Steve kiss the back of her neck, "Morning," he whispered.

"Hmmm," She whispered and pulled Steve's hands even closer to her.

"Time to get up! Its 8am!" Steve replied, extricating himself from Friday.

"Did I really sleep all night?" Friday asked, swinging her legs out of the bed.

"Yup. I slept like a log all night too. Do you want a shower first?" Steve asked, getting out of bed also.

"Please, I need to go and peel Sweet potatoes for Sandy."

"She'll appreciate that, in any case I need to check up with Heinlein, or at least the office. I'll see you down."

It took seemingly hours to prepare the meal and Sandy was somewhat of a perfectionist when it came to meal preparation. However under her patient instruction Friday was soon enjoying herself and from that point on the time flew by.

Then at 3pm the entire family sat down around the table, while Sandy bought the steaming hot turkey in, complete with all the usual trimmings. "Friday, as the guest of honor would you like the carve it," Jack offered.

"Sure," Friday said and picked up the carving knife and a large fork in which to hold the turkey still. Using practiced slices, as though she was performing a surgical procedure she cut off sections from the turkey and placed them on a spare, warmed plate.

"Nice carving," Jack complimented.

"Thanks," Friday replied and handed the knife and fork back to Jack, who placed them on the table.

Jack then took over as master of ceremonies, "We have a tradition in this family, that we all share a little memory of thanksgivings past and remember the good times we've all had together. Sandy, why don't you go first?"

Sandy took a few moments and then spoke, "I remember our first thanksgiving together as a family."

"Aw not that one again, you tell it every time," Alex interrupted.

Sandy shot him a shut it look. "As I was saying our first thanksgiving as a complete family. We were just about to sit down to eat and the power went off. We had to eat the entire meal by candlelight. It didn't matter to us that we had no heat or light, only that we were together. I'd like to thank Steve for firstly finding such a wonderful wife in Friday, and welcome her to the family."

"My turn," Alex jumped in.

"Ok, but make it a nice one," Sandy reminded.

"Sure, I remember last year, we sat around this table and wished Steve was here. We hopped and prayed for his safe return. We all knew deep down he was still alive, but we had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Now, my big bro is back and with us again, complete with a 100% babe for a wife," Alex fell silent. He'd run out of things to say.

Steve glanced around the table, nervously, "I'd like to nominate this thanksgiving," he started to say.

"Hey that's not allowed. You have to choose one in the past!" Alex complained.

"Wait till I've done!" Steve retorted.

"Ok, but it's still cheating!" Alex replied sulkily.

"My last two thanksgivings were spent away from you all, so that makes this one extra special, because I'm back safe and sound and happier than I've ever been," Steve shot Alex a 'See!' look.

Jack nodded in agreement and looked proudly across at both Alex and Steve, "The thanksgiving I remember is just before dad died. He called me over and made me promise to lead this family with honor, openness and integrity. I'm proud of my two sons for carrying on that promise and I'm thankful for two wonderful young men who are following in dad's footsteps. I'd also like to agree with Sandy, Friday welcome to the family!"

Friday felt uneasy, "I, I remember the last thanksgiving I spent with my parents," tears sprung up in her eyes s the memories came flooding back, "For the first time in seven years I feel part of a family again, I… I miss them!" she felt the tears grow until she could hardly see, "Excuse me!" she snuffled and fled from the table.

She ran upstairs to her room and unable to hold back the tears any longer sobbed into her pillow. A few moments later Steve knocked at the door and walked in, "You ok?"

"Steve, I can't do this! I can't lie to these people any more! For the first time in nearly seven years I feel part of a family, a real proper family who loves me for who I am! I feel like they've just been killed all over again."

"Your parents?" Steve asked quietly, and sat down on the bed

Friday felt Steve's hand gently stroking her black hair, and it bought some comfort, "yeah," She nodded.

"I understand. Do you want me to go?"

Friday shook her head in her pillow, "No, Stay. I need you!"

Steve said nothing, but Friday felt his comforting touch as she cried her grief out.

Some time later after the tears had subsided, Steve asked, "You ready to go down? I'm sure Alex has left you some."

Friday rolled over, sat up and nodded "Yeah I'm ok. We'd better go."

"Sorry about that!" Friday apologized, getting back at the table.

"That's ok dear. We're just glad you're here. Let's start eating shall we?" Sandy gave Friday her 'caring mom' look.

"Thanks," Friday replied, feeling much better she picked up her fork and started to eat.

--- oo ---

"Sorry Sandy. I can't fit in another piece of Pecan pie. Honest. I have a figure to worry about!" Friday felt as stuffed as the turkey she had just helped demolish. She ignored Steve's incredulous look.

"Another Grayson family tradition is that the guys all clear and wash up while we ladies retire to the living room," Sandy explained.

"Suits me!" Friday stated wearily. The meal had now fully recharged her reserves and then some, "I need a sit down before we have to leave!"

"Can't you both stay longer? You've only just got here!" Alex complained.

"That's the only downside to the armed forces, you have to be back when they want you back," Friday stated. She would dearly love to stay longer, but not knowing how things would work out they'd booked flights out that evening.

"We understand," Jack offered.

Friday excused herself from the table and sat down on the sofa, listening to the clink of plates being cleared away by Alex, Jack and Steve. An hour later the washing up had all been done, and it was time for her and Steve to pack.

Friday checked her watch. It was nearly 10pm and time for her and Steve to leave. She hated to go, just when she was starting to feel a sense of belonging once more. There would be, she consoled herself other times, Christmas was just around the corner and she was sure she'd be back here for then.

The other major change was that of how she saw Steve, no longer was he someone to hold at arms length, or someone she allowed the occasional incursion into her heart. For the first time since her Fury took hold, she was seeing someone. The magnitude of that step wasn't lost on her, not only did she feel as though she had joined a family, but she had taken a giant leap towards being whole again.

They parted from Steve's family amid much hugging and invitations to come back from Christmas.

They reached the airport in record time, as the roads were still quiet and were just unpacking the car to check in when Steve looked at Friday sadly, "While you were chilling out on the sofa, I got a message from Heinlein. He needs me in LA for a few days, to help coordinate this fake knife thing, and also help the LA CTU track down a Guild splinter cell. Don't worry it's only a desk job, and I'll be back in five days or so. Hopefully we can pick up where we left off?"

Friday nodded, she would miss him. The answer to Steve's question came in the form of a long kiss that made her heart soar.

29. Proliferation
--------------------

Friday's flight left first, so Steve was there to see her off, and a few hours later she was at her doorstep alone once more. Taxi's had been hard to find and she resented paying double fare, but unless she wanted to walk home she had no other choice.

It was typical of Heinlein, dragging her and Steve apart just when things were looking up, still if it was right it could wait.

She opened her front door and switched on the light. Subconsciously she glanced down at the mat and found another white envelope. "Fuck!" she picked it up, hoping it was another flyer but on flipping it over swore loudly. It was another message from the Guild Faction.

--- oo ---

Friday slammed the door behind her and tore the envelope open. It just said one word, "Wait!"

'Fine!' Friday thought and carried her luggage into her room and started to unpack. Although she was tired from the journey, her mind was buzzing. Gut feel told her that she had to be getting close to the Guild Faction's final objective. After all, Kat was now six months pregnant and whatever they had planned would have to happen within the next two months, as they couldn't guarantee when Elizabeth would be born. To be really sure it would have to come to a head within the next month.

She couldn't help but feel she had missed a trick somewhere down the line, the Guild Faction were frighteningly thorough and in this case they had left themselves so open it was if they expected her to fight back. Still, if the Guild Faction had a weakness it was their over confidence and she was poised to take advantage of that any time they liked.

Half an hour later there was a knock at the door and Friday peered thru the spyhole. It was the same Guild agent as she'd met at the club. She sighed and opened the door, "You're taking one hell of a risk!" she stated. 'Talk about over confidence!'

The Guild agent walked in, held up a finger as if to say 'hush!' and after a few seconds rummaging inside the laptop bag over his shoulder, he glanced around as if studying the layout of the house before pulling out a small matchbox sized device. It beeped for a few moments, before a small LED went from yellow to green. A few seconds later he replied, "The room is clear, and the risk is acceptable, for both of us!" he pocketed the scanner and waited for Friday's reply.

Friday saw what he meant if she turned him in, had set him up or he was seen it would be her who faced the firing squad, maybe literally! "What do you want?"

Still standing on the "Your next mission is an urgent one. Hence the visit. We are short of heavy weapons, RPG-7's the Kornet missiles you used to rescue Omar, SA-14 SAM's, Harpoon anti ship missiles and we also need several kilos of Semtex. Our recent activities have depleted our supplies and in order to continue out campaign we need to rearm."

"I see," Friday said almost thru gritted teeth. The bastards wanted her to help them re-arm so they could kill more innocents!

"That is not all. We can normally get these weapons anywhere, but there is one supplier in Syria who has the other items we need. Hassan Abed Rabbo is a weapons dealer in Syria. He has obtained two fully operational Mig-29 Fulcums complete with related spares and cluster munitions. We want you to fly to Syria, and once you are happy, perform the transaction. You need not concern yourself with how and where the weapons are going, only that Hassan has them and there are what he says they are."

Mig 29's! They were pretty much state of the art fighter bombers, why in hell would the Guild want those? In addition, they were buying them with cluster bombs! Before she could reply the Guild agent spoke up, "As I said you needn't be concerned with what we are going to use them for, just that we need them," he placed his laptop bag on the table and turned to face Friday once more, "Inside this bag is a laptop PC, complete with Satellite connection. When you are satisfied with the merchandise then switch it on and enter the code 'Wildfire' the money will then be directly transferred into Hassan's bank account. If the merchandise is not satisfactory, then enter the code 'squib' and although Hassan will think he has the money, it will not be transferred. In this case you are to kill Hassan and any guards he has around him, "The Guild agent paused and looked Friday in the eye, "We do not tolerate betrayal."

"Why me? How in hell do I know if a Mig 29 will fly or not!?" With those two aircraft and used in the right way, the Guild Faction could start a war! How in hell was she supposed to stop this!

"Hassan has agreed to a demonstration, you will witness the Mig's being test flown, the other weapons will be in sealed crates and you should be able to check if they have been damaged in some way. You will leave at 5am this morning and take flight BA222 to Damascus. You tickets are passport are here," The Guild agent reached in his pocket and threw two plane tickets and a passport onto the table.

As casually as she could, Friday picked up the passport and glanced at the face, "You must be kidding. This face is a real close match to mine, sure the eyes are dark brown, the eyelashes subtly different and maybe the nose is slightly different. But anyone who sees this will think it could well be me!" Fuck! This smelt like a setup, were the Guild Faction planning to use the Migs and cluster bombs on her! But then why not just use a sniper to take her out? It was much cheaper and significantly less risky.

"The differences are small but significant. People who know who you are will expect you to be someone radically different. After all you would have to be a fool to travel as almost yourself. Besides, you will not be discovered," The Guild agent tried to give a comforting smile.

"Then what do I do?" Friday demanded.

"Once in Damascus you are booked into the Semiramis Hotel and at 9:20am, a cab will take you to a small industrial unit just off Amid Street. You'll recognize it because it will have a yellow painted front with blue window frames and shutters. Hassan will be inside. From there he will no doubt take you to where he has hidden the Mig 29's, Once you have performed the transaction, leave the laptop at Damascus international airport's left luggage and fly back."

"Easy as that huh!" Friday said sarcastically.

"If you do as we say, then it will be as you say 'as easy as that'!" The Guild agent turned to go.

"How many more of these little errands will you be getting me to do?" Friday demanded.

"Enough to ensure that we continue to flourish! One of the reasons why we are so low on weapons is that our ranks have swelled on the back of the work you did for us previously. Omar is now in command of these new recruits and their training is going well. Goodbye Dr Bexley, please don't let us down. Time is getting short if you want us to save your daughter!" With that the Guild Agent gave Friday a single fingered salute and left the house.

Friday slammed the door behind him, "DAMMIT!" she swore. They were using her to rebuild the Guild she and others had sacrificed so much to take down. The only was she could stop the Guild Faction getting its hands on those weapons would be to kill Hassan and make out as though it was a rip off. However she was sure that Hassan's organization would soon make it clear to the Guild Faction what had gone on, and she would be right in the middle of it. She'd have to think of a counter mission on the way over, as she barely had enough time to repack before she had to leave.

She picked up the passport and studied the features and description. It was far too close to hers to make her really comfortable, but no doubt Hassan had been given her description and would kill anyone else who tried to bluff their way in. In spite of her misgivings she had no choice.

She decided she'd travel light, and only take her long leather coat to keep the night chill out. She walked to her bedroom and picked up her black leather pants, black T-shirt, a long red skirt and some flat shoes. Although warmer than Washington, she knew from experience that Damascus could get pretty cold at night and still hover around the high 50's F during the day. It was still pretty cold outside, so she opted to put on the pants, boots and coat for the journey over. She felt most comfortable in those and they wouldn't hinder her movement.

The last thing she did was change her face to match that of 'Alexandria Tamsett', the woman on the passport the Guild agent had given her. Then, slinging the laptop bag over her shoulder walked outside to try and find a cab. She daren't risk placing the call either from her cell phone or home phone.

It took her nearly forty minutes to find a cab that would take her to the airport, but within an hour she was handing over her tickets and passport ready to fly out to Syria. It would be a 15 hour flight, and she'd catch up with her sleep on the way. So far so good, but a warning voice inside her was telling her that there was more to this particular mission than at first glance. For sure she'd need to be on her toes the whole time. The other major task she had was to find someway of preventing the Guild Faction getting their hands on those weapons, especially the fully armed Mig 29's.

--- oo ---

It was nearly 9pm when she landed at Damascus international airport and after she collected her bag from the collection area she walked out into the cool, fresh night air. Just like now, the last time she'd been here, she was working for the real Guild, and as usual she would have little time for sightseeing. She hailed a cab and after a shot cab ride, in which again the driver wouldn't shut up she arrived outside of her Hotel.

The Semiramis Hotel was a large imposing structure at over seven floors it was one of the premier hotels in downtown Damascus. No doubt the Guild Faction wanted her to be well rested for her mission tomorrow. It's brightly front put a sodium orange glow over the entire front of the hotel and lit up the surrounding area. "It'll do," Friday said, pleased to be at least in a place where she could get a hot shower.

After checking in and being shown to her fifth floor room Friday headed straight for the shower, she'd need to feel on top form for tomorrow.

An hour later and still drying her hair, Friday ordered a sandwich from room service and sat down to try and work out how in hell she could stop the transaction from going ahead.

In spite of three hours of solid thinking she had resigned herself to the fact, that pending Hassan ripping them off, the Guild Faction was going to get their hands on some pretty lethal weaponry. The best she could think of doing was to remember the serial numbers and parts list of the weapons and then discreetly pass them onto the intelligence services. For sure Mossad, now working in cooperation with the CIA would be all to keen to find out where and what the Guild Faction had acquired. She checked her watch, it was nearly 1am and she needed to sleep.

--- oo ---

When she awoke at just before 8am it was still cool outside with some low clouds that threatened some degree of rain. The skirt was therefore out of the question, and she was she would need the edge that her 'killing outfit' gave her. After a light breakfast, she collected her bags and checked out.

As promised a cab drew up just where she was waiting and enquired if she was Alexandria Tamsett. She nodded, and showed the driver her passport. With a nod of approval he gestured for her to get in the rusty, white painted Ford. It took nearly half an hour to drive along narrow streets, with white painted houses and buildings on either side. Apart from the cars and occasional freeway, Damascus looked as it might have done a few hundred years ago. Every so often a large glass window'd skyscraper would pierce the skyline reminding everyone that this was now the 21st century.

"Here we are!" The Taxi driver had stopped just outside the building the Guild agent had described. As promised the front was painted a light yellow and sky blue painted shutters adorned each of the six windows.

"How much?" Friday asked reaching for her laptop bag.

"It has been paid for," The taxi driver confirmed.

"Ok," Friday nodded and got out of the cab.

She gingerly knocked on the door "Hi, Alexandria Tamsett here. We have some business to attend to."

There was no reply, so she gently tried the door, it was unlocked. 'Here goes' she said to herself and opened the door.

The interior was dimly lit by only a single light bulb. Before she could investigate any further she felt the cool metal barrel of a gun in her back instinctively she put her hands up.

"Ms Tamsett, so nice to meet you at last," An accented voice boomed from somewhere behind a supporting pillar.

"That's me. You want to see some ID?" Friday said as calmly as she could muster. She could only ID the one shooter who had a gun to her back, there was little chance she could take him out before he caused her serious injury.

"Please," the voice demanded.

"I'm going to reach into my pocket and pull out my passport," Friday slowly and showing all her fingers reached into her long coat pocket and threw her passport on the ground.

Another figure, armed with an AK47 appeared from her left and picked it up.

A few seconds later the voice spoke again, "Good, now the introductions are over we can continue," There was a click of fingers and the gun in her back was lowered and she could breathe a sigh of relief.

Still hidden somewhere towards the back of the building the voice called out "So my old friends at the Guild have sent you to buy some of my goods. I have dealt with them many times, but alas I fear they will soon cease to be such good customers. Anyway, I expect you want to see what you have ordered.

"Yes please, I am authorized to complete the transaction for the agreed price, once I am satisfied that all is in order," Friday put on her most authoritative voice.

There was a loud laugh "Good, then let us proceed."

She saw a door being opened at the far end of the room and cautiously she walked towards it, expecting to be shot at any moment. The door let out to behind the shop where three Toyota Hi-Trak trucks of various condition sat waiting. Sitting in the load bay of each truck were four men in combat fatigues with scarves around their nose and mouth. Each carried either an AK 47 or a Colt 45 pistol.

A large man, around 6'4 appeared from another door to her left, his heavily bearded face beamed with welcome and a bulge in his clean grey suit indicated he was armed. "Alexandria! My dear, please excuse the company but it's required in these unfortunate days."

The man's voice matched that of the one in the room, Friday took a guess "Hassan Abed Rabbo I presume?"

The man beamed, "Of course. Now please come and join me and we'll go show you your fighter planes and after we've done business we will celebrate as befits your good custom!"

Hassan walked towards the lead truck and after beckoning her to follow sat down in the drivers seat. Friday glanced around at her armed escort, for sure she wouldn't guarantee her chances against all them at once. Once again she had little choice but to go along with it. She had to rely on Hassan making a mistake somewhere, or even for the slightest chance of her being able to wreck the deal.

The convoy was regarded by all passers by with indifference. Obviously they were used to men such as Hassan having an armed escort at all times and even the police just waved them on at a checkpoint on the outskirts of the city.

They had been driving along a dirt track for nearly an hour. It had rained overnight which had helped to keep the dust levels down. Even now the temperature was still in the mid 50's and she was grateful she hadn't worn anything thinner. Outside the scenery was pretty featureless, except for the odd pipeline, small village or small hill.

Hassan remained silent, but Friday knew she was being studied. This was as much of a test as her showing her passport. Half hour later they pulled off the track and into a wide open plain. Sitting on a solid compacted dirt runway were two squat and menacing in a shark like manner twin tailed aircraft. 'Fuck' Friday breathed to herself. She'd hoped that Hassan didn't really have the Migs, and yet here they were, still with Russian insignia and in light yellow and green camouflage.

To one side was a large concrete building, with a control tower.
Hassan turned to Friday and gestured to the sky, "The sky is too cloudy for a proper demonstration, but as you will see they fly just as well!"

"And what of the other weapons?" Friday asked.

"They are inside the building. We'll check them out while the main attractions are being prepared," Hassan pulled up alongside the white concrete wall of the building.

"After you," He said switching off the trucks engine.

"Mind if I have a look at them?" Friday asked, opening the door.

"Of course, let me show you round them while the pilots get ready," Hassan opened the door and walked around to where Friday was standing.

They walked together towards the aircraft, "Now these are Mig 29M's. Normally these have been stripped of anything that the Mikoyan Design Bureau thinks too good for the rest of the world. These," Hassan gestured to the aircraft once more, "Still have the upgrades in place. The pilot can target another aircraft just by looking at it, and this variant has the full air to ground modifications."

Friday noted the largest squat looking bombs attached to the wings, "These are the cluster munitions right?"

Hassan nodded, "yes. These are RBK-250's. Each containing 150 bomblets that can kill any and all soft targets within a 4km square radius "

Friday didn't need to ask what soft targets were, People, trucks and cars. The thought of these weapons being used on innocents made her shudder. She had to stop this! "30mm cannon, right?" She gestured to a hole towards the nose of the aircraft

"Yes, these are fitted with a 30mm Gryazev/Shipunov GSh-30 cannon. We have supplied 10,000 rounds of ammunition for them, since they are normally loaded with 150 that should be plenty," Hassan gave a laugh as if comparing sports cars to one another.

"What spares do have you for them?" Friday asked, gesturing towards the engines.

"Enough to build 2 complete engines, with enough spares to keep them flying for 2000 hours," Hassan said proudly.

"They seem in order, how about a demonstration?"

"Of course, it will take a while to perform pre flight checks, but they are fuelled and ready. Why don't we go and see the rest of the merchandise."

"Please," Friday said in her most businesslike manner, and started to walk towards the building.

Hassan led her into the foyer of the building, which was just as she expected. Cold looking green painted concrete walls with a staircase leading up to presumably was where the control tower and complex were.

"To your right," Hassan gestured to a set of double doors.

Inside the room were what looked to be a large portion of Hassan's guard. It was a wide open space, brightly lit but with no furniture to speak of. Only a table and two chairs were at the far end. The rest of the floor was covered in green boxes and crates of ammunition.

"Over there are the 10 Kornet missiles you ordered," Hassan pointed to 10 large metal cases nearest the door, "The largest cases to the back contain the four Harpoon anti ship missiles and the others contain RPG-7's and assorted ammunition. Feel free to check them. I'll be outside getting ready for the demonstration."

It took Friday an hour, to check each one of the cases. At any one time there were at least five guards watching her every move. To her despair it all checked out, and she had no excuse for not going ahead with the transfer.

"All finished?" Hassan walked in, flanked by two men in G suits.

"Yes it all seems in order. Lead on," Friday stated following Hassan back outside

A few minutes later a loud roar reverberated around her as the engines of both Mig's started and they taxied into position.
The Mig which Friday had inspected was the first to take off, its whole airframe seemed to shake under the thrust of the twin engines, before with a loud roar it catapulted up the runway and into the air. A minute or so later it was joined by the second Mig and they both hurtled vertically upwards into the cloud.

Friday edged nearer Hassan. If they were going to try and take her out, they wouldn't do so when she was so near their boss.

"Impressive yes?" Hassan roared over the noise.

Friday nodded.

"Look, see the truck over there in the distance?" Hassan pointed to the Horizon

Friday followed his finger and saw a Toyota truck, like the one she had ridden in. It had been parked well away from anyone and was clearly going to be used as target practice.

Without warning the whole area around the truck erupted in multiple explosions that seemed to rip the soil right up from the ground. The truck vanished in a cloud of dust, smoke and fire.

Seconds later the explosions died down, leaving the truck a wreck and the whole area around it looking like a ploughed field. "Cluster bomb!" Hassan grinned.

"So I see," Friday said, sickened by the sight.

"Normally you mix the bomblets up, some explode on contact, others act like small landmines to deter people from clearing up. Note how this version of the Fulcrum can hit targets even thru low cloud. Quite a show!" Hassan exclaimed.

Friday interpreted this as 'are you ready to sign' "Yes I'm impressed. Shall we go inside?"

Hassan gave a broad smile and nodded his agreement Friday could still hear the Mig's circling somewhere, presumably waiting for the OK signal from Hassan.

Friday was still thinking how she could skew the deal as she walked into the building once more. With this many armed men, to take on she was at a loss. If she attacked using her changeling abilities, she would have to kill every single one in case word got out. She followed Hassan, back into the room where the other weapons were stored.

Friday put her laptop bag on the table and pulled out a sleek black and silver Dell laptop. She also pulled out a small dish and connected it to the Dell's USB port. It would allow the laptop to connect to the Guild Faction's bank account and transfer the money via satellite. "I'm happy it's all in order. It'll take a few minutes for the laptop to boot up!"

Hassan nodded his agreement and ordered five of the fifteen men in the room outside to guard the door.

"Here we go," Friday said, swivelling the laptop screen around to show Hassan.

"I will call my bank to confirm transfer of funds," Hassan replied and pulled a small Nokia phone from his suit pocket.

The laptop finished booting and Friday was greeted with an 'Enter password' prompt.

She glanced around, hoping to find a chink, any excuse not to go thru with it, but there was none. Taking a deep resigned sigh she somehow managed to keep to herself she typed in 'Wildfire' and pressed enter.

The screen changed and showed that the figure of 500 million dollars was being transferred into Hassan' bank account. She was staggered that the Guild Faction still had that much money to draw on, she'd been told that all bank accounts relating to the Guild had been frozen. Obviously not.

Seconds later the transfer finished and the screen showed a window stating that the transfer was complete.

Hassan nodded in satisfaction and dialled a number on his cell phone, a few moments later he beamed and said, "Thank you, the money has been transferred. Have a nice day."

Friday was about to make a remark when gunfire echoed around the room from outside, Hassan had drawn his .45 and had it pointing at her head.

"Well Ms Tamsett. Thank you for that. My real name is Major Joshua Stern of the Israeli Institute for Intelligence and Special Tasks. I really hope for your sake you cooperate with us fully. We of Mossad do not take terrorism lightly."

--- oo ---

Friday's heart sank. Fuck! It had been a sting operation and she'd walked right into it! "Ok, I'll cooperate," she raised her hands in the air. Now what in hell was she supposed to do?

"This way please Ms Tamsett," Major Stern ordered and he pointed for her to walk outside the room. With a gun pointing at her head she had no choice but to comply.

The double doors opened to reveal 10 of Major Stern's men dragging bodies into a pile in the corner, "This way please," Major Stern gestured to another room and one of the other men opened the door for him as Friday was frog marched inside.

The room was dimly lit and tiled from floor to ceiling; she noted a small gutter running to one side that disappeared into a drain somewhere. On a nearly table was a selection of surgical instruments and medicines. In corner was what looked like defibrillator on a stand next to it was a lie detector? The room could have only one purpose. To extract information any way possible and that gave Friday hope. After all she worked for the good guys too!

A stainless steel chair sat in the middle of the room, just by the drain. "Sit down!" Major Stern ordered, Friday glanced around to see he had been joined by six other guards, all pointing weapons at her.

"Ok, before we do all the torture shit we need to talk," Friday casually walked over to the chair and sat down as though she were in her living room back home.

She felt her arms being grabbed from behind her and felt handcuffs being slapped around them, "I said there's no need for this."

"I'll decide that!" Major Stern stated. He put his pistol back inside his suit while two of his men wheeled the lie detector over and placed the electrode on her forehead.

"This is a lie detector, we will know when you are telling the truth or not. I hope this is as far as we have to go. You've such a pretty face, it would a shame to ruin it. I will ask you a few test questions before we start."

Friday carefully adjusted her body to ensure that it would fool the polygraph machine. Or at least that was the theory; she'd never done it for real before.

"Is the sky blue?" Major Stern asked cordially.

"Unless it's night, yes," Friday smiled sweetly.

"Please answer yes or no!" Major Stern demanded.

"Yes."

"Is the sea dry?"

"No!"

"Ok, they're nice strong readings. Now here's what will happen! If we are satisfied with your answers you'll get a nice clean cell and a fair trial. If you mess us around we will use increasingly more painful and stressful measures to get what we need," Major Stern explained, his voice showing no sign of threat or menace but of absolute certainty.

"Don't have a lot of choice now do I?" Friday said cheerfully. She thought hard. If she revealed who she really was, even as Friday Carrell of the CIA, then her whole plan would be compromised. Her daughter would die, all the lives lost would have been wasted and the Guild Faction would continue to grow and expand. She refused to let that happen!

"What is your real name?" Major Stern demanded

'Now there's a question!' Friday thought, "My real name is Ms Alexandria Tamsett."

Major Stern fell quiet for a moment, and glanced at the polygraph, not a blip, "So Ms Tamsett who do you work for?"

"America On Line, or AOL," Friday said with a smile.

Major Stern glanced at the polygraph and kicked it away in frustration. It clearly wasn't working. "I really wanted to get this cleared up quickly, never mind," Major Stern walked over to the table and picked up a syringe, and drew 20cc of a clear liquid, "This is Sodium Pentothal. Now, it's by no means perfect but it's a nice stepping stone," he gestured to two of the guards to hold Friday down and she tensed herself waiting for the drug to be injected in her arms.

She felt a slight pinprick and the cold liquid being injected into her veins. Her head went woozy for a few seconds, until she could start to break the compound down. However, she had to act as though it was having an effect, "Enggh," she said as sleepily as she could muster.

"Now, Your name please!" Major Stern demanded

"Alex, Alexandria Tamsett," Friday replied groggily.

"And you work for?"

"AOL," She replied giving Major Stern a cute smile.

"I don't think you realize the seriousness of your situation. You were caught attempting to buy a significant amount of weapons for a known terrorist organization; an organization that only a few months ago launched an attack that killed over half a million of my people, and that very same organization arranged for us to attack a sovereign nation with nuclear weapons!" Major Stern's voice was laced with venom and menace.

"I know," Friday couldn't hide the sadness and regret in her voice.

"So. You do have a heart! If you knew about this, then why work for them! Why endanger more lives, why have more blood on your hands!" Major Stern demanded.

"We're still talking about AOL right?"

"Restrain her!" Major Stern snapped and Friday felt herself being pinned from behind. Two more guards restrained her legs to the chair with leg cuffs.

"Last chance," Major Stern demanded, moving over to the table and collecting a small leather purse. He moved closer to Friday and unrolled it to reveal a set of pliers, scalpels and files. "

"Let's cut the crap. We all know you work for the Guild, or more specifically a certain splinter group of the Guild. Why did you want those weapons?" Major Stern picked up a small file and held it in front of Fridays face.

"Not a clue. Don't I get a lawyer?" Friday stated truthfully.

"Only at your trial prior to execution! Mouth clamp!" Major Stern ordered.

Two men grabbed hold of her face and she struggled to break free as they put a dental clamp in her mouth, making it almost impossible to speak. A thought crossed her mind, what if they decided to do a more thorough examination of her to see why she was holding out so well. If they did that she would really be in the shit. She tried to say "Ok I'll talk, but only a jumble of consonants came out.

"Sorry, you left it a little late to talk. I'm going to slowly file down a couple of teeth just to demonstrate how serious this is for you."

It took three men to hold her face steady as she felt the cold steel of the file start to slowly scrape away the enamel on one of her incisors. Major Stern kept filing away until she felt it touch the nerve of her tooth. She quickly created endorphins to keep the pain at bay, but not before a loud scream came from her mouth.

"Better. Now, what was this Guild Faction planning?"

Friday tried to speak, but the camp held her mouth tight, she shook her head indicating that she didn't know.

"I'm sure you do know, Scalpel!" He ordered and one of the men handed him a clean scalpel.

"I hate to ruin such a pretty face, Hold her!" Friday felt her face being pinned back by the guards once more and saw Major Stern's bearded face come closer.

She tried to remember how she had planned to nullify pain in such situations, but before she could do so, she felt the scalpel dig into the flesh of her face and run an incision down from her forehead to her chin. She had to blink away the blood as it poured into her eyes, and use every ounce of concentration to stop herself from passing out as again and again the scalpel sliced down her face, cutting it to ribbons.

"I'll leave you to bleed for a while and think about cooperating," Major Stern stood up and ordered all the guards out of the room. Clearly he was planning to isolate her, putting psychological pressure on her in addition to physical pain. It was a tried and tested technique.

That gave Friday the breathing space she was looking for. She stopped the bleeding almost straight away and blinked her eyes clear of the blood. She faced a stark choice, either try and kill every guard and person here or be deported back to Israel to face trial.

Did the Guild Faction know about this sting operation? Probably not, as it had cost them 500 million dollars and they couldn't afford to lose that kind of cash.. As she had thought, over confidence was still their biggest weakness. Whatever the outcome, Mossad had deprived the Guild Faction of a great deal of money, and had denied them access to sophisticated weapons.

None of which helped her current situation. She checked her handcuffs and leg restraints as best as she could, she was securely bound but by thinning her wrists out she could get her hands free in seconds. Her ankles were a different matter, it would take a minute or so to get them free. Then she had an idea.

It was hard to focus through the nagging pain of the cuts but she managed to thin her wrists and hands out enough to get them out of the cuffs. As quickly as she could she grew them to normal size once more and using her hands, pulled on the chains on the leg cuffs, damaging them enough, so that one large kick or concentrated pull from each leg would break them. As quickly as she could, she returned her hands back into the cuffs and waited for her chance.

It was clear from Major Stern's attitude that he wouldn't stop until he'd almost killed her. Such was the Israeli's rage at what the old Guild had done to Tel Aviv, they would bend and break every rule to obtain what they needed. If that included torturing a suspected Guild Faction agent then so be it, if they just happened to die in the process then that was unfortunate but necessary. She was sure that she could hold out for significantly longer than anyone else, but that in itself would create suspicion and raise more questions.

She heard the door open and Major Stern walked in along with five guards. "Ah the bleeding has stopped, quicker than I expected but never mind, Remove her mouth clamp," he ordered.

Three of the guards pinned her head back while the other unscrewed the clamp from around her face. Released from its pressure her jaw started to ache like hell and it was a struggle to numb the pain.

"So, ready to talk?" Major Stern asked cordially.

"I don't know anything," Friday's mouth hurt like hell as the exposed nerve in her tooth pressed against her lower gum and the cuts in her face expanded and contracted causing every nerve in her face to scream in protest.

"Hmm. You know what's in the jar?" Major Stern pointed to a small pot of red powder.

Friday glanced towards it, and shook her head.

"Let me tell you, it's a unique blend of refined chilli extract. On contact with normal skin it's enough to cause minor irritation. On contact with an exposed wound I'm told it's like having a million needles stabbed in all at the same time. Here let me show you," He walked over to the jar and opened it as casually as one would a jar of honey. He took a pinch of the red powder, "Hold her!" he ordered and three men instantly pinned Friday's head to the back of the chair.

She knew she had to close her eyes, if any powder got in there it could do some serious damage, but she wasn't prepared for the onslaught of pain as the powder was sprinkled over the deep cuts in her face, no matter how hard she tried to dull the pain she couldn't focus properly. So she did the only thing she could, she screamed as every nerve in her body felt on fire. The pain went on for what seemed like an eternity and somehow she managed not to pass out.

Thru pain dazed eyes she noted the surprise on Major Stern's face. "Your face is a real state, I'll just wash it off for you," he said in a comforting tone of voice.

Friday's initial reaction was to breathe a sigh of relief, but then it came to her. The water would only cause the powder to dissolve and spread the pain deeper and longer, "Please… No" she sobbed.

Clutching a water soaked towel, Major Stern walked closer to her, "Going to tell me what the Guild Faction wanted with the weapons."

Friday shook her head, "Don't know!"

"Wrong answer!" Major Stern draped the soaking towel over her face and gently wiped away the blood.

Friday screamed out in more pain than she had ever felt as the water pushed the now dissolved powder deeper into her. How much longer could she keep this up for, before she acted? No! she told herself, she had to endure!

She hardly felt the towel being removed, but in what seemed like an age the pain subsided and she finally had the chance to numb the nerves in her face and the relief as the pain slowly died away was impossible to hide.

She saw Major Stern stand up and study her as if deep in thought. Clearly she was supposed to have broken or passed out from the pain by now. He walked over to a small bag sitting on the table, but from her position Friday couldn't see what he'd taken out.

She saw him place a small bottle of yellow liquid, 'Fuck fuck fuck!' Friday breathed and the as he walked over to her, holding an empty syringe her worst fears were confirmed.

She tried to struggle and it took the five guards to hold her steady she felt the needle dig into her arm and the blood being taken out of her, "Keep her pinned!" Major Stern ordered.

Thru a gap in the men, she watched in horror as Major Stern dripped a few drops into the jar of yellow liquid. Within seconds it went green.

"FUCK!" she heard Major Stern exclaim. "Guards get away from it, draw your weapons now!"

Instantly the guards withdrew and formed a protective circle around Major Stern, each of them had trained their Colt .45's at her.

"So now you know!" Friday said as casually as she could.

"I knew something was up! We'd been told the Guild may have a changeling still working for them. That explains a great deal!"

Friday thought fast, she needed a distraction, "Since we all know the score. Mind if I do this?" She felt the cuts on her face begin to heal and the ruined tooth start to regrow. As she'd hoped The Guards and Major Stern were so caught up in her healing her face that they didn't notice her hands drop loose from the cuffs. She applied constant but strong pressure to the leg cuffs and with a clink the chains went limp. All she needed now was a proper diversion.

"I should shoot you now, bastard! Your kind caused the deaths of millions!" The hatred came from Major Stern's mouth like bullets.

'It doesn't matter what you say', Friday thought to herself. As soon as that liquid went green its either you die or I do. There was no other possible result, "You're wrong. I'm responsible and me alone. If you're looking for someone to pin the deaths of fourteen million people on then I'm the one. You asked my real name. Do you really want to know?" Friday's voice was deadly quiet and full of implied lethality.

"Yes, tell me." Major Stern demanded.

"My name is Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley, and I'm the last living thing you are ever, ever going to see!" In that instant she sprung up and in one swift movement threw the chair at the guards, they scattered and opened fire, but where Friday had been sitting was now only empty space.

Friday was tempted to spring into action, using her changeling abilities to the fullest, but now it was too much of a risk. If she survived this, then clearly Mossad would put two and two together. She had dived under the table scooping up a scalpel in her left hand. Before the guards had time to re-aim she threw it at the nearest guard and it embedded itself in his eye socket. He collapsed clutching his eye.

As fast as she was, she wasn't fast enough to stop several gunshots from hitting her in the chest and legs. With no time to lose she grabbed the fallen guards .45 and with a single leap and roll fired four rounds into the nearest guard and then into the guard she had thrown the scalpel at.

By this time Major Stern and the other three guards had withdrawn from the room and were obviously waiting for her to come out. Friday healed the four bullet wounds "Damn, they ruined my pants," she commented as two of the bullets had made nice neat holes in her favorite pants. She collected the other guards .45 and quickly formulated a plan. She couldn't wait, as all it would take is a single radio call and her cover would be blown. She doubted she'd even have time to grow any armor. Her only choice was to rush them.

She picked up the chair, and ran towards the door, smashing the door open with it, and as fast as she could she rolled to one side. Instantly the space where she would have been was covered in bullets. But she was on her feet to the other side of the waiting guards. Using a pistol in each hand she fired five rounds into three of the guards, before having to leap out of the way to avoid the counter attack.

The five remaining guards had fled, taking up covering positions towards the exit. Major Stern was nowhere to be seen. Friday felt another bullet impact in the chest, and taking aim with the pistol in her left hand she squeezed the trigger and watched with some satisfaction as her assailant's head exploded as the round struck it clean between the eyes.

She spotted movement in the stair way to her right, one of the guards was clearly setting up an ambush spot, and she heard the clank, clank of something being rolled down the stairs, Grenade!

She sprinted to the bottom of the stairs, just in time to pick the grenade up and throw it back up. It detonated in a cloud of smoke and falling plaster, she heard the thud of a body falling to the ground. Got him, she thought triumphantly.

She felt s stinging sensation on her cheek, a bullet had just grazed her face! Fuck that was close! She span round just in time to see the final guard run out from the building. Firing both pistols she emptied the remains of her ammunition into the fleeing figure. He crumpled to the ground.

She dashed outside, just in time to see Major Stern climbing into a Toyota pick up. Damn he can't be allowed to get away! Sprinting into the room containing the weapons she looked around until she spotted a case containing a Kornet anti tank missile. Ripping it open she hefted it onto her shoulder, checked the arm button was on and ran outside.

By now the Toyota truck was nearly a mile away, but thru the sight of the Kornet it looked much closer. As far as the missile capabilities were concerned it was point blank range. She aligned the laser dot on the cab of the rapidly retreating truck and squeezed the trigger,

It was all she could do to keep her feet as the missile sped away, seeking its target. Seconds later the truck exploded in a huge fireball, "Bye Major," Friday said with a satisfied smile, and dropped the empty missile case back on the ground.

She stayed quiet for a moment, listening out for the Mig's but they had clearly gone back to base. No doubt Major Stern had reckoned ten men were enough to take care of things..

Now all she had to do was cover her tracks here.

She walked back to the 'interrogation room' and tipped the contents of the positive changeling test into the drain. She found a pail to one side and it took several trips to the water tap to make sure that all her blood had been washed away.

Walking around the other side of the building she discovered the tanker they'd used to refuel the Migs, a quick inspection showed it still had several hundred liters of aviation fuel in. An idea struck her.

She walked back to the weapons cache, picked up another Kornet missile, her laptop bag containing all her things, and placed them in the back of one of the remaining pickup trucks. She then walked back to the tanker and unwinding its refueling hose smashed a window and poked it thru.

There was a small lever called 'emergency release', she gave it an experimental tug and noted with satisfaction that the hose went taught as the aviation fuel was dumped out of it.

She ran back to the pickup truck, the Guards had thoughtfully left the keys in, probably figuring they'd need to use it in case of a quick getaway. The engine started up first time and within moments she was speeding away from the building.
The Tachometer showed she had driven just under 5km from the building, that should be far enough away and yet was comfortably under the Kornet's maximum range of 5.5km.

She carefully set the missile up on its attached tripod and carefully aligned the sight with that of the window where the tankers hose was. Once she was certain that her aim was true, she squeezed the trigger and the truck rocked back as the recoil rammed the tripod backwards. Ten seconds later there was a huge explosion as the building erupted in a deafening explosion that reverberated around the plain. She tossed the empty missile case and tripod over the side of the truck, collected the laptop back and got back inside the truck.

Friday wasn't foolish enough to head back just yet. The explosion that had seemed to rock the very soil was just the aviation fuel going up. She jumped into the truck and sped away as fast as she could. A minute later nearly a hundred metric tons of explosives blew up, throwing debris high into the air and creating a fireball that could been seen from several miles.

Friday didn't even glance back. She needed to be well away before the authorities turned up. She did know one thing, no one could now ever know she had ever been there, that and the Guild Faction were now 500 million dollars worse off and had nothing to show for it, but a large crater in the ground. It was a thought that almost made ruining her favorite pants worthwhile.

--- oo ---

"Are you ok Miss?" The flight attendant touched Friday on the shoulder.

Friday brushed away the tear, and nodded, "How long to go?"

"We land in Washington in just under three hours. Do you need anything?"

"No thanks, actually yes I will come to think of it. I could do with some water," Friday requested.

"I'll just go get it," The flight attendant offered and walked off.

Friday had spent the last twelve hours telling herself that she had no choice over her actions at the arms sale. She knew what she was feeling, denial, denial that she had just killed eleven men whose deaths may well have been avoidable and denial that she had made a terrible mistake.

'No' she reminded herself, there was no other way. If she had told them she was CIA, then they would have done a check. That would have done two things. Firstly the check would have been recorded and Heinlein would want to know why she was in Syria and not tucked up at home. Secondly she had no payroll number, no CIA record or even no agent ID. The check would have failed and Major Stern would have concluded that she was lying. If she had claimed to be working against the Guild Faction, the major would have demanded proof, and she had none to give.

She still would have been tortured, but instead of getting clean away she would be mortal danger as soon as she landed in DC. Should she have revealed her changeling abilities as proof as her intent? As far as the major knew, the only changelings there had been belonged his enemies. He would have filed the report, and the resulting political storm would cause Israel to promptly rip up the new treaty they'd just signed and start the war she'd worked so hard for them to avoid.

Try as she might, no other scenario worked. As soon as they captured her, then their fates were sealed.

"Here's your water miss," The flight attendant had returned with a bottle of Evian and a plastic cup.

"Thanks," Friday replied taking the bottle and opening it.

The real thought preying on her mind was whether she should have taken the mission in the first place? Was her daughter's life worth so many innocent lives? Was she really damaging the Guild Faction and bringing herself closer to taking them down or was it just an excuse she told herself to hide her selfishness?

She took a sip of water, and took stock. Omar would die in a little over 3 months, with the power vacuum in the Middle East left by his demise it would be easy for the legitimate Guild to walk in and pick the pieces up. Her actions with the ambassador had caused the US and Saudi Arabia to work ever closer together. News that the ambassador had not only survived a Guild Faction assassination attempt, but that the Guild Faction had been duped by it would cause a massive loss of credibility and cause the new recruits, so eager for glory and success to abandon it in droves.

She couldn't really take the credit for denying the Guild Faction's access to the heavy weapons, but she had just cost them 500 million dollars, money which they could probably ill afford to lose. All she needed to do was get an opportunity to get close to the Guild Faction leadership, and her instincts told her she was getting very near to that day. So far every mission they had sent her on had the hint of desperation about it, especially this one. If they had had anyone else to send they would have done so. You don't normally send someone with her abilities on a shopping trip, especially if they don't really know about the weapon systems involved. As she had deduced earlier if the Guild Faction wanted her captured or killed there were cheaper and simpler ways of doing so.

So, where did that leave the Guild Faction? For sure, they were now short on heavy weapons, money and resources and in a few months time the coup de grace would be delivered in the form of Omar's death and the revelation of the magnitude of their failure to kill the Saudi Ambassador.

The thing that bothered her, was that they must have recruited her for a reason. Any very good Guild agent could have done what she did, so either they were critically short on manpower, which was not impossible or they had a single big play in mind. One last desperate throw of the dice in which to take back power from the UN backed Guild and avenge their defeat a few months ago.

Maybe the Mig fighter bombers were part of that plan, but that didn't need her to pull off, just a lot of money and good planning. What else could they be after to warrant the risk of blackmailing her into helping them?

Revenge certainly, they must know she detested working towards rebuilding their organization again, but getting back at her and even Matthew, Kat and Cathline wouldn't be enough. For sure some might celebrate, but not enough to make a difference.

The only play they could possibly make was to use her to either steal something of such magnitude it would send political and military shockwaves around the planet, or kill one or more world leaders.

The only item that would do that would be some kind of nuclear weapon and by now all the world leaders, including that of the UN led Guild were too well protected. Governments were too paranoid about changeling infiltration to enable her to slip thru the layers upon layers of security. So what in hell was their big play going to be?

She was also under no illusion that they would not let her daughter live, if as she strongly suspected part of the motivation for using her was revenge they wouldn't show her or those they held a blood feud against any mercy at all. She'd had to go along with them, because every time she did, she bought her daughter and herself a little more time. It was now a desperate sprint to the finish and whoever won, would be the one still alive. Her main concern was that she was relying on there being a flaw in the missions she was given to allow her room to prevent it from giving the Guild Faction what they wanted. They had the initiative, not her and that was a poor position to be in. Unless she knew in advance what the missions were then she had little choice in the matter.

One thing was for certain, she'd make damn sure she hadn't killed those Mossad agents for nothing!

--- oo ---

Friday landed at Dulles and after collecting her single item of hand luggage from the overhead locker, walked to the cab rank and waited. As soon as she had placed her bag on the floor, a yellow cab pulled up and the driver beckoned her inside.

"What went wrong!" the driver snarled.

"Sorry?" Friday said puzzled.

"Dr Bexley, what went wrong! We were expecting the weapons to be loaded onto a cargo vessel and they didn't arrive!" The driver could barely contain his anger.

The cab was taking her away from her house, "You were set up. Mossad were there waiting for me," Friday stated bitterly.

"And yet you still transferred the money!" The driver snapped.

"My instructions were to transfer the money once I was sure everything was legitimate. Hassan gave me a convincing demonstration that the Mig's were in full working order, and allowed me to inspect every bullet and missile you had ordered. If your intelligence was better it would have saved me a lot of hassle!" Friday accused.

"What action did you take!" The driver demanded.

"What action could I take after they started to torture me for information? I killed them, I had no choice?" Friday spat bitterly.

"And what proof do I have that you are telling me the truth!" The driver demanded.

"Pull into that parking lot, and I'll show you!" Friday ordered

A few seconds later the driver pulled over, twisted around to face her and pointed a silenced SR-2 at her head.

Friday rummaged around in her bag and pulled out her black T shirt and ruined pants.

"Look!" She said poking a finger thru a ragged hole in the leather pants, "bullet holes and you can see the blood around them where the bullets hit. See it's ruined them!"

"Hmm," The driver said inspecting the holes in the pants and also the copious amount of dried blood on her T Shirt, "We will perform our own investigations. What were the Mossad agents names?"

"I only heard the one, A Major Joshua Stern. The others names I didn't catch. I doubt if you'll find anything recognizable. I didn't realize that a hundred odd tons of explosives made such a mess, as for Major Stern the last thing he saw was a Kornet Anti Tank missile in his rearview mirror."

The driver turned round and started to head off in the direction of her house, "We will be in touch regarding this matter."

Friday sat back in the seat and smiled, 'Don't take too long,' she thought to herself. In the race to live, she planned to be the victor.

"Can we keep your clothes for analysis? We need to verify that the blood is indeed yours and also that the shape and size of the holes match those of the likely weapons used," the driver said. It was more of an order than a request.

"Sure, they're ruined anyway," Friday said handing them over. It was unlikely, verging on the impossible they could do anything with the blood on them, other than test that it belonged to her, and for sure it would help clear her name.

Half an hour later the cab dropped her off home, and she headed straight for the shower. She still had to plan for school tomorrow and then there was the matter of Steve to consider. Dare she allow herself to love him? Dare she let him past the layers and layers of defenses she'd built up around her heart. There was only one way to find out.

30. Resurrection.
--------------------

Her first day back at school rushed past, when she got back home Steve would be there waiting for her return. It took all her self control not to speed home, to see if he was there.

She unlocked the door and her heart leapt as he saw Steve's coat back in its rightful place, "Steve you back?" She called out.

"Sure, miss me!" Steve's voice came from the kitchen.

"You bet!" Friday walked into the kitchen, put her arms around Steve and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Friday wished she could stay there. After what she'd just been thru Steve's embrace was like an Oasis of peace and harmony.

"Now this is the kind of welcome home I like," He smiled.

"Let's eat out, we need to talk," Friday let go of Steve and gestured to towards the car.

"I'm not sure I like this, What's up?" Steve asked.

"You drive," she said picking up the car keys from the worktop and tossing them to Steve.

He deftly caught them one handed, "Where to?

"Just drive around. We need to talk," Friday turned around and walked to the front door, "Coming?"

Steve had followed her, "Sure."

Steve climbed into the driver's seat, and Friday got in the passenger side. Steve glanced across at Friday and started the car.

"Any particular direction?" He asked, the curiosity clear in his voice.

"Nope. Your pick," Friday directed and fell silent until they were out of their street. A few minutes later Friday reached out and flicked the CD Player on.

"So what's this about?" Steve asked as he made a left turn towards downtown.

"How can you see into my eyes like open doors?
Leading you down into my core
Where I've become so numb

Without a soul
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home"

"It's about us. Where we're going, and about what I felt when down at your folks," Friday replied over the lyrics of the song."

"What about it. Friday, if I overstepped the mark…"

"[wake me up] Wake me up inside
[I cant wake up] Wake me up inside
[Save me] Call my name and save me from the dark"

"NO! God no. It awakened things in me that I thought had died long ago," Friday looked across at Steve's face. So cute, so full of love she thought.

"Wake me up] Bid my blood to run
[I can't wake up] Before I come undone
[Save me] Save me from the nothing I've become

"Such as?" Steve turned to Friday, his whole face full of expectation.

"Now that I know what I'm without
You cant just leave me
Breathe into me and {make me real}
Bring me
To life"

"I.. I never thought I could love again," Friday replied tearfully and turned to look outside. Not daring to look at Steve in case he rejected her.

"[wake me up] Wake me up inside
[I can't wake up] Wake me up inside
[Save me] Call my name and save me from the dark
[Wake me up] Bid my blood to run
[I can't wake up] Before I come undone
[Save me] Save me from the nothing I've become

{Bring me to life}
[I've been living a lie.. There's nothing inside]
{Bring me to life}"

"Friday, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that!?" Steve replied hardly daring to speak.

"Frozen inside without your touch
Without your love, darling
Only you are the life among the dead"

Friday nodded, "Steve, I've spent so long being fucked up inside but I do know one thing. I want to give this, give us a go." There said it! She could feel her heart pounding against her chest. What would Steve say?

Steve remained silent, but from the look on his face Friday could see he was struggling to retain control of his emotions.

"[All of this time, I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me]

I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything"

"Friday, ever since I saw you in the jungle in Korea I've wanted you, to be with you!" Steve voice was so full of love and the desire for her that she felt as though she could listen to it all night and maybe the rest of life.

"[Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul]
{Don't let me die here}{There must be something more}
Bring me to life"

"Steve, don't say that unless you mean it!" she sobbed.

"[wake me up] Wake me up inside
[I cant wake up] Wake me up inside
[Save me] Call my name and save me from the dark
[Wake me up] Bid my blood to run
[I can't wake up] Before I come undone
[Save me] Save me from the nothing I've become"

"I've never been more serious in my life, I'm here for you!"

Friday waited till the song ended. She needed the time to compose herself. This was a huge step for her, for both of them!

"Bring me to life
[I've been living a lie.. There's nothing inside]
Bring me to life
I've been living a lie
There's nothing inside.

Bring me to life"

"You… really want to be with me?" She sniffled.

Steve pulled the car over to the side of the road and switched off the engine. He undid his seatbelt and took her by the hands, "I've never been so sure of anything in my life. We started off as pretending to be husband and wife, but as time went on I found myself wishing you were my real wife. I knew I'd fallen in love with you months ago, but because of what happened to Jane I daren't let myself go in case the same happened to you, or even to me. It's hard both living in fear and yet in hope!"

"I understand. To be honest I'm not sure I'm ready to marry or even get engaged, but what I do know is that I want to be with you. We're in risky business for sure and death may come at any moment but there's in an element of risk whatever job we have. I don't give myself easily or freely, and there's one last test you must pass to win my hand," Friday said with smile.

"Yes my dear lady, anything!" Steve replied as if he was she was his queen and he her champion.

"Don't agree until you know what it is!" Friday stated. Would Steve agree to the 'trial' she had devised?

"I don't see any dragons, or monsters to slay," Steve said looking around.

"Only the one sitting in front of you, Drive me back home, your monster awaits!"

Steve gave Friday a 'what the fuck?" look and started the engine.

"So what is it you want me to do?" He asked intrigued.

"Not until we're home," Friday fell silent the rest of the way back, ignoring Steve's queries.

Friday unlocked the door and left it ajar for Steve to follow. She walked into the living room, drew the curtains ensuring no one could look inside. That complete she sat down on the sofa and waited.

A minute or so later Steve entered the room, gave a look around and on seeing nothing out of the ordinary sat down on the chair opposite where Friday was sitting, "So what is it you want me to do?"

"These last months you have seen what I wanted you to see. I've kept who I really am wrapped up safe and sound in this," Friday gestured to her body, "wrapping."

She paused for a few moments, "You are one of only four people who know that I, Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley am still alive. I need you to prove to me that it's the real me you claim you've fallen in love with. Not Friday Carrell or any of my other identities. Even now I see the unease in your eyes and it makes me wonder if that is indeed the case."

"I'm just wondering where you are going with all this?" Steve said a little defensively.

"You might think that on the surface I'm a compassionate and caring person, and that I've put the darkness behind me. I'm telling you, and only you that that is not true. The evil that caused the deaths and pain of so many is still in me. It's part of me. Instead of driving it out I have been embracing it, letting it feed me, strengthen me and give me the edge I need to survive. I lied to you when I said I wanted a change in hair color and image. The reality is, is that in embracing the evil it changed me, and not the other way around," Friday said looking Steve right in the eye. His face showed a little fear and apprehension, and that she decided was a good thing.

"Darkness? Evil. What are you talking about?" Steve queried.

"I mean the person the CIA think I am, isn't really who I am. You wanted to know where the monster was?"

Friday felt her flesh reform as her black hair retracted back into her skull and was replaced by a tumbling auburn mass, her cheek bones reshaped to become slightly rounder and she had to close her eyes as she felt them turn from blue to a blue/gray color. Changes rippled downwards from her head as she grew 2 inches in height. Thirty seconds later she opened her eyes to see Steve looking at her in a mixture of shock and horror.

"This is your monster. This is the body I was born with, this, " She gestured to her Dr Elizabeth Bexley face, "this is the face that terrorized an entire planet, these, " she lifted up her hands, complete with long delicate fingers, "are the hands that fashioned weapons that killed millions," Friday stood up to her full 5'10 and gestured down her beautiful form, "and this is who I really am. Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley, death incarnate; the destroyer of worlds. You claim to love me! You claim that you want me to be with you. Before that can happen I need to know, have to know that you mean it."

"Oh Come on Friday, enough theatrics! I know who you really are!" Steve snapped.

"If that's the case, then come here and kiss me. Prove to me that this face doesn't bother you. This is the face that caused you to be imprisoned for two years. If there was no me, you'd have been free! This is the face that has been shown around the world as the embodiment of evil and violence. If you are in love with me, the real me you'll get off of that chair and kiss me!"

"I told you before I love you because you're you. Our first time together I told you I didn't want you to do any changeling stuff. Surely that proves it!" Steve was sounding a little annoyed.

"Yes. It proved you could make love to someone you could pretend wasn't a killer, or who's actions caused you to be tortured and beaten. If you really love me, you will make love to who I really am, and here's the final catch. I want you make love to me in the way I demand. I need to take you to the depths of my dark heart, and if you still want to be with me after that, then I will know your love for me is true."

"And if I refuse?" Steve replied quietly.

"Then we go back to how we were before, no hard feelings. I refuse to be jilted or betrayed a second time! Give yourself to me, totally, utterly without fear or question and you'll have proven your love for me. So, will you face your monster or will you run away and hide! I'll be hurt and disappointed, but we both need to be sure and ending this now will save us both a lot of heartache later. So what do you say?"

Friday almost saw the flood of questions flow thru Steve's mind. Clearly he was examining his own feelings and motivations towards her. That was good. After a few seconds Steve stood up and walked towards her.

"In my experience there is only one way of dealing with Monsters of this type," He stated, studying the familiar and infamous lines of her face.

"And that is," Friday hardly dared reply.

Steve's reply was to pull her closer and passionately kiss her.

Friday responded as passionately, wrapping her arms around his neck and crushing his face into hers, but her mind was working the whole time.  This is a question of acceptance and trust, she was telling herself, absolute and unquestioning.  I need to know he accepts everything I am and can be, and can entrust everything he is and cares about to me before I can ever fully trust yield to him.  And oh, I do so want to!  I do care so for him.  I do want to love him!  But I need to know that he loves me!

And that means, she realized, he will not have an easy night tonight.  He claims he can love a monster.  Well, we'll see.

Already she felt a faint jolt in the old familiar fault line in her personality.  Friday loved this man, wanted to love him, wanted to endow him with herself body and mind and soul, and accept him completely.  But another part of her, the person she now resembled, Elizabeth wasn't that sure about any man.  She'd been jilted once, cruelly.  And that had unleashed unspeakable horror on the world.  Her Stelazine kept the malicious, sometimes savage Lizzy in her quiescent state, kept Friday in charge.   But Elizabeth is who I am, she told herself, and Elizabeth is who will make love to him tonight, not Friday.

Inside herself, she could feel Lizzy quietly gloating.  You stay where you are, Friday told her.  I want to love this man.  I don't want harm to come to him.

"Who said anything about harm?" Lizzy asked.  Her voice was quite clear.  "And besides, you decided not to be Friday for this evening, I didn't.  I don't see Friday anywhere in the vicinity now.  I see only poor hurt little Elizabeth."

That was true.  Was it honesty or only self-pity that compelled her to reveal her monstrosity to this man?  As if to blot out that thought, Elizabeth pushed her tongue into Steve's mouth.  He seemed to resist it for a moment, men are the ones who penetrate intimate spaces, he probably thought, not women.  But then to her great satisfaction, he admitted it into himself and even closed his lips around it, clasping it and sucking it further in.  Good, she thought. This will be fun.

They broke off at last, and Elizabeth slowly withdrew her tongue back into her mouth, with a last provocative lick of her lips, while Steve watched.  "You asked me earlier what it was I want you to do," Elizabeth said to Steve a little breathlessly.

"I did," Steve said, his voice still uncertain.

"Anything I want you to do."

"OK," Steve responded.  Even that response sounded like a question.

"Come on."

They walked into their bedroom.  Elizabeth went over to Steve's closet, opened it, and stared at the tie rack he'd fastened to the inside of the closet door.  Steve was an open-neck man basically, but he was also a suit.  He had a drawer full of professionally laundered and starched shirts he hated to wear, and he kept a considerable array of ties on his tie rack for the various kinds of occasions calling for them -- ruling-class rep, authoritatively regimental, dully non-descript, properly formal, earnestly sincere, and a splashy tie his parents had sent him once as a message to lighten up a little.

She took down a handful at random, and peeled off half of them, holding them out to him.   "Here," she said.

Steve looked at them, then at her.  "What's that for?" he asked.  He was trying to sound jocular, but it didn't work.  This was not the Friday he knew.  It wasn't Friday at all.  Well, not altogether, anyhow.

"I want you to strip yourself naked."

"Well, that sounds promising!"

"And then tie yourself to the bed, our bed, face up, spread-eagled.  I'll fasten the last knot when you've done your ankles and one hand and you're almost helpless.  And you'll let me."

"Friday ... Elizabeth!  I told you!  I can't!  I told you what happened in that prison camp.  I'd go crazy.  And then I'd be afraid for what I'd do to you when you released me."  There was real fear in his voice, the beginnings of uncontrollable panic.

"Perfect," Lizzy told Elizabeth.  "Keep going!"

"That's why I want you to do just that," Elizabeth told him.  "I need to know you trust me absolutely.  And this is the only way I can know that."

"You mean, you want to know that at least once in this romance of ours you've dominated me absolutely," Steve said thoughtfully but still warily. "That I've been completely at your mercy.  That I've been willing to submit to these demons of yours.  You need that before you can surrender yourself to me."

"I want us to surrender to each other.  You first."

"All right."

"Call me 'Elizabeth'!"

"All right, Elizabeth," Steve said.  And he quickly stripped himself.

Elizabeth had seen his body before, and run her hands over and over it repeatedly, slim, muscular, hardened by the privations of imprisonment, to her beautiful.  She admired it yet again.  He looked at her inquiringly.  She saw that his penis was dangling against his balls, his balls hanging slack between his legs.  He doesn't find this exciting at all, she thought with some satisfaction.  But I do. She looked back up into his eyes, her expression carefully neutral, and said nothing, just waited.

Steve sat down, took a tie without looking at it, fastened it to a projection on the bed's footboard with a swift bowline, and then snugged it to his ankle with a clove hitch.

"You've been a sailor?" Elizabeth asked.  Not to hear the answer, but to hear his tone of voice.  This had to be stressful for him.

"A Boy Scout," Steve replied.  His voice was low, tense, worried.

"Call me Elizabeth whenever you speak to me!"

"Why not tell him to call you Lizzy?" Lizzy asked Elizabeth in her head.  "Let me do this!  I'd love to take charge of him when he's helpless.  To listen to him plead when I ...."

"No!" Elizabeth said to her, still in her head.  "I love this man.  I want to love him.  I want no harm to come to him!"

"Do you?" Lizzy replied.  "Are you sure?"

"I was a Boy Scout, Elizabeth," Steve replied, unaware of the dialogue taking place in Elizabeth's head.  "But I've done some sailing on the Chesapeake, like many people stationed in Washington who need to get away now and then during the muggy summer days," He seemed to be talking nervously, saying more than he needed to in an effort to control dark fears within.

"That clove hitch is too easily shaken loose," Elizabeth said.  "We both know that.  Belay it and use something really secure."  Let him think I know what I'm talking about, she said to herself with a grim smirk.  The words had come back to her from her childhood exposure to daddy's yacht.
          
Steve glanced at her, did as she asked, then positioned his other ankle and tied it down as well.  He fastened one of his ties to each of his wrists and then lay down on his back.  "This bed's headboard has nothing I can throw a loop over," he said.  "You'll have to tie the other ends of these ties to the spindles yourself."  He paused, then added, "Elizabeth."

This was fun.  It was so admirable of Steve that he was doing this for her.  She was impressed, even awed, knowing what it was costing him.  And exultant, too.  Maybe at this moment she loved him more than ever.  Because she didn't feel helpless before the emotion, she felt in charge of it!

"Ask me to do that, Steve."

Was that a gleam of exasperation in his eyes?  Of desperation?  Of surrender? 

"Tie my wrists, Elizabeth."

"Please."

"Please tie my wrists to the headboard, Elizabeth."

"Both of them?"  Now Elizabeth really was taunting him.  It hurt her, part of her, to do this to him, but she knew it had to be done.  And she couldn't deny it, the Lizzy in her was enjoying all of it.

"Because?"

"Because you want me to be helpless while you work your wiles on me!"

Steve was trying to joke, struggling for control of the situation.  But he's lost it already!

Coldly, Elizabeth replied, "Wrong answer!  And who are you speaking to?  Try again!"

"Because I want whatever you want, Elizabeth.  Please tie me up."  Now he sounded genuinely humble, though still puzzled.

She did, using a knot her father had taught her when she was a little girl. He'd taken her fishing, and watched amused as she found that all her knots slipped right through when she tried using them on monofilament fishing line.  

"You need special knots that tighten against themselves when the line's stretched, "he'd told her.  "You need to make the line defeat itself when it tries to slide out from under itself.  See?"

That's what I need, she thought with a sad irony as she deftly secured both his wrists and checked his ankles.  However the knots were still too loose for her satisfaction, so she pulled as hard as she could until she could see skin on his start to change color. Ties that bind by defeating themselves.  The story of my life.  To think that I was once an innocent little girl.  Well, not now.                                         

"Tighter," Lizzy urged, "Cut his blood flow off!"

"No!"

"All snug?" she asked him when she saw he was immobile.  Was his penis stirring a little?  Yes, it was.  She smiled to herself.

"Yes," he said.  He was having difficulty catching his breath.  "Yes, Elizabeth."

"And what do you say, now that I've done what you asked me to do?"

Steve paused, breathing deeply several times, until he seemed easier.  He glanced at her as if to ask an exasperated "What more do you want?  How much more do you want?"  But what came out of his mouth was "Thank you, Elizabeth."

"You're welcome," Elizabeth replied, relishing his subjection, pitying it, and feeling so terribly grateful for it, all at once.

"I know" came out of Steve's mouth before he could stop it. 

He was still assertive?  Insubordination?  "Where's your gun," Elizabeth impulsively asked the supine, helpless, exposed, naked man in front of her.

There came a long, thoughtful pause.  Then a hesitant reply.  "You know where I keep it.  In its armpit holster."  He paused again, and saw what might have been a gleam of fury in Elizabeth's eyes at what might seem to her an obvious evasion.  "In my top right bureau drawer, you've seen me put it there every time I get home.  And you've seen me take it from there every morning."  He paused, then said almost placatingly, Elizabeth."

"Enough of this nonsense," Lizzy told Elizabeth.  "Put him down right now, a single headshot would do it!"

Without replying to her alter ego, Elizabeth went to Steve's bureau and took his .45 caliber pistol out of the drawer, then out of its holster, and hefted it with her finger alongside the trigger guard.  A heavy caliber for a handgun, she was thinking.  Small entry wound, but coming out it leaves a hole you could throw your hat through.  She'd seen enough bullet wounds in ER to know that it made a real mess and not easily fixable.  This one has a special silencer though, she reminded herself.  "35 db reduction of muzzle report," came to mind.  She knew without looking that Steve was watching her more intently than he had ever watched anything in his life.  He was deathly silent now.  No more joking.

She walked over to the bed and stood over him, holding the weapon in her right hand, aimed for the moment at the floor.  "What is it they tell you on the firing range?" she asked him.  "'Make sure of your target.'  That's what the say over and over, don't they?"

He didn't answer her.  She didn't expect an answer.  He was still staring at her face, trying to read it.

"Well, that's what I'm doing."

She lifted her arm, and watched Steve's eyes widen, then close, open again, blink, then just stare some more at her.  He still said nothing.  He knew he was utterly helpless before her, what was there to say?  It must have been like this for him in that North Korean prison.  She hated to do this to him, but she had no choice.

And then she placed it carefully on the nightstand at the head of the bed, handle toward her, the barrel aimed neatly to where his head was.

"I want you to know I have this handy," Elizabeth said in measured tones.  And waited for what was now his mantra of subjection.

"Yes, Elizabeth."

"Because now I'm going to blindfold you so you won't know what I'm doing with it from now on, will you, whether I'm holding it and about to pull the trigger or not.  Will you?"

"No, Elizabeth."  His voice came from a place deep within himself.  Resigned? 
 
"Every single second, for the rest of tonight, could be your last second on earth.  And you know that now.  Right now you are looking at Dr. Elizabeth Bexley. I want you to know that every second from now on, my face could be the last face you'll ever see.  That at any moment I can blow your head off."

She waited for an answer.  None came.  Steve seemed to have retreated to a place she couldn't reach.

"And you don't know what I'm intending, not at all, do you?"   

"Go on, put a bullet in him! In both lungs, just so he lives long enough for you to fuck him as he dies!" Lizzy urged again.

Silence.  She used the interval to blindfold him, three wadded up ties secured with a fourth.  She was sure that now he could see nothing at all.

"What do you want me to do now, Steve?"

"Tell him you want to give him a blow job," Lizzy broke in excitedly.  "And begin by doing just that!  Then when his prick is stiff and pulsing with blood, bite it off!  See how high you can make him spurt blood out of it for once! Then give him a nice girlie pussy, go on you know we prefer women!"

Elizabeth paid her no attention, but repeated her question to Steve.  "What do you want me to do?"

Not desperately or despairingly, not submissively either, but in a voice she could scarcely recognize as Steve's, with a intensity of feeling and yet serenity that came to her ears as the voice of love itself Steve replied, "I want what you want, Elizabeth!  I want whatever you want!  I love you.  I want you to do whatever you want."

"Anything?" she asked, astonished at what she'd heard.

"Anything!"  She listened closely.  His breathing was regular.  He wasn't sobbing.  "Anything at all, Elizabeth.  Anything."

He was altogether hers!

"You've got him!" Lizzy screamed.  "Kill him!  Fuck him good and then splatter his brains!"

Instead, Elizabeth leaned over to kiss his mouth.  "What I want to do right now," she told him, "is fuck your brains out.  All night long."

When she looked down, she saw that he was fully erect and ready.  He did trust her!  He did love her!  And despite everything she'd done to him he desired her!  That was the ultimate test!  She was practically weeping as she mounted her man.  I once promised him no morphing when we make love, she was thinking to herself, but he'll never know if I make a slight adjustment.  And as she sank herself down on him she grew three new bands of muscles along the length of her vagina, each able to spasm independently, the better to milk him with whenever she orgasmed.

"I need you to see this," she remarked and gently lifted the blindfold from over his head.

Friday leant back and pushed herself into him, feeling his dick go deep inside her. Using her legs she pushed up slightly and then lowered herself down onto him, using her new muscles to play him, tease him, use him!

She knew the moment she had waited for was close from how his eyes looked at her, pleaded with her to make him come. She lifted herself almost off him, and put her left hand behind her back. Out of his sight she turned it into a six in long killing blade.

"Go on, he'll only betray you!" Lizzy's voice was now more urgent.

She drove the killing blade downwards, towards Steve's throat and his eyes went wide with fear. She felt her weight shift on him, in order for the blow to deliver the maximum killing power.

"Lizzy NO!" Elizabeth shouted, a hint of desperation in her voice. This was going too far!.

At the last second, it narrowly missed his throat and sliced an inch long gash along his neck.

Steve cried out in pain and blood spat from his open neck wound. Almost at the point of orgasm herself, it was then she decided to finally allow him to come. As the blood ran down his neck her frenzy grew and the rhythmic spasming in her vagina reached a crescendo.  She moved furiously up and down until his cock stiffened, swollen past retrieval.  Then he spasmed.  And as he throbbed into her she orgasmed, exulting, her vagina filling with his pearly semen and her vision fulfilled by the sight of his red blood running down his neck.

"Now you'll always bear my mark. But don't worry it's not over yet! We've still the gun to use!" Still on top of him, she reached up and slipped the blindfold over his eyes once more. She felt his fear now, it was rising towards the surface almost extinguishing his sexual desire for her, and that was just how she wanted him!

Toward daylight she realized she hadn't gagged him as she'd originally intended, so overcome had she been by the intensity and sincerity of his declaration to her that in effect he loved her more than his own life.  It was just as well -- she'd spent half the night kissing him, especially around his open neck wound such that his blood had given her lips a red hue, but not only on his face, everywhere while waiting for him to recover between climaxes.  But he hadn't said a word since uttering that magnificent statement "Anything at all!"

Lizzy made one more attempt to take charge.  "Look at his eyes, now!  He's used you.  He's tricked you.  You'll see!"

"It's time I took off his blindfold anyhow," Elizabeth said to her.  "And took that gun away from here!"

"Do that!" Lizzy said.  "Do that!"  And managed to exert just enough control over Elizabeth's arms and fingers so that the blindfold came away from Steve's eyes in one hand at the very moment Elizabeth was holding his gun with the other.  And it was pointed straight at his forehead.

Steve saw, and blinked several times.  And for a split second seemed to tense up.  He must have thought this was indeed his last moment on earth.  But then all he did was say calmly, "Was I that bad a lover?  I'm better when I'm untied.  Maybe I can improve with practice?"

The gun clattered to the floor.  Elizabeth was startled, how in hell had that got in her hand? But she felt reassured when it flashed through her mind that she'd never taken the safety off, it had been on the whole time, a precaution in case control lapsed to Lizzy as it so nearly fatally had!  She fell on Steve and smothered him with kisses, declaring over and over "All the practice you want, lover, for as long as you want, forever, if that's what you want!"

She was still crying tears of joy as she released Steve from his bondage.  Those monofilament knots on his silk ties refused to budge -- she had to cut them off with a small blade she'd grown instead of a finger.  "When we really get married," Steve said.  "if we ever do, I'd like Friday to be a bridesmaid."

"Friday will have to be the bride, darling," Elizabeth said, her face tear-drenched but radiant.  "It seems that I'm fated to be forever the bridesmaid, never the bride."

"As long as you're there, that's all I want," said Steve.  And for the first time since they'd entered the bedroom, he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, ardently.  She felt his tongue enter her mouth, and loved it.  And surrendered to him yet again.

--- oo ---

"Does it show?" Steve asked Friday and pointed to the bandage on his neck where her blade had so nearly killed him.

"Only if you take your jacket off, if any one asks at the office just say you were doing some repairs and you had an accident," The vision of Lizzy nearly killing Steve whilst in a sexual frenzy was still as clear, terrifying and alluring as it had been a day ago.

Steve for his part had been strangely relaxed about it. He assured her it didn't matter, that he loved her and that his neck wound would heal in a week or so.

Friday watched him leave for the office, she felt happier than she had for years. She checked her watch, she was running late and she had her favorite class first thing.

--- oo ---

Friday had been home an hour when she heard Steve call her for help from the hallway. He was standing in the doorway, laden down with shopping. "Need a hand?" Friday asked.

Steve just waggled a bag to indicate he did. Friday then relieved him of three heavy bags and placed them on the kitchen table.

Steve joined her, "Plenty more in the car!" He commented.

Two armloads later shopping was strewn all over the work surfaces as Friday passed Steve the groceries.

"Yumm my favorite!" Friday exclaimed sarcastically holding up a can of tinned lentils.

Steve signed, "Rats! Must have been some kids I passed. They were dropping all kinds of things in people's trolleys. I thought I'd got away with it. Just put it on the top shelf of the pantry and I'll take it back tomorrow. That reminds me, I bought us a present. Look in the bag just under the chair!"

Friday took one look inside and laughed, "A lava lamp. Groovy man!"

Steve chuckled, "I used to love them as a kid, that and the fiber optic plant things. I thought it'd be nice on the shelf above the TV."

"If you say so," Friday teased and went back to putting the groceries away.

31. And All My Dreams Torn Asunder.
------------------------------------------------

Steve's side of the bed was empty when Friday got up to go to school. Steve must have been paged during the night and had to go off to God knows where. She chose her white blouse, and red ochre skirt and matching black heeled shoes. Today she had a meeting with a kid's parents to inform them that he had been falling behind in his work and needed to get better grades. It was a meeting she wasn't looking forward to and had no point of reference. She'd never had a poor grade in her life.

Picking up her briefcase and placing it into the passenger foot well, she drove to school hoping that the traffic would be forgiving on a cold and frosty December morning.

She arrived at school some 30 minutes later, and drove around the school's parking lot looking for a space, finding none she was forced to park a block away in an overflow parking lot. She'd been forced to do that a couple of times, and she didn't mind that much, the walk would do her good. She switched the engine off, retrieved her briefcase and got out of the car. From the corner of her eye she noticed a glint of light from a window in the building to her right. She felt something slam into her shoulder, and it all went black.

--- oo ---

When Friday finally managed to open her eyes, it took a while for her vision to reach some form of clarity, more than that she felt strange, as if her whole body was on a knife edge. The only way she could explain it to herself was think of herself as a water drop, being held together only by the surface tension. Precarious was a better word. She felt movement and heard sirens, she was in an ambulance and her left arm hurt like hell. She still didn't feel up to sitting yet though.

"It's good to see you awake Dr Bexley," the paramedic said, and adjusted the drip that was feeding into her arm. The paramedic looked oddly familiar.

"Who?" Friday asked woozily. Her vision cleared a little more and it was then she recognized him. It was the Guild Faction! They had kidnapped her!

"Please don't use your changeling organ to repair the bullet wound. It would have unfortunate consequences. But we'll get to that later. Are you alert enough to talk and understand?" The Guild agent asked.

Friday nodded, her head was clearing. What in hell did he mean 'unfortunate consequences'?

"We extracted the bullet from you while you were unconscious, I thought you might like to see it," The Guild Faction agent reached behind him and took out a kidney bowl and showed it to her.

"Fuck!" Inside the bowl was the special bullet they had lost after their building was bombed. Its transparent plastic casing was split and it was clear whatever was inside it, was now inside her! The reasons why they had chosen to not to kill Heinlein in the bombing were now clear. They wanted the bullet, if they had killed Heinlein in the bomb then it could be damaged. It also, as they had initially suspected served as a warning to Heinlein. To have stolen the bullet in a normal way would have alerted the CIA as to its theft. By using a bomb no one could be sure where it was or even if it had survived. But why kill so many just to get this one bullet, and what in hell was inside it, inside of her?

"I see you recognize it, good! By the puzzled look on your face you're wondering what was inside it. Let me explain, "The Guild Faction agent put the kidney bowl to one side and started to talk, "After Hassan's death and the destruction of the Guild our resources were at a critical low. Every site, installation or safe house that was on the database you released to the world was raided and everything confiscated. There were a few, a very few that Hassan kept secret, known only to his most trusted commanders. They were supposed to be places of retreat should the worst happen. Even these were betrayed as once trusted friend's plea bargained them in exchange for a more comfortable life. All but one remained, here in the US. The last and most well equipped."

"I suspected as much," Friday mind was going full pelt. She was right not to preemptively go after them. Knowing Hassan this stronghold would be well protected and she'd never be able to get close without killing her daughter or even stop them killing her.

"Inside these refuges there were a whole suite of Gene sequencers and analysis equipment. We used these to create two unique strains of bacteria, one of which now infects you."

"Bastard!" Friday swore.

"Now, now. The bacteria contained within the bullet took us months to create. What it does it create an imbalance in your changeling organ. If you use it, more than a very small amount, say just enough to stop a small amount of bleeding; then in response to the increase in changeling activity the bacteria will produce a toxin that will trigger the changing organ's failsafe and reduce your body to a protein soup within a matter of moments, " The Guild Faction agent explained with a triumphant smile.

Friday's heart sank. What she'd just been told was plausible, and is just what she'd done to kill the other changeling she'd fought a few months ago and now they had used it against her. "Is, is it contagious?" she hoped to God that it would just affect her.

"It's perfectly harmless against normal humans, however totally lethal to changelings such as yourself. It's doubtful you'll be able to cure it in time for your next and most vital mission. Take a look at your left arm."

Friday glanced over to her left arm. Just below the elbow on her forearm was a small bulge, about the size of dime, "What the fuck's that?" Her next mission? They killed people just to infect her with something that would make her changeling abilities useless and what in the hell was that in her arm! She tried to suppress the panic welling up inside her. That was why there was just the one Guild Faction member in here she was defenseless!

"That is your payload. I wouldn't mess with it, it's quite, quite lethal!"

"What the fuck do you want me to do?" There HAD to be a way out of this!

"I'm not sure if you are aware yet, but because of our recent activities your President is planning a summit meeting with the leader of the traitors Guild, Kismet. This mission is scheduled to be held tomorrow, inside an underground bunker beneath the White House. We also know that you are to be invited as the person best suited to know how to combat the threat we pose to them. Once the meeting has started, the doors will be sealed to prevent any incursion or possibility of a security leak. We want you to attend this summit meeting."

Friday could see where this was going and it sickened her, "And kill them!"

"Yes. Squeeze the bulge in your left arm hard and it will release the second form of the bacteria we developed. This version is airborne and quite lethal to humans, causing their cellular structure to collapse, the airtight nature of the bunker will contain the outbreak, but alas it will also ensure that it can never be opened again. You of course will remain inside, immune to this plague, but unable ever to escape from your quarantine for fear of releasing a horrific curse on the world, "The Guild Faction agent gave another 'I win again' smile.

Friday stared at the bulge in her arm. So that was how they planned to stop her hitting back and taking revenge on them! She'd thought it would be something she could combat, or outwit but so far she hadn't a clue how to get out of this, trapped inside a hermetically sealed bunker with a lethal plague that would spread like wildfire if the doors were ever opened. Add to that she was unable to use her changeling organ to create a cure; she would remain entombed in there for as long as she lived. Unless it was a bluff, you would need some serious expertise and equipment to construct such a plague, and also create a bacteria so as to stop her using her changeling organ. Did the Guild Faction still have access to such resources? Unless this was something left behind from the attack on Tel-Aviv she doubted they still did, "You're bluffing!"

"Are we?" The agent reached down below Friday's line of sight and pulled out a small, portable DVD player. He opened it up, "This footage was taken using a test subject." He pressed play.

Friday looked on in horror as a young man was shoved into a sealed isolation unit and the door closed behind him. A few seconds a later a test tube of pink liquid was dropped inside and it smashed all over the floor. Within moments the man had crumpled to the ground and just liked in her nightmares over Tel Aviv his skin started to melt and rot away. Seconds later his skeleton fell prey to the plague and five minutes later all that remained of him was large pool of pink brackish liquid on the floor, "You evil…" She spat. Sickened to the core at what she was being asked to do. "I.. I won't do it. How can I let my daughter live, knowing I let all this happen!"

"It's now bigger than your daughter and friends. We knew you may well refuse us, which is why we have arranged for another incentive. We have hidden another vial of the plague in a house somewhere in the city. If you refuse to cooperate at any time or try and burn the mission, the vial will be shattered and the plague released into the general population, our best projections is that between 70 and 100 million people will die before containment procedures help stem the flow. Actually we suspect the only way to stop it, would be to sterilize the entire city of Washington and the only true way of doing that would be to use a nuclear weapon. You'll be quite safe of course, trapped inside your bunker. A sole survivor in a city of the dead, A perfect end to a life built of the dead bodies of others don't you think!"

Friday was speechless, she had seriously underestimated them and their capabilities. This clearly was the big play she had expected to happen. What choice did she have? She may well be able to fight her way out of the ambulance, but then the vial somewhere in the city would be broken and she'd be responsible for the death of millions. There was no time to get people to look for it, if she refused then an hour so later that would be that. She had always thought that the Guild Faction's weakness was over confidence, she saw for the first gut wrenching time that was also her own. She collapsed back on the stretcher to think. What in the fuck was she going to do now?

"What's your answer!" the agent demanded.

"I'm fucking thinking about it," she snapped.

"Don't take too long. Remember we release the genetic plague if you don't comply with us fully!"

"What good will it do you, killing all those people. There won't be a government on the planet who will let you take refuge in their country," Friday pointed out.

"After this it won't matter. Only we will have the antidote and we can charge any price we wish! So, to save them are you prepared to do what we want?"

"WAIT!" Friday closed her eyes and tried to focus. The thought of carrying out their evil sickened her to the core. But if she refused, then an unimaginable number of people would die, and again she would be to blame. If she did as they wanted she'd be entombed for life with only a lethal plague as company. As the agent had told her, it was an apt end for her life. She felt a presence at the back of her mind, forcing its way into her subconscious. In her minds eye, she felt a slender hand stroke her hair

"Hello Lizzy," she whispered in her mind.

"How in the fuck are they going to make sure you've done their dirty work? They can't put an observer inside a meeting of three people, and they won't be able to go back in to check. Putting a bug on you won't work because you'll be screened before you go in. Dearest Elizabeth, all that little miss nice routine of yours has dulled that exquisite brain of yours! Can't you see the solution?" she heard Lizzy's voice in the back of her mind. Taunting her, goading her and then finally in single flash of revelation she had the answer!

Friday opened her eyes and gave a piercing stare at the Guild Faction agent, "OK you evil bastard I'll do it!"

EPISODE 3 - Revenge Is A Dish, Best Served Cold..

"Excellent. Don't try and pull anything. From now on we will watch and monitor you closely. Any deviation from the plan, or attempt to contact the authorities and we will smash the vial. We will drop you off at your car in an hour, don't worry about your shoulder it's not badly wounded. Our sniper is an excellent shot and it's only flesh wound. Your husband will no doubt be expecting you back to tell you that the President wants to see you tomorrow. Rest assured we WILL know if you try anything," The Agent didn't need to sound threatening Friday knew exactly what was at stake.

"Ok, Look I still feel weird. How long will I feel like this?" Friday asked.

"A few more hours, remember do not try and use your changeling organ. Now put this change of blouse on, your one is soaked in blood and you'll be asked too many questions if you come back with blood all over you."

"Someone must have seen me shot?" Friday's mind flicked back to seeing the glint of a snipers scope before the bullet hit.

"Yes, but we were on the scene in seconds. No body knows it was you, only that you fell and an ambulance was close by to pick you up."

"Thought of everything haven't you!" Friday said sarcastically. 'Apart from the one thing I'm going to use to nail you fuckers with!' she thought.

The Guild Faction agent threw Friday a red blouse, "Put this on. It's time to go home!"

Friday managed to sit up, and ignoring the embarrassment she felt changed into the blouse she'd been provided with. It's not a bad body to be stuck in, she mused as she did the buttons up and put her denim coat back on. The bullet wound had been well dressed and had stopped bleeding. Hopefully Steve wouldn't notice anything amiss when she walked in.

An hour later the ambulance dropped her back at her car. Her shoulder still ached and her whole body felt fragile. It felt strange to be at the mercy of fate once more. A single car crash, disease, knife would or bullet could prove fatal. Half of her confidence relied on her practical immortality. At least she still had her spare set of primary organs, but now with no means to replace them it meant that should they so wish Steve and her would never be able to have children. Children, a year ago the very thought seemed miles away, but now with her daughters surrogate birth only two months away it rammed the issue home.

Lizzy was spot on, her little miss nice act had dulled her edge. Now all that remained was a desperate plan, that a sociopathic killer called Lizzy had revealed to her. In theory and as far as she could tell Lizzy was acting in the best interests of everyone, but even now she questioned her own sanity once more. She started the car and drove home, carefully.

--- oo ---

Steve still wasn't home by the time she got out of the car and unlocked the door. On the way home, she was sure she'd been followed and even up until she walked in the house she felt as though she was being watched.

Her sharp eye noticed a few things in slightly different places, the phone, the CD's stacked in a different order and the curtains being an inch too open. The Guild Faction must have broken in when she was out and bugged the place. That made sense, they would want to know what she said to Steve and anyone else up until the point she walked into the White House. For sure she couldn't leave the house. That would be a sure sign she was up to something, but there was one place she could go in which she was sure they couldn't listen in.

She rummaged around beneath the stash of clothes in her wardrobe and took out the secure phone the President had given her, switched the TV on loud, and walked outside into the Garden.

By now it was dark, cold, wet and a quick survey of the lawn showed that nothing had been disturbed. Putting a bug in a room, or a phone would be easy. Listening in when she was sitting in the middle of a garden surrounded by a high fence would be much harder. The only means of communication she had that she trusted was the secure cell phone in her hand. If it had been tampered with, the encryption routines would fail or the phone wouldn't work. Her own standard cell phone and the land line phone had been tampered with, of that she had no doubt.

She performed another close circuit of the Garden, checking for any hidden microphones. There were none. Satisfied she was clear she picked the phone from her pocket and dialed.

The phone rang five times before the President answered "Yes!" he snapped.

"Mr President, Friday here sir. We have to talk!"

"Can it wait, I'm in the middle of a meeting!"

"No sir, it's about your meeting with the Guild Leader, Kismet tomorrow!"

"How did you about that? You've not been informed you're invited yet," The President demanded.

"Sir, this is vitally important. Yours and Kismet's life is in terrible danger. You must move the meeting unofficially forward three hours!" Friday said, her voice putting across total seriousness.

"In danger? Who from?" The President demanded

"Me! Listen, the Guild Faction have acquired a bacteria that will kill anyone who it comes into contact with, as far as I can tell its airborne 100% fatal and over 90% contagious. I've no idea of the incubation period of this strain is, but in order to spread it'll need to be days rather than hours. If I don't go thru with your assassinations they will release it into the general population. They estimate deaths in the region of 80 to 100 million. I don't disbelieve them!"

"Fucking hell! Did they tell you where they were keeping it? And how in hell did they find you!" The President's voice sounded a little shaken.

"No sir, only that it was in house somewhere in the Washington area. We can't possibly search every house before they suss what's going on and release the plague."

There was a long silence on the phone. The President was clearly thinking it over. A minute or so later he replied, "You would not have called if you had any intention of killing me or anyone else. You also would not have called if you didn't already have a counter to this threat and were confident that it would work!"

"Yes Sir I do have a counter. I want you call Kismet and then whoever you call to invite me along and tell them that you need to bring the meeting forward three hours. Do not tell them the real reason why, just call it a surprise reception and appreciation function. I suspect how the Guild Faction found out about the meeting was because of a leak close to Kismet's Guild leaders. If you agree, here's what you will need to have prepared by the time the meeting reaches it's scheduled time."

Friday then spent the next twenty minutes outlining what she needed to have happen and most importantly by when.

"Fucking hell Friday, are you sure this will work!"

Friday replied in her most persuasive manner, "Yes sir, if we get this right then we'll be able to trace them back to their base of operations and then use Special Forces to take them out before they know what's hit them. Sir, we have an opportunity to take them all down, all at once. We need to execute a swift and immediate counter attack, if we leave it any longer they will have time to release the plague. Mr. President we have a chance to end this."

"Friday, the stakes are terribly high. Are you SURE this is what they're planning to do?" The President sounded nervous, natural enough given the circumstances.

"Sir, we both know that the stakes were much higher a few months back. You trusted me then. I'm asking you to do so again, that and another small thing?"

"Which is?" The President asked.

"Do whatever what needs to be done to save Jane Stephen's baby. I managed to see some medical reports and something inside her is slowly killing the baby. Look, I've seen the way this will go and there's only a very, very slim chance I'll survive it. I want, no make that need to know that you'll do everything possible to save both of them. If you say no, I'll help you anyway, but please, please save her!" Friday's voice was starting to crack under the feelings welling up inside her.

She was sure that she could stop the plague being released and survive that. But she had little doubt that she could survive tackling the Guild Faction with no changeling organ to save her. They were just too good at killing. Many times she had tried to take her own life, and in the quiet moments of her dreams wished for the comforting darkness of oblivion. But now she had Steve, and her daughter to live for that desire had vanished like the morning mist. She HAD to survive this!

"Friday are you still there?" The President's voice interrupted her introspective thoughts.

"Yes sir, We don't have much time if we're to finish by the time the meeting starts. We need to start now!" Friday's renewed sense of urgency gave her voice a hard edge.

"We'll do it. I'll put Delta Force on an hours notice and arrange for the work to start now. I will also instigate the cauterization protocol in case we fail. As for the other matter, I'll make sure our best people are on the case, whatever it takes! I owe Matthew and Jane Stephens, hell we all do! I'll see you at 4pm tomorrow. Unless you hear from me, assume it's all arranged," The President's voice was tinged with the realization of what he had just agreed to do.

"Thank you sir, I'll do the same. Until tomorrow," Friday switched the secure phone off. Cauterization protocol, a polite way of saying if she failed then the President would instigate a series of measures to ensure the plague never got out of the city the last and most extreme of which the Guild Faction had correctly deduced to be the use of a nuclear weapon to wipe out any trace of it. Better 10 million than a 100 million.

She quietly walked back into the house, turned the shower on and made sure that her bullet wound was healing ok. The light headed, fragile feelings she'd had since she was shot had passed. What worried her, really worried her was that something of this magnitude didn't just crop up overnight. It would take at least a big part of a year of planning and preparation, which meant the Guild Faction must still have an ace in the hole somewhere. Still, so long as they behaved in the way she expected them to it would be fine.

She heard the door unlock, Steve was home and she needed to get dressed before he spotted the bullet wound.

"Hi Steve," Friday chirped. How easy I find it to fool those I care for most that I'm happy and carefree, she thought bitterly, as Steve embraced her and gave her a welcome home kiss.

"You'll need to be on your best behavior tomorrow!" Steve smiled.

"Oh? Why's that. Jack and Sandy coming to visit?" Friday asked, another deception.

Steve closed the door, hung his coat up, "No. Apparently there's this summit meeting between the President and Kismet, the UN led Guild leader. They're going to discuss how best to tackle this Guild splinter Faction that everyone is so worried about. Because of your involvement a few months ago, they want you there!"

"Wow, where abouts?" Friday enthused.

"At the Whitehouse, there's also some kind of gala reception beforehand so you'll need to be there by 4pm. You DO have friends in high places!" Steve gave Friday a mock salute.

"I've got nothing to wear!" That was true. She'd not even considered what to wear to an official white house function. Any kind of off the shoulder dress was out of the question, as Steve would see the wound right away and that would make things very complex. She couldn't now really leave the house either, as that would induce panic in those watching her, and when dealing with a lethal plague, panic is not something you wanted to induce.

"Yes you have, you're supposed to go in your Air Force uniform. It'll raise a lot less questions than having an unknown civilian turn up."

Friday breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, "Shame in a way. I bet Heinlein is happy with my newfound status?"

"Actually he wasn't as pissed off as I thought he'd be. I guess its all prestige to him that one of his agents is invited to a restricted summit meeting. Anyway a car will come and pick you up around 3, you'll be briefed when you get there I guess because that's all I know," Steve explained.

Friday nodded, "It's good to be useful again."

"How could you ever be anything but?" Steve gave her another hug and Friday had to try hard not to wince as she squeezed her wounded shoulder.

--- oo ---

Friday hardly slept all night. She desperately wanted Steve to cuddle her to sleep, but as soon as he put her arm around her, then she would either wince in pain, or he would feel the bandage and ask what the problem was. She had avoided using her arm and shoulder all night, so as not to show the awkwardness of movement in it.

She sat awake in the living room, the lights were off and the house was silent apart from the odd creak of a heating pipe or car driving past. The only light in the room was the pinkish glow from the new lava lamp Steve had bought on a whim a few days before. Watching the bubbles go up and reform was vaguely comfortable, although, it was a welcome distraction from the day ahead of her.

Tomorrow we'll know if this worked or not she thought. A few miles away lots of people had been dragged into work to ensure that her plan was a success. She decided to stay up and watch the dawn, in all probability it would be her last.

--- oo ---

Friday sat on a dining room chair she'd dragged outside to watch the sun come up. She'd got a blanket from the spare room and wrapped it around her to keep the chill of the morning off her. She was not disappointed with the sunrise. Slowly the light had started to creep in over the horizon, igniting the sky red and orange as it did so. Streaks of white slashed horizontal lines across the orange, red and night blue sky. For a last ever sunrise she couldn't have wished for better.

She heard footsteps behind her, Steve must have awoken and not found her next to him, "There you are!" he exclaimed

"Here I am!" Friday replied and turned to look at the sky once more.

"Couldn't sleep huh?"

"I realized that I'd never seen a sunrise here and that it was about time I did," Friday commented quietly.

Steve squatted down next to her, "What's up?"

"Just contemplating my own mortality. Life is so fragile isn't it? I mean one second we're fine and the next 'wham' that's it," Friday glanced down at Steve and reached out to stroke his hair. Will he miss me when I've gone? She asked herself.

"I thought we'd agreed that we could handle the risks? What's bought this on?" Steve interrupted defensively.

"I just get melancholy sometimes. You know, you're trying to go to sleep and yet all your brain wants to do is remind you of what could go wrong. At least I've not had the nightmares since 'us' happened," Friday tried to take some small comfort from that. The truth was she was desperately worried.

"Just sometimes? Come on I'll make you some coffee, " Steve gave Friday another hug, right on her wound and it was all Friday could do not to cry out in pain.

"I'll stay a bit longer, it's not quite light yet and I want to see it all!" Friday said and went back to watching the dawn. By now the birds were in full song, celebrating the birth of another day.

--- oo ---

It was all Friday could do, not to break down in front of Steve has she kissed him goodbye. She had to make it appear as though this was any other day. She watched Steve leave for work, tears streaming down her face. This had to work, had to!

With nothing else to do but wait for the next six hours she got herself breakfast and collapsed on the sofa. An hour later she got up and logged into her website to update that months codes. She then wrote down the next year's worth of codes in an email and addressed it to the lawyer's office where her insurance was kept. After writing a long explanation requesting that the tapes they held be destroyed she set the email to delay being forwarded on to them in a month. In the unlikely event of her return she would delete the outgoing mail from the server before it had been sent. If she didn't return then it would prevent a grave injustice.

Whatever the rights and wrongs of it, the President didn't deserve the scandal her insurance would create. After all, when she had gone, he was baby Elizabeth's only hope. After logging out she walked to her stereo and recorded a music track onto tape. It would help prepare her for what was to come. After she had completed the recording she walked back to the sofa to think.

Was it really that certain she would die today? She could see no way of avoiding a fight with the Guild Faction. She would be expected to go join the battle, and she refused to back away from that. Too many people had died to get her within striking distance. The Mossad agents she had killed for a start. To run away would be to deny them justice! To run away would be to admit she murdered them!

She did still have some advantages, she would be faster and stronger than them and in addition thanks to her backup organs could take a couple of potentially fatal gunshots before being taken down. She was under no illusions that this would be enough, but at least she'd take as many of the bastards with her as she could!

She closed her eyes and tried to get some rest, she had a big last day today.

At 14:45 Friday spread out the remaining parts of her uniform, the white blouse and regulation tie, her jacket complete with first Lieutenants insignia on and finally her cap. Before she put them on, she walked over to the CD Player and pressed repeat and waited for the song to start once again.

     "All around me are familiar faces
     Worn out places, Worn out faces
     Bright and early for the daily races
     Going nowhere, Going nowhere
     Their tears are filling up their glasses
     No expression, No expression
     Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
     No tomorrow, No tomorrow"

She did her shirt up, ensuring it looked as immaculate as she could make it. It wouldn't do to die scruffy. Next she did the tie up and after making it was straight in the mirror moved onto her jacket.

     "And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
     These dreams in which I'm dying, Are the best I've ever had
     I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
     When people run in circles it's a very very.
     Mad World, Mad World"

As she put her jacket on and gave the buttons a quick polish she wondered what it would be like to die. She had wanted to so many times and yet fate and her own inner drive to live had kept her going.

     "Children waiting for the day they feel good
     Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
     And they feel the way that every child should
     Sit and listen, Sit and listen
     Went to school and I was very nervous 
     No one knew me, No one knew me
     Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
     Look right through me, Look right through me"

She put on her cap, ensuring it was on at the correct angle. Apart from Steve, the people who would miss her the most would be her class at school. 'At least some people will mourn me' she thought taking a last look in the mirror.

     "And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
     These dreams in which I'm dying, Are the best I've ever had
     I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
     When people run in circles it's a very very
     Mad World, Mad World"

     Enlargen your world

     Mad World."

She heard the horn of a car outside and peered outside. A black limo with a US diplomatic flag on the fender was waiting outside for her. She took a long last look at her home, hurriedly wrote Steve a simple note that told him she loved him, closed the door and got inside the car.

--- oo ---

At 16:01 Friday was ushered into a small side office that had been hastily equipped with a large number of computers and screens. Waiting inside was the President, who was busy talking to what looked to be a member of the secret service.

He turned, and noticed Friday standing at the door. "Afternoon Friday, as you can see we've been having a busy night."

Friday stood to attention and saluted, "Glad to hear that sir. How we're doing?"

"At ease Lieutenant, close the door would you?"

Friday nodded and closed the door.

"I've just been told that the trace is all in place. As soon as it starts we'll be able to locate their hideaway within a few minutes. Actually it'll be more difficult than that as all we'll have is a straight line and their hideout will be somewhere along that line. But we know from previous Guild installations it'll probably be in an industrial or office complex, somewhere easy to defend and observe who comes in and out."

"And the rendering?" Friday asked.

"These computers have been doing whatever they do all night. I'm told the result is pretty convincing. Talking of which Dr Adams is waiting for you in the infirmary. I'm sure you don't want to be a walking weapon of mass destruction any longer than you have to be."

Friday smiled, "Yes sir! Is Kismet here yet?"

"He's just arrived. I will have briefed him by the time you've got back from the infirmary. Do you have anything else? The President asked. His eyes had dark rings around them, clearly like her he'd had a poor nights sleep.

Friday nodded, "And the special forces guys?"

"Ready to go as soon as we say where," The President said with a smile. Clearly dealing with Guild Faction was the part he was looking forward to the most.

"Sir, I have a request. I want to go in with the special ops people to take out the Guild Faction. Too many people have died at the hands of those bastards, and I need to make sure they all go down. Besides, if there are Bioweapons there you'll need someone who can deal with it on site!" She found it easier to sign her death warrant than she thought.

"Agreed. You know to be careful!"

Friday nodded, "yes sir!"

"Friday, you'd better scram. Dr Adams's doesn't like to be kept waiting." The President ordered.

"I know," Friday smiled and considered hanging around a few minutes longer just to annoy her, but they had serious time pressure and every moment counted.

Friday was escorted down a flight of stairs into the white house infirmary. She'd last been here over ten months ago. Badly wounded by the Guild Changeling she'd fought she had been cared for by Dr Beverly Adams, who ironically enough had treated her for her shrapnel wounds a few months ago. Except this time she couldn't let on who she was. Dr Adams and her had also had a major falling out back at med school.

Friday jumped up onto the surgical table and sat waiting for Dr Adams to appear. A minute or so later Dr Adam's appeared, pushing a small trolley of surgical instruments. "You must be Lt Friday Carrell. My name is Dr Adams. Would you mind entering the isolation chamber please."

Friday hadn't had time to notice a large plastic tent like structure at the end of the room. Its purpose was obvious. If Dr Adams accidentally released the plague it would be safely contained. Friday nodded and walked inside.

Friday waited while Doctor Adams donned a thin plastic suit, complete with breather unit and filters. She was taking no chances. Dr Adams checked and rechecked she had all the equipment she needed and that the isolation unit was fully sealed before finally closing the airlock.

"Which arm is it implanted in?" Dr Adams asked.

Not being able to resist a tease, Friday replied, "My left. Don't burst it will you?"

"I'll try not to, now take off your jacket and shirt and we'll take a look, "Dr Adams ordered.

Friday obeyed, grateful that she at least knew who she was entrusting her life to.

"Let's take a look and see if it's just a pouch or if it's attached," Dr Adams said and retrieved a portable ultrasound scanner from her trolley. She rubbed Friday's arm with rubbing alcohol and proceeded to run it over the area where the bulge was.

From where she sat Friday couldn't see the scan, but she trusted Dr Adams to be thorough. After a few minutes manipulating the scanner on Friday's arm Dr Adams pronounced, "Looks to be a sub-dermal pouch. It's not connected up, so we should be able to just make two small cuts in the skin and tease it out. We'll then put the dummy one in by the same way.

"I'll need to do this without anesthetic, as you'll have to be able to use your arm normally and without restriction. It'll hurt, but no one will mind if you have to scream.

Normally Friday would have just numbed the nerves in her arm, but such an action could well kill her. She'd have to do it the old fashioned way, grit her teeth and ignore the pain.

She didn't look at Dr Adams or the scalpel as she felt it cut unto her arm. Every nerve told her to take the arm away, but she forced it to stay in place. People's lives depended on it! There was another shooting pain, as the second incision was made in her arm. She felt a small set of tweezers being inserted into the cut and something being taken out. The pain was shooting thru her entire body, but she had to stay still.

Seconds later the sensations stopped and were replaced by a dull ache. "Ow!" she protested.

"Here it is, "Dr Adams said carefully lifting a small translucent pouch that was covered in blood but Friday could see it contained a purple pink liquid. Now for the false one. This might hurt a little, and I'll need to stitch around it a little so the liquid inside will be able to seep out."

Dr Adams reached over into a kidney bowl and with a set of tweezers, lifted up an identically sized pouch, this time filled with a blood color, "This is a small pouch of theatrical blood, when you squeeze it it'll pop open just like the real thing should do. It'll hurt as I slide it back in, so let me know when you're ready."

Friday braced herself for another wave of pain, "Sure. Any time you like doc."

Again, Friday had to keep still as Dr Adams inserted the pouch into her arm. Once under the skin, the sensations grew less intense, but it still hurt like hell.

"Only a little more Dermabond to go and then you'll need to wait until the bleeding stops."

Friday felt the Dermabond liquid being squeezed and spread into place. It would hold the skin together until it healed, to Dr Adam's credit she did a good job.

"There we go, you'll need to keep it still for an hour and you'll need to leave your uniform shirt off until the bleeding stops."

Friday nodded, "Can I get out of here now?"

"Sure, I'll be glad to get out of this isolation suit too," Dr Adams commented and started to clear away.

--- oo ---

An hour later Friday was putting her uniform back on when President Roberts walked into the infirmary. This was cutting it close, they only had 90 minutes to put it all together!

"How'd it go?" He asked Friday.

"Good Sir. The real plague was taken away by some secret service guy, and my arm's just stopped bleeding from where the false one was put in. We ready?"

The President nodded, "Yes. Kismet was stunned at the audacity of the Guild Faction's plan and he's been fully briefed. He's adamant that none of his staff could have tipped them off, but we'll get to that later. Time to go."

"Will I pass muster?" Friday asked adjusting her cap.

"You'll do. Ready to win an Oscar? The President smiled.

"Come on let's go," Friday stated. Here goes nothing she thought, as she started walking towards the bunker.

--- oo ---

On a small VDU Friday watched herself, the President, and Kismet walking being saluted by the Guards and walking inside the bunker. The view then flicked to show them walking along the corridor to a conference room and then back in time to check the doors had been sealed shut.

The image went to that of the three of them sitting down at an ornate conference table. Friday shook hands with both the President and Kismet.

"Thank you for coming?" The President on the screen said cordially.

"It is a pleasure to be here, although I wish under better circumstances," the on screen Kismet replied waiting to be asked to sit down.

"Kismet, this is Friday our resident Guild Faction expert. She's here to advise us on their postulated capabilities," The President gestured to the on screen Friday who extended her hand in welcome.

Kismet took it and kissed it in traditional fashion, "A pleasure."

President Roberts then said, "Please take a seat, shall we get started? We have a lot to go thru."

They all sat down, waiting for the President to start speaking. Friday casually reached across to her left arm, as if to scratch it, and gave it a long hard squeeze, "OW!" She cried out as blood ran down her fingers.

"You ok?" the onscreen President asked, standing up to have a better look. Kismet did the same.

Friday clutched the Presidents hand, the blood on hers dripping onto his, "I'm so sorry, I had no choice," She sobbed.

Seconds later, to Friday's horror, the on screen President staggered away from Friday, "I. I feel so.." He then collapsed onto the floor. Kismet clutched his head and then fell to the floor screaming.

The President and kismet's bodies slowly starting to collapse in on themselves as the plague took effect. Seconds later pinkish red fluid was seeping out of their clothes.

Friday, still in tears picked up the phone on the desk and pressed the emergency call button Friday shouted down the phone in almost panic, "There's been an incident with the President and the Guild Leader. FOR FUCKS SAKE DO NOT OPEN THE DOORS!"

There was a brief pause before anyone spoke.

"Excellent!" Friday, turned to the technician who, with a flick of a mouse reset the video footage to the start.

"If the guy watching this doesn't use the cameras in the way we expect we're fucked," another technician commented.

Friday nodded, "Hopefully we've shot enough footage of other parts of the bunker to give us a fighting chance, besides the focus will be on me, President Roberts and the Guild Leader. Whoever watches this won't have time to go snooping around, they'll just want to see I do what I have to and that all hell breaks loose afterwards."

A technician turned and asked Friday "Can I go show this to President Roberts now?"

"Yeah go ahead. I just hope the real run goes as smoothly," Friday replied. If it didn't the cost would be horrific.

--- oo ---

The President, Friday, Kismet, several technicians, members of the cabinet and a Delta force Colonel sat in front of a large screen that had been set up inside the oval office. For her part, Friday had been introduced as an expert on the Guild Faction having spent months looking into their tactics and likely strategic objectives.

"You sure the trace is in place?" The President asked a technician in a worried tone.

"Yes sir. We found the tap the Guild Faction had placed on the video feed from the bunker and we're ready to trace the signal back as soon as they switch on."

"Tap?" Someone asked from the back of the room asked. Friday thought it might have been one of President Roberts's staff.

"All secure government installations have a video feed to a remote site in case of emergency. It allows us to see exactly what went on before the incident happened; even if the installation is destroyed we'll have a record of it. The only way the Guild Faction would be able to tell if I had done what they asked is by tapping into that feed," Friday explained. That had been the revelation 'Lizzy' had hinted at. They HAD to be using that. It was the only feed in our or out. Heinlein and Steve had both used it to show her the theft of the changeling organ and her own 'cloning' of her daughter. Lizzy had remembered that incident at the crucial time!

A secret service guy was talking, "We have no idea how they got the tap in place sir. You need a real high clearance level."

"We'll deal with that later. How long to go?" The President shuffled on his seat and Friday noted you could cut the tension with a knife.

"Three minutes sir," A technician replied.

"This will be seamless. They won't be able to tell their being fed a false video signal?" That was another member of the cabinet.

"No sir, they won't notice a thing! We've spliced right into the CCTV system. As soon as the meeting is due to start we'll run the false feed. The big screen above me will show us what they see. It's taken us all night and more computing power than I care to imagine to produce the special effects we need to make this convincing. It's made a little easier due to the comparatively low quality of the images the CCTV equipment produces. It's not as though it's going to be shown at the local multiplex or on DVD."

"Colonel, what's the status of your troops?" The President asked.

The Colonel saluted, "A1 Sir, they're in the air, in a holding pattern. As soon as we know where these bastards are they'll be there in five minutes. We'll need to take it slow and careful, so expect us to go in proper in an hour. We'll need the time to get the layout of the building, secure the perimeter and take down any sentries.

Also, just in case one of the bad guys releases the plague as we go in, we've two AC130-H Specter Gunship's with a Daisy Cutter fuel air bomb in each. Enough to incinerate 10 city blocks, and if they try and make run for it they'll be able handle anything that moves. For close support there are ten AH64 Apache's in the air just in case we need to go after them at a street level."

The President nodded his approval.

"Two minutes sir," one of the technicians reminded.

"Good," he replied.

"Mr. President what happens if they switch cameras, how do we convince them that you've really been killed after the video feed cuts out?" that was another cabinet member.

The President nodded, "We've filmed several of the staff who would be in the bunker at the time succumbing to the plague It's being fed from separate feeds, so if they flick to a random camera they'll see the plague affecting the entire bunker. In 30 minutes time we'll evacuate the Whitehouse and go on Maximum alert. By then it'll all be over. We need to make it convincing enough until the Special Forces take them out!"

Friday noted at how relaxed the President seemed in front of his troops. Inside she was a mess. At least they had enough firepower to deal with anything the Guild Faction could throw at them, if only she had! She checked her watch. It was nearly 7 pm; Steve would be home and would have read her note. In a few hours time he would be informed that his wife had been killed in action and his whole life would collapse around him. Still, she had to go thru with this. How did the quote from General Patton go ' Courage is fear holding on a minute longer'. Well according to her watch a minute is all she had.

"30 seconds sir," A technician said.

"They've accessed the tap and getting ready to go. Trace running!" Another technician said, pointing at his monitoring screen.

"Proceed at will!" The President ordered.

"Patching in false feed, in 5, 4,3,2 1. Go!"

The large screen sprang to life and the image changed to that of the President, Kismet and Friday walking being saluted by the Guards and walking inside the bunker. The view then flicked to show them walking along the corridor to a conference room and then back in time to check the doors had been sealed shut.

'Good job he didn't flick back earlier!" Friday thought. They'd left the doors shut on purpose and hoped that the watcher would concentrate on them, not the doors or anyone else.

The image went to that of the three of them sitting down at an ornate conference table. It showed Friday shaking hands with both the President and Kismet.

"Thank you for coming?" The President on the screen said cordially.

"It is a pleasure to be here, although I wish under better circumstances," the on screen Kismet replied waiting to be asked to sit down.

"Kismet, this is Friday our resident Guild Faction expert. She's here to advise us on their postulated capabilities," the President gestured to the on screen Friday who extended her hand in welcome.

On screen Kismet took it and kissed it in traditional fashion, "A pleasure."

The on screen President Robert said, "Please take a seat, shall we get started? We have a lot to go thru."

The image showed them all sitting down, waiting for the President to start speaking.

On screen Friday then casually reached across to her left arm and gave it a long hard squeeze, "OW!" She cried out as blood ran down her fingers.

"You ok?" the onscreen President asked, standing up to have a better look. Kismet did the same.

Friday clutched the Presidents hand, the blood on hers dripping onto his, "I'm so sorry, I had no choice," She sobbed.

Seconds later, the on screen President staggered away from Friday, "I. I feel so.." He then collapsed onto the floor. Kismet clutched his head and then fell to the floor screaming.

The screen showed the President and kismet's bodies slowly starting to collapse in on themselves as the plague took effect. Seconds later pinkish red fluid was seeping out of their clothes.

On screen Friday, still in tears picked up the phone on the desk and pressed the emergency call button Friday shouted down the phone in almost panic, "There's been an incident with the President and the Guild Leader. FOR FUCKS SAKE DO NOT OPEN THE DOORS!"

The view flicked to another camera shot, showing another pool of pink fluid seeping out of a uniform and then back to Friday who was sat at the desk still sobbing. The screen then changed to a whole range of camera's all showing pools of pink fluid seeping all over the floor.

Friday's heart leapt in her mouth as the view changed to another camera in a remote office of the bunker. There were two people in there drinking coffee and having a chat! FUCK! The camera flicked back to another corridor that showed another two dead bodies and then a final shot of Friday standing up and walking out of the conference room.

The screen went black, "That's it sir, they dropped the link!" the technician said triumphantly.

"Did we get the trace?" The President asked.

"The Technician nodded, "Yes sir, we did. It'll be ready in two minutes. Friday, you think they bought it?"

Friday thought for a few moments, "I'm not sure, I hope they'll just assume that the plague hadn't got to that part of the building yet."

"How will we know if they bought it?" An advisor from the back asked nervously.

"If people start dying, then I guess we'll know!" Friday said darkly. Where had that comment come from? It was a very 'Lizzy' thing to say.

The President shot her a disapproving look.

Friday got the hint, "Yes sir I do think they bought it, in spite of the glitch. It even had me convinced. The GCI was stunning. Well done guys," Friday couldn't but sound a little triumphant.

"Instigate the alert protocols. As far as anyone outside of this room is concerned this happened for real!" The President ordered.

"Yes sir!" A secret service agent picked up the phone and made a call.

The President addressed the team, surrounding him "Nicely done gentlemen and lady. A superb job, Steven Spielberg would be pleased. Now comes the hard part. Do we have the trace yet?"

"Not yet sir, 60 more seconds, it'll come up on the big screen again?" The technician commented.

The President glanced around the room, "Ok People, get ready."

The next 40 seconds or so happened in slow motion. A map of the city appeared with the Whitehouse at its centre, slowly a red line expanded from it and headed towards the North East.

"We don't know where it stops, just the direction," A technician explained.

"THERE!" the colonel pointed towards the outskirts of the city, "It's an industrial complex with good access. The line goes right thru the middle of it. Can we get a sat photo of the area?"

"Sure, gimmie 2 minutes."

Friday followed the path of the line, that was it! Her life line! "Sir?" She addressed the President.

"What it is Friday?"

"The line goes right near my house, Yes I know it goes thru lots of peoples houses, but my partner, Steve is at home. Could you use an extra man?" With Steve fighting alongside her, she'd feel a hell of a lot safer. Her chances of survival would double!

The President gave the Colonel a look as if to say 'your call'.

"What's his background?" The colonel asked.

Friday turned to the Delta Force Colonel, "Ex Marine, several years as a CIA field agent. Sir, he knows these guys nearly as much as I do. I could really do with his help. It's on the way to the industrial complex. There'd be no delay. Sir, two people who know how they work and what they think has to be better than just me alone," Friday pleaded. Her life depended on him saying yes, but she didn't want the Colonel to know that. He wanted to hear how capable she was, and what an asset she'd make. Not her own doubts, which could be misinterpreted as cowardice.

The colonel thought for a few moments, "Go Lieutenant. We'll meet up here!" He pointed to a building a block away from the main industrial park.

Friday breathed a sigh of relief, and saluted the colonel, "Yes sir! Thank you sir! I'll wait for the sat image. I'll also need a car to get back home."

"Done! Andrew, go find Friday a car!" the President said and turned back to the screen.

An advisor nodded to register the order and reached for a phone to make the call.

Friday was escorted to the car pool and was given the keys to a black Buick Sedan. Unless you were looking really hard, you wouldn't be able tell who was in it, a fact that suited her just fine. The exits of the Whitehouse were sure to be watched, and she hoped to slip out without attracting any attention.

So far things had gone as well as she could ever hope. The work the film and special effects guys had done in the short time available was nothing short of amazing. The President, Kismet and herself had done much of the acting for the assassination scene in a single take. They had had to lie in a fixed, pre-determined position so that the special effects could be blended seamlessly in. Pain staking work for sure, but it had paid off, so far.

She was glad Steve was around to help in the coming fight against the Guild Faction. Being a prisoner for so long he'd have a unique insight in addition to being able to pay back the debt they owed him in person!

One part of her hated herself for putting Steve in such possible danger, what if he was killed and she lived? But she knew Steve well enough by now to know that if he wasn't there and something happened to her, he'd never get over it. She took the tape she'd made earlier and put in the car's stereo. It would help focus her mind.

     "Hold on to me love
     You know I can't stay long
     All I wanted to say was
     I love you and I'm not afraid

     Can you hear me?
     Can you feel me in your arms
     Holding my last breath?
     Safe inside myself
     Are all my thoughts of you

     Sweet rapture and life,
     It ends here tonight."

In her minds eye she saw Steve clutching her fallen body, covered in blood and bullet wounds. All around them were dead Soldiers and Guild Faction Agents, clearly the result of a huge firefight. One thing she knew, it didn't matter what happened to her, they had won!

 "I'll miss the winter
A world of fragile things
Look for me in the white forest
Hiding in a hollow tree

I know you hear me,
I can taste it in your tears.
Holding my last breath
Safe inside myself
Are all my thoughts of you.

Sweet rapture and life,
It ends here tonight."

She was being attended to by medics and they were frantically trying to save her. Steve was now kneeling beside her, holding her hands and willing her to live with all his heart and soul.

 "Closing your eyes to disappear
You pray your dreams will leave you here,
But still you wake and know the truth -
No one's there.

Say goodnight, don't be afraid
Calling me, holding me, as you fade to black.

(Say goodnight) Holding my last breath
(Don't be afraid) Safe inside myself
(Holding me) Are my thoughts of you
Sweet rapture and life,
It ends here tonight."

Her mental picture ended with the medic standing up, shaking his head slowly at Steve and then walking away to treat some more of the wounded. Steve fell to his knees, and still holding her now lifeless body just sat there in shock mourning his dead wife.

--- oo ---

By the time Friday pulled into her driveway she was as ready for the coming fight as she ever could be. The disturbing images she'd seen had now been put to the back of her mind. If she was to die tonight, she would not go down easily, and she would not go down alone!

The light was on in the living room. "Thank God he's home!" Friday breathed in relief as she pulled the car into the drive.

She leapt out of the car, unlocked the door and ran inside.

"Steve, Where are you? The President needs us, I'll explain in the. Arrgggh" Friday screamed in pain and shock as a large serrated boney blade ripped its way thru her back and jutted out of her chest!

She tried to pull away, but a rough hand gripped the back of her neck, and before she could react threw her like some kind of rag doll across the room, ripping the blade out of her back and slamming her into the wall with such force it cracked the plaster on the wall.

Friday collapsed to the ground, gasping for every breath, her whole body was screaming out in pain, and she knew by the color of the blood that was gushing from the stab wound that her main heart and lungs and been severely damaged.

She looked up to see who her attacker was and was just in time to see a three foot long boney blade turn back into Steve's left arm!

"Dr Bexley, your propensity for survival is nothing short of amazing! It is one I have dreamed of depriving you off, ever since we met in North Korea!" Steve's eyes were glaring at her with utter hatred.

"Steve?" Friday tried to get to her feet. What in hell was going on? Something caught her eye and she glanced at the living room table, on top of it was a computer screen and a long thick cable running along the floor. The video feed had been monitored from here! Not the industrial unit. The Military was going to the wrong place! Steve? A changeling? It must be a fraud, some deception!

"I was asked to train you, and in every fight we ever had I had to hold back. Now, I'm pleased to say I don't have to," Steve's sneer caused fear to ripple down Friday's spine.

Something had started to grow out of Steve's left arm and in her current condition Friday was helpless to fight back. The slicing stab wound in her chest was done with absolute precision. It was designed to debilitate her enough to make her no match for Steve. Only someone with detailed knowledge of the way in which she worked would know where to strike! It was no fraud!

She backed away from Steve, towards the door. How in hell could she win against him with no changeling or repair abilities she was a sitting duck. Steve pulled a long, thin spear from his left arm. He'd grown it as he advanced towards her.

Friday glanced around trying to put the sofa between her and Steve, her eye detected a rapid hand movement from Steve and she barely had time to dodge out of the way of the spear as she landed with a heavy crunch on her wounded shoulder.

The impact knocked all the breath from her. 'Think Friday THINK!' her brain screamed. Unless she started to fight back she was dead.

Instantly Steve was upon her, grabbing her by the throat. She tried to kick and punch her way free but it was like trying to hit a brick wall. Steve had obviously grown armor beneath his clothing. She felt her windpipe constrict, as Steve lifted her off the floor, her breath choking out of her as he smashed her against the wall once more. Her head was spinning and she couldn't think straight.

A second later she was slammed to the floor and her chest pinned to the ground by Steve's booted foot, "I'd hoped for more of a fight from you, pity!"

"You, You loved me!" Was the only thing that came into Friday's mind as the pain of her rib cage being slowly crushed by Steve pressing down on with his foot grew ever more intense by the second.

With an evil grin, Steve pressed his foot down harder, bringing screams from Friday as her ribs splintered with one 'crack' after another. "How could I ever love anyone I despised as much as I do you! You killed my Father, destroyed all we had worked and built and humiliated us in front of the world. My only motivation in your seduction was to cause you more pain, more hurt when the time finally came to finally kill you!"

Friday felt her mouth fill with blood, not a good sign. By now her main heart and lungs had ceased functioning, her second set were only designed to buy her time until she could repair the main ones. No way could they work well enough to allow her to fight back with any appreciable effect.

She could feel her shattered ribs digging into the remains of her lungs, and the burning pain in her chest meant that her diaphragm had ruptured. She tried to move Steve's foot off her chest but it was stuck fast, slowly squeezing the life out of her.

She saw a ripple of change in Steve's mouth, now what was he doing. Before she could move to avoid, Steve gripped her head in his hand and bent down. She felt a gob of spit hit her left eye and as it hit her eye instantly sent wave upon wave of burning, agonizing pain crashing over her face. "That's what I really think of you wifey dearest!"

She felt the flesh in her eye being burned, melted away. Acid! She shook her head several times to try and get it out of her eye, but by the time she had done so the damage had been done.

She saw Steve's hand move to grab her throat once more, and this time she managed to push it out of the way, her reward was even greater pressure on her chest such that she started to lose consciousness. 'Must stay awake!' she told herself again and again. The inevitable happened, Steve managed to get a good grip on her neck and once again smashed her again and again against the wall, sending fresh gobs of blood splattering from her still open chest wound.

Barely conscious and pinned by Steve's right hand against the wall, Friday screamed as Steve rammed a bone spear he'd made into her wounded shoulder. This was joined by another Steve had shoved into her other shoulder. She was pinned by the two spears against the wall, unable to move or get off.

"Get it over with! Kill me!" She screamed at him.

"Not yet wifey dear," Steve replied stepping away from her for a moment to admire his handiwork, "More!" he said as if considering his options.

Friday looked on in horror as two more long spears grew from his left arm, she tried to wriggle out of the spears pinning her to the wall, but every movement sent wave after wave of near consciousness shattering agony thru her body.

She looked on helplessly, thru her single good eye and screamed in agony as Steve pushed another spear deep into her right thigh and into the wall, she tried to kick him out of the way, but she was too weak to hardly move. Try as she might she couldn't stop him from picking up the second spear and slowly and agonizingly wriggle it thru the flesh of her left thigh and into the wall.

Only semi conscious she looked around the room, blood was splattered everywhere, on the floor, against the walls; hers. Her brain was fighting just to stay alive, but she forced to it try and work. There was something special about her blood, what was it?

Steve had grown another spear and was coming closer with it. By now she couldn't move, loss of blood and in injuries to every part of her body had left her helpless. Steve grabbed hold of her left arm and pinned it straight against the wall, with a movement she could hardly see, he had rammed the spear thru her forearm and into the wall. Arterial blood spurted out from the fresh wound. 'Blood, more blood! What was special about it?"

She saw Steve pause for a moment and his flesh flowed and reshaped into that of the Guild Faction agent who had been giving her missions, "I wanted you to see the real me, just before you die," he spat.

'That was it, something he'd said to her. Something about her blood. Steve had now finished growing another spear from his arm. It was obvious where this one was going to go. She heard Lizzy in the back of her mind screaming in urgent panic, "Elizabeth! Don't let us die here! Your blood is deadly to that fucker! Kill him!"

Of course! Now she remembered it! Her blood was lethal to changelings. It was teeming with the bacteria they were using to stop her being able to use her changeling organ. "Come on Elizabeth LIVE! Stay alive you hell bitch LIVE!" She managed to scream thru the pain. She was now down to her last reserves, blood loss, internal injuries and bleeding were taking a heavy toll. Unless she did something quickly she only had minutes to live.

When she had fought Steve before, he told he she always looked to where she was going to strike, it had enabled him to second guess where she was going to hit. Steve was walking closer, holding the spear as casually as one would a pool cue. He grabbed her right arm, just as Friday was clenching her fist ready to hit him in the mouth. She deliberately looked at her clenched right fist and then at Steve.

"Always the same errors," Steve replied and caught Friday's right fist just as it was about to strike. At the same moment, and using the last bit of strength and will she had, she bought her pinned left arm around, ignoring the pain and sensation of ripping flesh in her arm as it ripped the spear loose from the wall and allowed her to smash her left fist into Steve's mouth.

Steve winced at the blow, and with both his arms taken with trying to pin Friday's right arm he gave Friday a smile, extended his jaw and in a single bite, bit her left hand off.

'Gotcha bastard!' she thought as Steve spat out large amount of her blood from his mouth. She glanced across, at the ragged stump where more blood was pouring out.

"Looks as though you won't last much longer. One last thing to do before I let you die," Steve gave Friday a single fingered salute and walked out of the room.

It was the hardest fight of her life to stay conscious. Oblivion beckoned and several times she felt herself start to drift off. Oh, how she desired sleep, just to relax for a few seconds. At the last moment she dragged herself back into the now. She had one more chance to live, it was a mighty risk, but she would be dead in minutes anyway. Steve had told her that her changeling organ was useless, only able to stop a small amount of bleeding. Putting every last remaining bit of strength she imagined the key arteries that had been severed in the fight. Slowly, almost cell by cell she managed to use her changeling organ to stop the blood flow in them, at every moment expecting to collapse and die. It was the only basic amount, but would extend the time she had left before she inevitably bled to death.

'Steve' walked in carrying a small tin can that said 'lentils' on it. "This is a special item of shopping I got the other day, you remember. The one I said was put in by mistake! I'm sure you know what it contains. I wanted you to live just long enough to see millions die!"

The plague! Steve was going to release it.

Steve walked closer to her, standing no more than three feet away. He held the can in his right hand and he concentrated on his left hand. It slowly changed shape into a single six inch long bone dagger.

"Goodbye Dr Bexley, "Steve said and positioned the can so he could make a clean stab at the lid with his left hand.

Suddenly and without warning Steve collapsed to the floor, the unopened can rolling away from him. "BITCH!" he screamed as Friday saw convulsions wrack his body, pink fluid was starting to run from his nose.

"Consider that my Divorce Mother fucker!" Friday spat as her vision slowly faded to black.

32. The Death of Dreams
---------------------------------

"How is she doing doctor?" The words drifted thru Friday's mind as though they came from somewhere else. The voice was vaguely familiar though.

"Same as the last week Sir."

"Christ! She looks a mess."

"It's a complete miracle she lived at all," the voices drifted in and out of Friday's mind and she quieted herself down to drift back to the darkness she'd been so rudely interrupted from.

--- oo ---

"How is she doing doctor?" The words drifted thru Friday's mind as though they came from somewhere else. The voice was vaguely familiar though.

"Same as the last two weeks Sir."

"At least the wounds are healing over. A lot of the bruising will go down in a few days though"

"I still don't know how she even survived," the voices drifted in and out of Friday's mind and she quieted herself down to drift back to the darkness she'd been so rudely interrupted from.

--- oo ---

"How is she doing doctor?" The words drifted thru Friday's mind as though they came from somewhere else. The voice was vaguely familiar though.

"Same as the last three weeks Sir."

"I see the bruising is going down. It looks as though everything else is healing up. Any news on the prosthetic?"

Friday heard the beep, beep of the ECG Machine, and the darkness suddenly changed into a blurry red.

"Heinlein! She's coming round!" The voice sounded excited.

Friday tried to open her eyes, but her left one wouldn't work right. She was in some kind of hospital ward. A blurred face was looking at her from beside the bed. She ached all over, and her breathing sounded almost asthmatic.

"Heinlein?" She whispered, her throat was dry and she could hardly speak.

The face nodded, "You gave us quite a shock. You're in a secure wing of a military hospital. It's going to be fine."

"Water, " She gasped. The blurriness was fading, like a camera slowly coming into focus.

A few seconds later, Dr Adams gently placed a small ice cube on her tongue and she relished the small drops of cold water trickling down her sandpaper throat.

"How am I?" Friday whispered. Her vision had now returned to almost normal. Inside the room Heinlein was sitting down by her bed, still wearing his gray suit and looking for all the world like a caring Father figure. Standing behind him was Doctor Adams. She saw Heinlein glance towards Doctor Adams.

"You want the long version or short version?" she asked.

"Don't care," Friday said and slumped back down on the pillow.

The man she had loved had tried to kill her!

"You sustained substantial injuries to your heart and lungs. Most likely bought on by a significant stab wound to them and repeated piercing by your six broken ribs. You have large puncture wounds in both legs and arms, and in your shoulders, and X-rays showed you had significant bruising on your back, head and throat. You also lost around four pints of blood and needed an immediate transfusion. The good news is that those are all on the mend and should heal in a few months. We also managed to re-attach your hand after some pretty complicated micro surgery, you won't ever have full movement in it but it's a hell of a lot better than the alternatives."

Friday glanced down at her left hand, it was ringed with a larger number of close butterfly stitches. She tried to move a finger, and with a bit off effort did so. "And the bad news?"

"We were unable to restore the sight in your eye. It was too badly damaged in by whatever it was that got in there, you'll also have some scarring on your face due to the stuff in your eye leaking out and corroding your face."

Friday just nodded she felt numb inside. Steve had tried to kill her!

"As you know we can replace the eye with a prosthetic one. A transplant is out of the question I'm afraid. Your optic nerve is ruined. It'll take a few weeks to get one that matches your other eye so you'll have to wear an eye patch until then. Tests on your blood have confirmed the presence of an organism that seems to be doing all kinds of weird stuff to your metabolism, do you know anything about it?" Dr Adams queried.

"I'll take over from here Doctor. Friday, what the hell has been going on!" Heinlein ordered.

"How much do you know?" Steve had hated her!

"We know you were infected by some kind of bacteria that would kill you if used your changeling organ. We also know the Guild Faction forced you to try and kill the President and UN Guild leader Kismet on pain of releasing a devastating plague.. Why the hell didn't you tell us this was going on?"

"I did. I told the President, the only man I trusted to do it right. The plague..." Friday's voice tailed off.

"So you didn't trust me enough to go thru proper channels!" Heinlein's voice rose in anger. He then took a deep breath and calmed down, "The plague is safely stored away for analysis. It didn't get out."

"Thank God. Heinlein, it was Steve. He was a Guild changeling, one of the advanced kind. I... I loved him!" Friday wanted to cry, but the tears didn't come.

"Why don't you tell us what went on. We'll then fill in what we know," Heinlein suggested. He must be under orders to be nice to me, Friday thought.

"After I was infected and told what to do, the Guild Faction agent, Steve dropped me off home. I knew they would be watching me and had no doubt bugged every phone and room in the house. I also didn't know how far we had been compromised. The only way, the only safe way was to go direct. I called the President on a secure cell phone he gave me ages ago and told him of my plan," Friday explained.

Heinlein nodded, "The false video feed etc? I have to admit, most impressive!"

"The plan went like clockwork, the trace could only follow a direction not a distance, so we all thought the Guild Faction was based in an industrial centre as every safe house they had, had been either in offices or warehouses. The trace line went thru several housing areas, including our own. Since it was on the way, I asked if I could get Steve to help. After all he knew how they worked nearly as well as I did. How did the major firefight go?"

Heinlein shook his head, "Half of Delta force burst in and found zip. We still have no idea where their main base of operations is."

"Fuck!" They were still out there!

"So then what happened?" Heinlein asked.

"I arrived back home and walked into the living room. Steve then stabbed me in the back with a three foot long blade arm. With no changeling abilities I had no chance! He threw me around like a rag doll, before trying to crucify me so that I would bleed to death. He wanted me alive just long enough to watch him release the plague. I had one final throw of the dice. I had to somehow infect him with the same disease I have and hope he'd use his changeling organ again. Using my last fractions of strength I punched him in the mouth. He was so busy trying to restrain my other arm, he reacted in the way I hoped he would. In biting my hand off he got some of my blood inside his mouth and so into him. He was about to puncture the can when he collapsed on the ground and started to be affected. That's the last I knew."

The man she loved had hated her.

Heinlein nodded, "That fits in with what we found. Your neighbors heard a major fight going on, with lots of screaming and crashes. They called the police who arrived in time to save your life. The room was a mess, with your blood everywhere and the interior walls smashed to pieces. They saw what remained of Steve on the floor and you pinned to the wall covered in dried blood. After seeing the remains of Steve, they then called in the FBI, who then called us. In the meantime you were rushed to a local hospital where we were waiting to take over your treatment. You were given an immediate blood transfusion, which saved your life and as soon as you were stable were taken here. You've been here three weeks."

The man she loved had used her!

"What now?" Friday asked. Inside she didn't know what to feel. The fact she felt nothing at all was worse than feeling sorrow or loss. It was shock kicking in. Over the next few days it would really hit her.

The man she had wanted to marry had betrayed her.

"We've got hundreds of people on this. All you need to do is rest and get better. If we need anything we'll come and ask," Heinlein replied compassionately. He put a comforting hand on Friday's leg, "I know I've been really hard on you and in most cases rightly so. But I wouldn't wish what just happened to you on anyone. Fact is without you, millions would have died and the country would be in chaos. When you first came to me, I thought you arrogant, petulant and thoroughly worthy of your reputation. I thought you hadn't changed a bit and were just stringing us along. I, I want to say I was wrong about you. You have a few faults we need to work on, such as going off and doing your own thing, but we'll work on that. In the meantime you concentrate on getting rested up. We'll talk more later."

Friday was staggered, had Heinlein just apologized to her? "Sir, I think I know how Steve got passed the changeling tests, he probably used a reservoir of normal blood he could pump to where the test was..."

"Friday, leave it. We've got people from all areas working on it now. Don't worry your secret is still safe, it's Steve their concentrating on. As I said, focus on getting better, and that's an order."

"Yes sir," Friday replied.

The man she loved tried to kill millions.

--- oo ---

Friday lay awake in her bed, watching the second hand's slow inexorable progress around the clock face. She'd tried to turn the TV at the end of her bed on, but it wasn't working yet. So she just lay there, thinking and brooding.

A nurse came in every few hours to change her dressing and examine her ruined eye. Her brain wasn't yet used to only having monocular vision and kept telling her to open her other eye. 'Was this how Cathline felt after I had thrown her at the mercy of the Guild?' Yes it probably was, she thought.

She still felt numb inside, she recognized the feeling from just after Matthew had jilted her. Her heart had been seared to the core, every route in and out had been damaged by Steve's betrayal. The worst of it was she knew that as the days drifted on she would start to feel again, the emotions would come back and then all hell would break loose inside her. It was as inevitable as the sun coming up.

"The man I loved tried to kill me," She whispered to herself. Saying out loud didn't make her feel anything new, just the dull ache of shock.

A few things were obvious now, Steve's reluctance to talk about his past, his feelings about being captured and even the little things like refusing salami or bacon all pointed to something being up. Other things clicked into place now, refusing to have his shoulder looked at when she had injured it in that play fight of theirs. The frequent disappearances and Steve's vanishing act when she was being 'interviewed' by his parents now made more sense as he wouldn't want to be around in case he was asked a question about past relationships or his childhood. There was only so much someone could learn from interrogation.

Even more telling was the way he had handled himself in that first mock fight of theirs. It had taken almost all her effort to combat him, his reaction times and speed was not normal. She could move so fast that to most people she was just a blur, but Steve made her look positively pedestrian. He'd said he could tell where she was going to strike because she glanced at it first. That may have been true, but on reflection that shouldn't have been enough to cause her any problems. She should have seen it earlier, but her feelings for him had got in the way. Her eagerness for love and acceptance had nearly killed her! A few things still didn't add up and that frustrated her. She'd have to mull on it later.

They were only little things, but she felt as though she should have picked them up. Still he had passed every psych eval they gave him, but as she had proved that was no big deal. It was clear what had happened to the real Steve Grayson, captured by the Guild they must have eventually broken him and extracted every detail of his life from him, they would then kill him. The real Steve Grayson was dead.

She had been forced to kill the man she loved. Again the thought didn't even register an emotion.

The other major question of the day was where in hell did another changeling come from? They had assumed that Hassan had used every one he had in his attempt to start a war a few months ago. Friday thought for a few moments, remembering what Steve had said to her in the ambulance about left over equipment and technology. Obviously Steve was one of those left over weapons that had been known only in the minds of an elite and loyal few. That begged the question, what else had Hassan left behind? How many more genetic weapons had he ordered to be created?

Her mind flicked back to her fight with Steve. She weighed at her peak nearly 250lb's and Steve had flung her around as though she were 25! The spear trick had been a new one on her, and other things Steve had done pointed to a worrying fact. The changeling organ inside Steve was more advanced than her own!

She let herself drift off to sleep, forcing herself not to think of what had gone on.

--- oo ---

The next day bought very little change in her mood. She was still numb and unfeeling inside as if all her feeling had been buried so deep by trauma she felt as though she would never find them again.

Dr Adams walked in, carrying a clipboard with her notes on, "Morning Elizabeth. I note from the monitors that you didn't sleep much last night. To be expected of course. Do you want anything to help you sleep?"

Friday shook her head, "No thanks Beverly. Thanks for all you've done, I really appreciate it! You'll have to come and visit when I'm not half dead. Us Phi Beta Kappa's have to stick together!"

Dr Adams shook her head, "After the incident you had at college with my now husband I don't that would be appropriate do you? Besides, didn't they kick you out? Anyway, back to more pressing matters. The lesions on your face look better, and you've got physio for your hand in a couple of hours. We need to start getting your muscle tone back. Oh and Heinlein's here to see you."

"Beverly," Friday asked.

"Dr Adams please."

"Dr Adams, can I have a mirror. I..I need to see the damage. It's ok I won't freak out or anything, I.. I just need to know?" Friday asked. She had no idea what she looked like. Just how badly had she been injured?

"I guess its ok. I'll have to stay here, it's procedure," Dr Adams walked over to a nearby drawer and pulled out a small circular mirror and handed it to Friday.

Friday turned the mirror over and stared at her ruined face. Her left eye was covered with a black eye patch, with a white bandage behind it. Running down her cheek were several long deep scars where the acid had bit into her face. Bracing herself she lifted the eye patch and gasped as a bloodied, lidless eye socket stared back at her. The eye and eye lid had been dissolved away by the acid, leaving only a hollow space. She put the mirror down and turned away not willing to look at it anymore.

"Elizabeth, I'm truly sorry," Dr Adams said quietly and retrieved the mirror.

"It's ok. It was just a shock that's all. It'll look better once it's all healed, "she tried to get the image out of her mind, "What does Heinlein want?"

"I'm not sure. Some good news though," Dr Adam's gestured to a TV that had been wheeled in to face her bed, "The TV's now working, so at least you won't have to spend all day being bored stiff."

"That's something, thanks. You done here?"

Dr Adams nodded, "Yeah I'll be back in an hour or so to give you a full check. Just press the call button if you need anything. I'll send Heinlein in shall I?"

"Please," Was this just a social call, or did he have some news?

Friday watched Dr Adams walk out of the room and waited for Heinlein to walk back in.

A minute or so later, Heinlein walked in. This time he was dressed in a dark blue suit, and holding a briefcase, "Morning Friday, can I take seat?"

"Morning sir, sure." She replied.

Heinlein sat down on the chair next to her bed and got himself comfortable. "Just to bring you up to speed, as yet we've not been able to locate the Guild Faction stronghold but we do know it's in the Washington Area, so it's just a matter of time. The President and Guild Leader Kismet's meeting went off ok, and no doubt we'll know the results of that any day now, but I do know that it entails their agents getting access to our resources. That should help pin down other cells and round up anyone else here. When you're well enough to travel I do have a mission for you."

Friday gestured at her face and body, "That could be a while!"

"It's a mission of a personal nature. All you need to be able to do is sit in a plane and car. Because of the nature of Steve's death and of the threat to national security we've not yet informed Steve's family. We would like you to do it."

Friday understood the reason for the request. She WAS family and hearing it come from her would soften the blow and also provide her with people to talk to. In short it would help both of them, "I'll go," she replied quietly.

"Thank you. I'm still finding it hard to believe he fooled us for so long. We had procedures in place to stop this ever happening again and yet it nearly did!" Heinlein confessed.

This was the first time Friday had seen behind the hard professional mask that Heinlein wore while at work. "Yes it nearly did. But we got away with it. What do the media know?"

"Not a lot, only that there was a false alarm and that the Whitehouse was evacuated. Oh I'm sure it'll come out eventually, but we'll take steps to make sure it does in a controlled way. I was talking from a professional perspective. We were told there was a traitor somewhere, and I honestly thought it was you. Even from day one I thought you had an ulterior motive, in fact I'm sure you still do. But I now know whatever it is, it's not in conflict with mine."

"So you're not going to shoot me, fire a cruise missile or lob a smart bomb at me?" Friday said with a smile, remembering her debrief session a few months back.

Heinlein gave a rare smile, "Not today. Take it easy Friday."

"One last thing before you go, would you mind turning the TV on," Friday asked.

"Sure, any station?"

"Cartoons. I need something brain numbing," Friday suggested.

Heinlein got up and switched the TV on, after a few moments found Cartoon Network, "This what you wanted?" he asked.

Friday watched the TV screen as Wile-E Coyote strapped an ACME rocket to his back and lit the fuse in order to blast off towards a rapidly retreating road runner. The rocket didn't ignite, so the Coyote stood back up to relight the rocket. Seconds later the rocket whooshed into the air, and exploded in a large firework display sending the Coyote hurtling down into a large canyon.

Friday smiled, remembering her previous thoughts on the subject some months back, "You know why the Coyote never gets the road runner?" she asked Heinlein.

"No?" Heinlein said, not knowing what to make of the question.

"The failure of the Coyote to catch the roadrunner isn't one of planning or resources; it's assuming the hardware works as advertised," then a revelation hit her.

"FUCK, I've been stupid. Elizabeth you prize idiot!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Sorry?" Heinlein offered.

"I've made the same mistake as the Coyote. I assumed that my hardware worked the same way as the Guild's did! Heinlein, I can't believe I've been so slow!"

Heinlein shook his head, "Why?"

Steve told me, the disease I have would trigger the failsafe in my changeling organ if I used it too much. I was still in shock at the time so it didn't register. I assumed my hardware worked the same as theirs did! The only changeling organ's the Guild ever had access to was their own ones not mine. They all had failsafe's built in so that if one was ever captured it would self destruct. Heinlein don't you see!" Friday's relief and excitement grew by the moment.

"See what?"

Friday couldn't hide her delight, "The disease they created for me is flawed. On a Guild changeling it's a devastating weapon. But I'm different I don't have a failsafe for it to trigger. The bacterium has no hold over me! I was convinced I was in danger because it made me feel fragile and as though I was going to fall apart at any moment. But it has no final payload; no matter what I do it can't kill me, because unlike the Guild I have no self destruct failsafe for it to work on!"

Heinlein's face showed momentary shock and then it regained its composure, "So you can heal yourself at any time after all!"

"I think so. Get Doctor Adams in here to set up the monitors, We'll do it a step at a time!" Friday could hardly contain her excitement.

The half hour it took to set up the monitors to Friday went painfully slowly. Heartbeat, respiration, brain activity monitoring systems were all configured and tested.

"Ready?" Friday asked Dr Adams.

"Yeah, all looking ok, what are we going to try first?" Dr Adams asked.

"Something small and simple such as the scarring on my face, if anything looks remotely dangerous let me know right away," Friday asked.

Dr Adams nodded, "Ready when you are."

Friday concentrated hard and imagined her face clear of the wounds that had been inflicted on it, she felt her flesh start to change and reform, "Arrghh!" A stabbing pain shot thru her face as the last of the changes finished.

"You ok?" Heinlein asked worriedly.

The pain subsided, "Yeah I think so. Dr Adams what happened?"

Dr Adams glanced at the readouts, "Both heart rate and blood pressure shot up. Your brain activity went thru the roof, although I guess that's expected. However your face no shows none of the scarring it did before."

"Good," Friday breathed in relief, "I think what happened is that the Bacteria inside me produced the toxins as expected and that caused the pain. But with no failsafe to trigger that's all they did. It hurt like hell but I'm ready to try something else."

"How about your hand. It's already pretty much attached as it would be?" Dr Adams suggested.

Friday thought for a moment, it was a good suggestion "sounds a good idea to me. Ready, same as before."

Friday closed her eyes and imagined the nerves, bone and flesh in her hand reconnecting to themselves, and the skin then healing to make it look as good as new. Pain shot thru her hand once more as she felt the changes ripple thru her hand.

She looked down at her restored left hand and flexed her fingers, "Good as new, although the pain gets worse the more I change.

"Same as before, heart rate and blood pressure rocket up. Your temperature rises to nearly 40C too!" Dr Adams stated.

"Odd. I it shouldn't go up that much. I feel like it's taking a whole lot more energy to do the changes though," She wiped a bead of sweat from her face.

Dr Adams studied the read outs, "Why's that?"

Friday stepped thru exactly what happened to her, "I think it's because I'm fighting the bacteria as well as forcing the change. It's taking up more energy to do that, give me a couple of weeks in front of the right equipment and I should be able to manufacture a cure. Let's try my eye?"

"You sure you're up to this?" Heinlein asked.

Friday nodded, "It seems to be working. Beverly, ready?"

Dr Adams nodded.

The pain shot across Friday's whole body and she cried out as her whole eye felt on fire. It was so great she thought she would pass out, moments later it subsided again. She experimentally lifted the eye patch and a few seconds her vision had returned. "I think I'll call it a day for now," she breathed.

"Amazing! So you now have full use of your eye? Heinlein looked on shocked. He'd not seen her change before.

Friday nodded, she was sweating all over, and the effort had nearly exhausted her. "I'll do the rest of me a bit at a time over the next day or so", For sure the disease they had inflicted on her wouldn't kill her, but it was debilitating. She was certain a full body change would make her pass out under the pain. At least she was back to some semblance of physical normality.

The man she loved made her dead inside!

--- oo ---

Over the next two days Friday agonizingly healed her ribs, heart and lungs under the close watch of Dr Adams, but no matter how much she healed her body, her heart still felt like stone. It had been nearly four weeks since Steve's death, surely she should been feeling something by now? She decided the best course of action was to let her body tell her when it was time to mourn.

"Ready to go? your bags are in the car" Heinlein asked.

Friday nodded, "Yeah did you get the things I asked for from home?"

Heinlein nodded, "That's all been sorted out. They'll be at the safe house for you. Your flight leaves this afternoon. If you need anything, a counselor, anyone just ask!"

Friday turned away and walked to her hand luggage "I'll be ok. I just don't feel up to going back home. Too many memories, at least being with Steve's parents will help. They're the closest thing I have to family. How long have I got off?"

"As long as you need. Which reminds me," Heinlein reached into his briefcase and hand her an envelope with the Presidential seal on it.

"What is it?" Friday asked.

"No idea. Just that it's from President Roberts. The instructions I had was that it was for your eyes only, "Heinlein closed his briefcase and stood up ready to go.

Friday opened the envelope took out a sheet of headed note paper. "Dr Bexley

I can't put into words how much this country and I owe you once again, and I wish to thank you personally. I know you have a painful duty ahead of you, but I have some news that will make it easier.

In accordance to my promise to you, we have obtained a blood sample from Jane Stephens and it's currently undergoing a whole series of tests at an advanced research facility in the Nevada Desert.

I'm told preliminary results indicate it's a bacterial infection that is designed to trigger a huge dose of toxins into the baby at the onset of labor, as yet we have had no progress in finding a cure and we hope you will be able to join the research team as soon as possible. I am informed that an experimental protein imaging system and a pathogen simulator are due in the next week and that you'll know what to do with them."

Friday paused for a moment, "YESS!" she exclaimed and found to her surprise tears in her eyes. Maybe she wasn't so dead inside! The equipment they had got for her would decrease the time she needed to cure Kat by a factor of four, especially the pathogen simulator which could simulate the effects of a pathogen and its cure within hours as opposed to days. She'd be able to tell what worked and what didn't within a few hours. With a whole team behind her, she should be able to save her daughter with plenty of time to spare!

"Good news?" Heinlein asked.

Friday tucked the letter in her hand luggage. She was tempted to share it with anyone who asked, but prudence stopped her. Admitting baby Elizabeth's link to her to Heinlein would be a mistake, even to the new and improved compassionate one, "Very! The President wants to thank me personally."

"You'd better go," Heinlein said.

Friday nodded, hardly unable to contain her joy, in all probability her daughter would live!

--- oo ---

Friday landed at Pierre airport and took the time to spend a few minutes in the net café there to delete the email from the queue on the mail server. She'd managed it get to it just in time, another day and it would have been sent and her insurance would have been useless. She picked a rental car up from the Hertz depot and started the 30 odd mile drive to Steve's hometown. The journey had been a tiring one, and she was looking forward to meeting Alex, Sandy and Jack again. Even though she bought terrible news, she felt safe there. They would all mourn Steve together, as a family. Family, she'd not known what that was like for so long.

She pulled off the interstate towards Steve's parent's house. What would they say when she told them the news? Would they try and be brave for her, or would they sit down quietly in shock. As part of her medical training she'd been trained to give bad news to families and she was sure this would stand her in good stead. Maybe that was what she was waiting for, to share in their grief so that hers could break thru the seared, cold block of stone of her heart.

I killed the man I loved, she thought as she drove past Steve's school.

She turned into Steve's parent's street and stopped in the middle of road in shock. Outside of Steve's parent's house was a police car and it was surrounded by yellow tape, "No!" She cried out, and leapt out of the car.

She ran towards the house, every step bringing the nightmare closer. The door was open and another police officer walked out, "NOOOO!" She screamed. It couldn't be. It had to be a wrong address had to be!

She wiped away the tears that were now streaming out of her eyes, and continued to run the last fifty yards to the house. "NO. You BASTARDS NO!" she sobbed.

She saw a police officer had noticed her and was preparing to stop her. She slowed down and glanced inside the open door and she could see no sign of Alex, Jack or Sandy. The yellow police investigation tape was stretched around the entire house and the reality hit home. She spotted the bright lights of the Christmas decorations they'd put up around the windows, in just a few days she and Steve were due to fly out to spend Christmas here, her first family Christmas since the death of her own parents..

"Sorry Ma'am you can't go in," The police officer held out an arm to prevent Friday getting past.

"What happened?" Friday said thru a fresh set of tears.

"And you are?" The police officer demanded.

"Lieutenant Friday Carrell, US Airforce. Their Daughter in law," Friday wiped her red eyes clear of tears and rummaged in her pocket for her drivers license.

The police officer took her license, checked it and seeing Friday's tear streaked face replied, "I'm sorry. The Grayson's were killed last night. Triple murder. Do you know anything about it?" He then handed the license back to her.

She put her license back in her pocket, "No. I've just off the plane from Pierre. What happened?"

"Neither of them showed for work this morning and they didn't respond to phone calls so Jack Grayson's boss called us to check it out. We broke in and found all three dead. I'm sorry."

"How did they die?" Friday asked swallowing back a sob. In her heart of hearts she knew the answer.

"All three had their throats slit, and we found some Hashish by each one. We think it could be drug related. Hell of a thing to happen near Christmas," The officer commented.

"The fucking bastards! The evil fucking bastards!" Friday fell to the floor sobbing, ignoring the looks of the police officers.

A few moments later she felt a hand on her shoulder, "Do you know who killed them?"

Friday , still sobbing nodded. "It's not a drug killing. Take this number down and ask for Heinlein. Tell him what happened here and also that Lt Friday Carrell knows. I can wait here if you like."

"Please, we need to confirm your connection with the family. We list one next of kin, Steve Grayson," The officer stated.

"My late husband," Saying the words choked her up. "I came to tell them he had been killed."

"Fucking hell!" The police officer swore bitterly.

"Please, make the call to this number. He'll confirm everything," Friday reeled off Heinlein's cell phone number and turned away to look at the house, 'Such a happy home, such good people' Feeling fresh tears on her face brought the realization that her heart had cracked and the grieving process had started, would it ever be able to stop?.

The police officer was on the phone, and judging by the number of "Sir's" in the conversation was talking to Heinlein.

She looked at the tape, gently flapping in the wind. The message the Guild Faction had sent to her was obvious 'we're still here!'

There was a sick logic to their actions, Steve's family were loose ends that could be used to trace other stuff back to him; but in her heart of hearts she knew why they were killed and why now.

Even though she had taken down their leader, their rage at her had not subsided. They would not stop until they had destroyed her utterly and taken away from her every means of support and comfort they could. Were Matthew, Kat and Cathline now in danger?

They had the means and money to protect themselves, and the Guild Faction had their revenge all lined up. Baby Elizabeth's death. She knew what the Guild Faction would do, they would wait and see if Baby Elizabeth died and how they took it. If their grief was unsatisfactory, then they would no doubt kill them all!

The fact remained they had murdered a family just to get at her!

The police officer interrupted her thoughts, "Lieutenant Carrell, Heinlein wants to speak to you."

Friday nodded and took the phone, "Friday here sir."

"Friday, I am most terribly sorry. I had no idea," Heinlein's voice was quiet and solemn.

"Thanks, what did you tell the police?" Friday asked.

"I'm sending someone down to liaise with them. With all due respect, that person isn't you."

"Sir!" Friday protested. She wanted to nail the fucker who'd done this to her!

"I know you want to return the favor, but you need time to heal, time to mourn. I've lost too many good agents who acted without thinking things thru. Friday, get on a plane and get back here as soon as you can. Consider that an order!" Heinlein's voice changed to that of a superior giving a junior officer a direct command.

Heinlein had a point. She needed time to get back to full strength, time to get to work saving her daughter's life and time to grieve properly. "Yes Sir, I'll just square things here and get right back."

"I've been told I need to get back," Friday said wearily to the police officer, and handed his phone back, "Anything you need me to do here?"

"Are you going to be ok?" The police officer asked.

"Yes, I'll be fine," Friday lied. The truth was, she found herself barely able to contain the grief and loss welling up inside her.

The policeman studied Friday's face and could see the pain and loss she felt clearly on her face, "I don't think we need to detain you any longer Lieutenant, I guess you have a million things to sort out. You won't be able to gain access to the house until the New Year, as it's now a crime scene. How do we get hold of you?"

"Use the same number I gave you. Heinlein will get a message to me."

They had killed an entire family because of her. The man she loved had used her!

After saying goodbye Friday drove past the park that Steve and her had walked only a few ago, tearfully she looked at the series of railings she and he had tried to leap over, memories of that night flooded thru her mind. He had told her he loved her, and she had believed him, oh how she had believed him!

--- oo ---

On landing at Dulles, Friday got into her rental car and drove back to the safe house. The numbing oblivion of non feeling had come back. Delayed shock from hearing the news that the Guild Faction had killed Steve's entire family.

In an almost dazed state she drove back to the safe house, she was just about to climb into bed when her cell phone rang. That was the last thing she needed! She trudged over to it and answered it, "Friday Carrell."

"Hello Ms Carrell. My name is Doctor Amy Smith and I've been asked to talk to you about the blood sample from a Mrs. Jane Stephens. I realize it's late but this won't take long."

All thoughts of tiredness and bed left her, "That's ok. Take as long as you like!" Please be good news she prayed to any one that could listen. This was the only thing good and pure she now had left in the world.

"We've got the equipment that was ordered and it's all going ok. But we could really use your help to help speed the process up. I've asked for a car to pick you up tomorrow morning at around 10am and that will take you to a private jet at Dulles. You'll be able to catch up on the way over. All being well I'll see you tomorrow. Here's my number if you need anything! Got a pen handy?" Doctor Smith asked.

"It's ok I don't need one. Go ahead," Friday listened as Dr Smith reeled off a cell phone number, "Ok gottit 7654 are the last digits?"

"That's right! see you tomorrow," Dr Smith said cheerfully and put the phone down.

Friday flopped down on the bed and vowed to vote for President Roberts forever. They had the equipment, they had the blood sample and her daughter would live!

Only one complication remained, she had to kill the Guild Faction before baby Elizabeth's birth, as sure as hell they would kill everyone else she held dear if she failed.

She pulled the duvet up to her neck and closed her eyes, ready to try and get some badly needed rest when the phone rang again.

"Go AWAY!" she shouted at the phone.

The phone rang a couple more time, "Now what!" she picked it up and after noting it was Heinlein. She pressed the answer button and answered in a tone she'd used at the diner. "Friday Carrell speaking, your friendly neighborhood psychopath, how can I maim you?" Fatigue must be making her feel a little kooky, or maybe that was another 'lizzy-ism she'd picked up?

"Not funny Friday. Sorry to call you at this late hour, but you need to get to the office now. I can't explain on an unencrypted link. Our new address is the following address. Got a pen?"

Friday sighed. "I don't need one sir, where is it?"

"Eidetic memory now I remember. Anyway, here it is," Heinlein reeled off the address.

"Got it. I'll see you within the hour," Friday hung up, gave a deep sigh and headed towards her wardrobe. Tonight was defiantly a black pants and Red T-shirt night!

A forty minute cab drive later Friday was standing outside of a tall office block, she managed to avoid blocking the revolving door and reported to the lone Security guard at the reception desk, "Miss Friday Carrell to see Heinlein," she said and flashed her ID card.

The guard didn't look up, and just waved her thru. So much for top security she thought. But then her sharp eyes spotted several hidden cameras in the ceiling ventilation grill. No doubt the real security was hidden away to surprise any potential threat. She walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.

Heinlein waiting for her just outside the elevator was proof that she had been watched "Evening Friday. Please follow me."

Friday did so and followed Heinlein along several winding corridors, "No stairs?" she commented.

"That's right. The Elevator is the only way up or down. There's a helipad on the roof if we need to evac. It's just in here," Heinlein quickly punched in an eight digit code into a codepad, but not fast enough to stop Friday remembering it.

Heinlein opened the door into a large conference room. Sitting down in a chair next to a video projector and a laptop was a small, balding man in a blue suit. He was fiddling nervously with a pale yellow tie.

"Friday meet Doctor.."

"Albert Banks." Friday finished off. She'd met him several years ago at the same conference as she'd met Dr Abramovich. He was bacteriologist, a good one.

"Of course, you probably know of him. As you may know Dr Banks is a senior researcher at one of our CDC centers. He's been analyzing the various bacteria's that have come into our possession. He called me today with some startling news. Friday please take a seat," Heinlein walked over and sat opposite to Dr Banks.

It was understandable they would use Dr Banks. He was a world expert on all kinds of diseases, both manmade and natural. His skills lay in not in Genetic manipulation as hers and Dr Abramovich's did, but in understanding why a disease operated as it did and how to prevent it, if required. She reminded herself to get him drafted into the Team in the Nevada Desert looking into saving her daughter.

Friday walked over, sat on a chair and casually placed her feet on the table. Heinlein gave her a disapproving look but let it go. She'd wondered how long the new and improved Heinlein would last, not long apparently.

Dr Banks, stood up and turned on the projector and clicked on the PowerPoint presentation on his laptop. He took a sip of water and started to speak, "Evening Miss Carrell. Heinlein, asked me here to report our findings, unfortunately my clearance doesn't allow me to know where the samples came from or to what purpose they were going to be used, so I can only report on the facts."

"I see, please carry on doctor," Friday replied. It must be something radical to drag her here so late at night.

Dr Banks continued, "We were given two samples four weeks ago and warned to abide by maximum isolation protocols. We were asked to analyze the possible effects of exposure to these pathogens and also the method of their spread and incubation periods. In order to ascertain the exact effects we had to completely map the genome of both, which as I'm sure know takes time."

It was at times like this she wished she could reveal who she was. She hated being talked to in the medical and biological form of kiddy speak. "Yes, proceed."

Dr Banks pressed a key on his laptop, and a picture of a fat peanut shaped Bacterium appeared on screen, "This little beauty is clearly man made. The interesting thing about it is, is that it's based on Pneumonia. But and here's the interesting thing. The chemical it excretes has a unique effect. Within seconds of inhalation, it causes the host body to radically rewrite its genetic code, to that of a random pattern. Its effects are similar to how we postulate how the Bexley DNA modification drug could operate."

Friday took her feet off the table and leaned forward, "As far as I remember that didn't need a crude biological vector to operate, and the genetic changes were a lot more targeted. This is the genetic equivalent of carpet bombing, whereas hers was like a precision strike," how dare he compare this massively inferior work to hers!

"True. Now we come to the second sample, this one," Dr Banks pressed a button on his laptop and another image appeared," we were told was extremely dangerous so it took a lot longer to work with. What we found was remarkable."

Friday took a long hard look, "It's the same bacterium sorry, scratch that it's NEARLY the same, but it seems whole strands of DNA are missing. You can even see how linear the Muropeptides now are. Dr Banks correct me if I'm wrong, but this looks like a blank sheet to me?"

Dr Banks raised an eyebrow and glanced at Heinlein," Am I authorized to know Miss Carrell's credentials?"

Heinlein shook his head, "Not unless she chooses to. Why?"

"She seems to have a grasp of some advanced theory. If you had told me, this could have gone much quicker," Dr Banks protested.

"Miss Carrell here may know what you are talking about, but I don't. Please keep it simple. Friday, what the hell is a blank sheet?" Heinlein ordered.

Friday smiled, she was starting to enjoy this. "A blank sheet is just what it sounds like. Theoretically you create all the basics of a living bacterium, but leave out this bits that tell it what to do, and how to act. You can then make a number of different behaviors and drop them into the generic you just made."

Dr Banks continued, "In other words, you create one bug that does nothing except live. You can then make your 'payload' do anything you like. It saves a lot of work, because you don't need to create the whole thing from scratch each time. If I remember right a Russian Research team published something on this a while back. Abraham, no that's not right Abramovich, that's it! Dr Yuri Abramovich headed up the team."

Friday stared at the Bacteria on the screen and then compared it to the image she'd seen in Russia. It was the same!

"Heinlein! We need to talk, in private!" She said urgently.

Heinlein nodded, "Dr Banks, the coffee machine is just down the hall. Would you mind? This won't take long."

"Ok," Dr Banks agreed and left the room.

As soon as he had gone, Friday jumped up and walked to the screen, "Heinlein. This is what I saw in Russia," She pointed urgently at the screen once more, "Remember how I said it was some strain of Pneumonia. The Guild Faction used Abramovich's work to create all this!"

Heinlein sat bolt upright, "Since we have Abramovich himself in a safe place then that must mean that The Russian Mafia sold his work to the Guild Faction, who then just developed these plug in payloads. If I understood Dr Banks correctly, then the second sample is just a harmless do nothing germ?"

"Holy shit!" Friday exclaimed, "What was the second sample?" She already knew the answer, but needed it confirmed. She could hardly believe it.

"The second sample was the one found in the can that Steve was trying to open," Heinlein's voice tailed off as he realized what Friday just had.

"There was no plague! The worst that would happen is that the Bacteria would drift around for a while and maybe cause the odd chest infection. I fucking knew there was something wrong with their plan. The Bastards were bluffing!" Friday swore.

Heinlein sat back in his chair and put his hands together, he was clearly thinking what to do next, "The Guild Faction needs host nations to keep it safe and sound, if they committed such an atrocity they would be outcasts everywhere and unable to function, also if the plague was as lethal as they said then it could endanger the whole human race, and not even the Guild Faction would be that foolish."

Friday thought back, "They showed me footage of a guy being subjected to it as proof they had it. In a way they did have proof, but something that kills within seconds is useless as a global weapon, people die too quickly to spread it! In reality, they only wanted to get me, the President and the Guild leader. Fuck em! "

"It also means we now have the link between why the Russian Mafia had Abramovich and who they were going to sell his services to. Good work Friday!"

"Thank you sir, There's one other thing. You can't just create a drop in payload for this Bacteria. You'd need someone pretty good to do that. Can we run a search to see if any Guild Scientists are still at large?" Friday asked.

Heinlein nodded, "I'll get some people on it and we'll talk on this later. Go and tell Dr Banks he can come back in would you please."

Friday nodded, "Sure," She got up from the table, her mind a whirl. Why would Steve die trying to open the can in front of her? He either expected it to kill millions, or more likely he wanted her in her to last moments to feel total and complete failure.

The man she loved hated her!

She found Dr Banks sipping a coffee in a drop in area, "its ok we're all done with the secret stuff now."

"Thanks," Dr Banks said, standing up, "Can I go back in now?"

Friday nodded, "Sure It's this way."

"Miss Carrell, mind if I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead, I'm not sure if I'll be able to answer it," Friday replied.

Dr Banks looked around nervously "If you pardon my forthrightness, you seem very young to know what you do. Where did you study?" he asked awkwardly.

"I'm older than I look. If you have to know I left college a few years back and worked under Dr Elizabeth Bexley and Cathline Richards at TGen until..." Friday couldn't resist giving Dr Banks something to worry about or Heinlein for that matter. Since all records of who had worked for her at TGen had been classified to ensure that none of them could be leveraged into rebuilding her DNA system then there was no way Dr Banks could find out if she had or had not worked for TGen.

"Ah yes that would explain your defense of Dr Bexley's work. Remarkable breakthrough. Just a shame it got used in the way it did. I nearly joined her team you know?" Dr Banks took a sip of his coffee.

I didn't see your resume, she thought! "Dr Bexley was some scientist, she pushed everyone has hard as she could, but herself even harder. You ever think we'll re-discover how she did it? Only she and her section managers had the whole picture, we only got to see our own fragments of work."

Dr Banks shook his head," I doubt it. To be honest I wouldn't want us to. Those changelings she created were just evil, not even human. The thought of what they did nearly makes me weep."

Friday thought of her own changeling organ and the sacrifices to her humanity she had made to employ the use of it. Dr Banks was right, she wasn't human any more. Human beings mourned when their loved ones died. Apart from the occasional twinge she felt nothing, "We'd better get back in."

Dr Banks opened the door and they both walked in, taking their original seats.

"Ready?" Heinlein asked.

Dr Banks nodded, "As I was saying the second sample, instead of being lethal, is actually harmless and appears to be based upon work postulated by Dr Yuri Abramovich. I'm sure if he were still around he could help us a great deal."

"Which is why Friday we need you to run an errand for us," Heinlein asked.

"The only other person who could possibly help is Dr Bruce Green of the University of New South Wales in Sydney , Australia. He's an expert on the 'blank sheet' theory and his expertise will allow us to determine how easy it would be to create a 'plug in payload' for this bacteria.

Heinlein bent down, picked up a heavy looking metal briefcase and put it on top of the conference table, "In here are two samples of the bacteria, plus Dr Bank's notes and findings. I need you to take this to Dr Green in Australia and fill him in on the details, except of course the classified parts."

"Ok, seems simple enough!"

"You will, however be required to be cuffed to the briefcase at all times. We can't let this get into the wrong hands and you can't let it out of your sight! If the contents of this case escaped a lot of people could die," Heinlein explained.

"So why not fly it over in a military transport?" Friday asked.

"Because we need you to stay in Australia and assist Dr Green in whatever he needs you to do," Heinlein answered.

That would mean missing Steve's parent's funeral. She HAD to be there, "Sir about the personal matter?"

"You can come back for that, the agency will need a representative there and I'm sure you'll do your usual professional job under difficult circumstances," Heinlein replied softly.

"When do I leave?" The idea of losing herself in research, well away from the horrors she had endured. Even spending Christmas there appealed. She had nowhere else to go.

"Tonight!"

Oh fuck! She was needed in Nevada to help cure Kat! Damn! "Sir, can I request more leave, on personal grounds?"

Heinlein smiled, "That's one of the reasons why you're being sent there. You'll have plenty of chance for R&R, do some diving and start to forget about the past few weeks. It'll do you good."

How in hell was she going to be in two places at once? She needed to start work on curing Kat, otherwise none of this would mean a damn, and yet Heinlein was sending her off to the other side of the world. With any luck her secondment to Dr Green would only last a couple of weeks. She'd make damn sure it didn't last any longer! In the mean time she had the gleam of an idea that would mean she wouldn't lose much time. In addition Heinlein had a point the rest would do her good, it would give her time to re-start the grieving process, get away from the horrors of the past few months and when she came back she'd be in a better state to help Kat.

"What about my luggage and passport?" She asked.

"We'll forward it to the airport before you fly out, any other questions?" Heinlein asked.

"None that I can think of," Friday held out her hands as if being placed under arrest.

Heinlein gave Friday a look that she correctly interpreted to mean 'I bet the feds would have loved to do that to you!' and he secured a lock and chain around the handle of the briefcase and Friday's left wrist. "We will give the key to the pilot of the aircraft. You will not be permitted to take the briefcase off unless you need to. Understand!"

Friday nodded, the case already felt awkward and heavy.

"There's a cab waiting for you, take the elevator down and I'll see you when Dr Green says you can go. Good luck" Heinlein gestured for her to leave

That'll be in about two weeks then, Friday thought.

--- oo ---

An hour later, the cab Heinlein had called for her, dropped her off at the airport which at this time of night was pretty much deserted. She was getting a few second glances as people saw that she had a briefcase chained to her wrist, and in fact she was finding it right royal pain in the ass. Heinlein was right however, if it got stolen then the sample in there could kill a lot of people.

She checked the time, it was just past 1am, she hated doing it but she wouldn't get another chance. Awkwardly, she used her left hand to dial Dr Smith. The phone rang for nearly a minute before a sleep and annoyed voice answered "What!"

"Dr Smith. This is Friday Carrell. I've had to go to Australia for two weeks and so won't be able come and assist just yet. I'm at the airport about to board a plane so won't have another chance for 20 hours."

"Friday, it's middle of!" Dr Smith replied, half asleep.

"I know. Don't talk, just listen and write this down. Then you can go back to bed," Friday heard the sound of things being moved and shifted around as Dr Smith tried to find a pen.

"Got one, now what!" was the grumpy reply.

"I want you to call the CDC and request that Dr Albert Banks come in my stead until I can get back. He'll be a massive help," Friday explained although she was sure that Dr Banks wouldn't like being drafted.

"Dr Banks? I'm sure the CDC will block.." Dr Smith was now waking up.

"If they do, just go over their heads. You know what to do," Friday replied. For sure the CDC would kick up a fuss, but anything and anyone the President had promised, and that included the CDC.

"Yeah ok. I'll get him. Anything else?"

"Ask Dr Banks to bring with him the two additional samples he has. When he gets there ask him to start working on a generic cure, for all three pathogens. I'm certain they're all related," By now Friday was convinced that the bacteria she been infected with and the one they were using to kill baby Elizabeth all shared the same 'blank sheet' Pneumonia she'd seen that evening. If Dr Banks could help work on something that could attack and kill the 'blank sheet' it could save a whole lot of time and effort.

A still only really just awake Dr Smith replied, "Ok, got that."

"That's it. You'd better cancel the car and send one to Dr Banks instead. I'll catch you in two weeks or so. Sleep tight."

"Night," There was a click and the phone went dead.

She had really, really wanted to be there finding the cure both to Kat and herself but she couldn't disobey Heinlein without him knowing about baby Elizabeth and she still didn't trust him not to report her to those who still wanted her dead or arrested.

Sure was sure President Roberts suspected but he had no proof, no one had. For all he knew she was desperate to save a friend from the grief and pain of losing a child, a friend he also owed big time. For the moment the secret of Baby Elizabeth's origins had to be protected as much as her own life. Besides, the team she had working on it were some of the best she could think of. It was just a shame that Dr Abramovich was still being debriefed and still in a safe house somewhere.

She glanced up on hearing her name being called to the information desk. No doubt her luggage and passport had just turned up.

--- oo ---

She would, she decided to try and sleep as much as possible on the flight over. Firstly it would ensure she could be useful from day one and secondly she would have less time to dwell on things. At least the 747-438 she was on was new and was well equipped. If she couldn't sleep she would have lots to do. Since using any part of her changeling abilities was still extremely painful she couldn't really use it to get to sleep. Pain was a poor sleep aid.

A small, blonde flight attendant showed her to her seat, on the aisle towards the centre of the aircraft. She angled the briefcase such that it didn't pull on her arm too much, nor would it take away much of her leg room.

She heard juvenile voices behind her and something bashed her seat from behind sending a jolt into her back. That's all she needed!

The seats next to her were taken by what looked to be a young couple, as they ignored her and concentrated on their own conversations. Another jolt hit her from behind. This was going to be a long flight.

--- oo ---

The five hours it took to land for refueling at LA seemed to drag on forever. They only had a two hour stop over, so she decided to stay where she was. The family behind her had wisely decided to take a breath of fresh air, as had the couple next to her.

Friday was sorely tempted to ask for the key, so she could go to the bathroom but she couldn't be fussed. She felt as thought she was a prisoner, tied to the case forever. But she daren't got outside in case anyone should try and steal it. If the bacteria got out in a confined space such as an aircraft, then nearly 400 people could die.

Two hours later, the aircraft fully refueled the passengers returned and after a short taxi into position they were on their way again.

Within an hour the kids who had been kicking the back of her seat were asleep and the couple next to her had drifted off, the woman's head resting against her partners shoulder.

'Lucky bitch' Friday thought glancing over at them. She had been unable to get any rest at all.

Still unable to get to sleep, Friday decided to put the head phones Quantas had provided for her and browse the movie channels for something to pass the time.

Three boring movies later, she managed to take a peep out of her nearest window. The lack of lights and anything of note meant that they had now cleared the Coastal USA and was now somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. She did a mental calculation, they were eleven flying hours into the journey, which by her reckoning put her slap bang in the middle of the Pacific probably a few hundred miles away from Apia. She was finally about to drift off to sleep, when she spotted a flight attendant methodically going from seat to seat and asking the passengers a question.

Since the attendant didn't have a trolley with her, something must be up. Within a matter of moments the blonde attendant was asking the people in front "Are you a doctor?"

Then it was her turn, "Excuse me Miss, are you a Doctor?"

Friday nearly said no. Heinlein had nearly shot her for helping and breaking Presidential orders. But over the Pacific he had no hold over her, and besides how in hell was he going to know. "Yes I am, what's the problem?"

"A man back in aisle 60 is having breathing difficulties; we've given him his heart medicine as his wife instructed but its not having much effect. Can you help?"

"I'll help. Aisle 60 right. Would you mind asking the pilot for the key to this," Friday gestured to her briefcase, "and keeping an eye over it while I help the patient."

The flight attendant nodded, and pressed the call button above Friday's head. "I'll go send someone to get it. Passenger in 35H requests a key for a briefcase she has been entrusted with."

Thirty seconds later the flight attendant was joined by another who whispered something to the first one. "I'm sorry Miss, but somehow the key wasn't passed to us. We can go have another look."

Dammit! Friday breathed, "I'll try and wriggle out of it. My wrists are fairly thin and I might able to do it. Would you mind going to find me some washing up liquid, anything greasy will do."

"Sure". The flight attendants went off to find what she had asked for.

Thru gritted teeth, Friday thinned her wrist and hand out so she could pull the chain off, over her hand. The pain didn't stop until the flight attendant came back with a small tub of petroleum jelly.

"It's ok. I managed it, please stay here and don't let it out of your sight!" Friday ordered and stood up, relieved to be free of the case for a short while at least.

"He's in aisle 60, seat D,"

"Thanks," Friday walked slowly towards the back of the aircraft where a man was sitting in his seat, and breathing heavily. He was being attended to by another flight attendant and presumably his wife.

"I'm the doctor, what's up?" Friday asked the Flight attendant.

"It's my husband, doctor. He's had heart trouble for a while and he complained of tingling in his arm. We've given him his medicine but that's not working how it should," The wife looked up at her expectantly. Friday had seen that look a thousand times before, 'please save him!'

Friday turned to the flight attendant, "What supplies do you have on board?"

"The usual."

"Got any Chlorthalidone?" Friday asked.

"What's that?" The flight attendant asked.

"It prevents Heart Attacks. You might like to look for Plavix, valsartan or anything labeled ACE inhibitor," Friday ordered.

"How do you spell vals-sar-tan?" The flight attendant asked.

"Never mind, where do you keep it?" Friday said, a little frustrated. Didn't they train flight attendants on this kind of thing?

The flight attendant pointed to the rear of the aircraft. "Towards the back of the plane, there's a curtained area for staff only. It's in a cupboard there."

Friday nodded, "Keep him calm, I'll be back in a few moments." She walked off to the rear of the plane, parted the curtains and rummaged around in the top cupboard that contained a variety of treatments.

Suddenly there was an explosion followed by a massive jolt and it shook the entire aircraft. This was more than turbulence! Friday was pitched forward as the whole plane dived vertically downwards. The passengers were screaming as without warning the passenger compartment explosively decompressed. Friday wrapped her arm around a fixed table leg and was flung this way and that as all the air was sucked from around her. She felt as though at any time she would be swept away as the aircraft span out of control and hurtled downwards.

One thing was obvious she had to get out of here. She was fighting for breath, it was now clear the passenger compartment had fully decompressed and the temperature had dropped to below freezing. She had only seconds before the airframe broke up under the stress of the random lurching and high speed changes of direction it was being subjected to. She let go of the table leg and clutching onto anything she could hang to make her way to the main passenger compartment.

It was complete chaos, the screaming of the surviving passengers clinging on to everything they could, mixed with the groaning stress of the fuselage made a sound that she could only describe of being that of doom. The aircraft lurched once more and started to flat spin, throwing her off her feet. One of the rear doors had been blown off under the explosive decompression, she had no choice. If she stayed on the plane she would die as it either broke up in mid air or exploded. Ignoring the sounds of panic and the freezing cold she fought her way to the door, hanging onto anything should could. Taking a last look around her she leapt into the icy darkness.

Instantly she was flung over the tail of the 747and barely missed smashing into its leading edge. She hurtled and span downwards as gravity took over, accelerating her to over 150 mph within a few moments. Seconds later the sky lit up in a bright orange and red fireball, as stricken 747 blew up scattering debris all over the sky. She now had a larger problem, somehow she had to survive a fall into water from 30,000 feet. By now her eyes were nearly frozen and her lungs were gasping for every breath. 'Ok, first things first. Slow the rate of descent' She had a little under two minutes before she hit the water like a human bullet.

Freezing cold, and her fingers barely able to move, she ripped her Red T shirt off and closed her arms to her sides. That only increased her speed, but it allowed her to do something crucial.

Trying her hardest not to cry out in pain, she grew long thick webs of skin between her arms and her hips. If she had left her arms out, then the velocity would have ripped the skin to shreds as it grew. She opened her arms a little bit and felt a huge tug upwards as the air caught her 'wings'. She opened them a little more and felt herself slow down a lot more. She still had no way of controlling direction, but that didn't matter. Her arms were now fully out stretched and she guess the skin under them made her look like some kind of large bat.

With her eyes still closed and under agonizing pain Friday grew a set of transparent scales over each eye, to protect herself against the freezing air and her still considerable velocity. Now being able to see clearly she glanced down at the ocean below. She felt a searing pain in her leg, something from the plane at hit her. There was no time to heal it. She needed a way to get out from under 300 tons of shattered 747 that was about to come raining down all over her.

By putting her legs together she found she could vary the angle of her descent and by opening or closing an arm could control her pitch. She glanced down at the Ocean, now she could see the wave tops, glinting in the moonlight. Time to think about impact!

Forcing herself not to cry out as the pain swept all over body, she grew her set of gills on the back of her neck, that should stop her from drowning as she plunged deep into the Pacific. Now to slow down some more, Friday opened her legs to their full extent and did the same with her arms. She tried to maintain a controlled glide, gradually losing altitude as she did so, but it was too hard to control. Ten seconds later, she slammed legs first into the Ocean at over 60 Mph.

She felt both her femurs smash on impact and she sank into the depths of the cold dark water. Her gills provided oxygen to her body, but with two broken legs it was hard to swim to the surface once more. There was however another option.

She undid her leather pants and took off her panties, letting them drift into the inky blackness. She concentrated hard, waiting for the pain that was sure to follow. She felt an agonizing crunch has her legs were forced together and her toes started to elongate out into long a tail shape. A long flap of skin grew between the joins of her legs and within moments had covered her legs. More skin, grew between her toes and that changed into a fishes fins. Green scales agonizingly formed on the skin of her legs and within moments a full fish's tail had formed.

Friday just drifted, semi conscious because of the effort involved. She had no idea of the time or her location but after what seemed hours felt able to move again, with a flick of her new tail she swam to the surface.

About a two hundred yards from where she was, the sea was on fire. Obviously Fuel from the 747 hadn't all burnt and now formed a ring of fire where the passenger jet had gone down. Smoke drifted into the dawn sky, blending into the reds and oranges of the sunset. She dove down under the water once more and swam towards where the airliner had crashed. Maybe there was something left she could use.

Something bumped into her underwater and she turned to see what it was. The decapitated head of a passenger swirled around her, its body long gone, but its eyes were open in the rictus of death and shock. As her eyes adapted to the gloom she saw several other bodies and body parts drifting slowly down from where they had hit the water. The water had taken on a red tinge, blood. Other shapes were drifting down, sections of wing, engine and fuselage. At the extreme of her vision she saw a large fish shape, with a large dorsal fin, and another and yet another. Sharks! The shape found the body of a young woman, lunged at it and took a huge chunk out of her torso.

They had obviously been attracted to the sheer amount of blood in the water and were in a feeding frenzy. She had to get out of here!

She turned to swim away, but before she could react felt a massive pain in her tail, a large shark, over 10 feet long drifted past, with blood drifting out of it's mouth. Hardly daring to look down she saw her horror that a two foot section of her tail had been bitten clean away. Another shark was closing in, attracted by the smell of fresh blood.

Ignoring the pain of the change she stopped the bleeding from her tailfin and turned her hand into a familiar killing blade, 'Come on bastard, second helpings will cost!' she thought and tried to position herself upright. The Shark lunged at her and she deftly moved to one side and plunged her blade arm in between its gill slits. She felt the blade cut into the weak flesh near the brain and the shark just drifted away, slowly dying and streaming more blood into the water. That would attract more attention for sure.

Friday did the only thing she could, she swam as fast as her injuries would allow her and hoped that no more sharks would follow.

After she had swam for an hour she could finally breathe a sigh of relief and head towards the surface. The sun was now fully up and the temperature was rising. The wind had died down, leaving only gentle waves. She could see no sign of any dry land, or anyway to find shelter. For that matter she had no idea of where she was. She ducked her head back into the water to investigate the injury to her tail. For sure she'd been lucky but there was a two feet wide bite mark where her thighs would have been. Another foot further down and the shark would have bitten her in two!

She felt exhausted. It would take a couple of days to heal fully, she needed a place to rest up where she wouldn't be attacked or eaten. Predators could detect an injured animal for miles around and they weren't she mused, to know the difference between a Friday and a fish.

Staying on the surface was a bad idea. The flickering pattern her swishing tail made in the water as she used it to stay upright would attract Sharks, Barracuda or other predatory fish. There was nothing for it, until she found try land she would have to live an aquatic existence, surfacing only to eat or check her course. The crash site, although the best place for rescue was also the most dangerous. For the next few days it would be predator and scavenger heaven.

After taking her bearings she dived back down into the cool blue waters and gently swam south west, gently making sure that she made no rapid movements. Unlike the coral reefs where she had dived before, fish were few and far between here. The open ocean belonged to the larger fish that could traverse long distances with seemingly little effort. By heading south west she'd hit an Island sooner or later.

The immediate danger gone for the moment she reflected back on the explosion that had nearly killed her and had killed around 400 innocent passengers and crew. Aircraft didn't just explode, even after an engine failure. That meant only one thing. A bomb had exploded on board and had destroyed the 747.

She stopped swimming for a moment as the realization hit her. Unless there had been a massive coincidence the bomb could have only been one thing. The briefcase Heinlein had given her!

He had told her to keep it close to her at all times, arranged so it wouldn't be examined and didn't provide her a key in which to unlock it. The only thing that that had saved her was a passenger with heart problems and her willingness to disobey orders. If she hadn't have responded, the bomb would have gone off, no doubt killing her, with the resultant 747 crash making sure.

But why would Heinlein want her dead? If the CIA had wanted her killed they wouldn't plant a bomb on a passenger liner.

The answer was now obvious, he was part of the Guild Faction mission to kill her, her daughter, President Roberts and the UN Guild leader. Another thought crossed her mind. The Guild never sent only one person to do a job. What was it she had told Steve about the changelings' Two per government, 10 in total' What if Hassan had made two more? Two for the Guild itself! Two to look after things in case he was attacked or deposed. Suddenly the penny dropped into place like the last piece of the jigsaw.

The Guild Faction was controlled by two changelings, their job was to reconstruct the Guild in anyway they could, two changelings to take revenge on those who had carried out the attacks on Hassan. She had killed one, Steve, and that meant Heinlein was the other! He had to be.

She gave a flick of her tail to prevent herself sinking. She reviewed things from the start, Heinlein had sent her to collect Steve from North Korea. Why?

That was an easy one. So that she could meet him. So who shot them down and why?

Answers came thick and fast. Disconnected threads, with only assumptions for answers now became clear. Her mind was working overtime piecing together every conversation over the last 7 months.

The North Koreans only wanted to scare them away and send a warning message to the US. That was why they had let them go! The Guild Faction had shot them down. Knowing that Steve and herself would survive the crash because of their changeling abilities. Being alone for a few hours, especially in a crisis situation would drive them closer together. It would form a bond between them, thus allowing Steve to start his mission in the right light.

Her 'marriage' to Steve had been Heinlein's idea. Obviously that served several purposes, firstly it allowed Steve to study the way she fought, the way she acted in any given situation and more importantly what she could and couldn't do. Steve also acted as a diversion, making it easy for her to fall in love with him, and therefore distract her from anything that would give them away.

They had cynically and methodically used her past, feelings of guilt and loneliness against her!

Out in here Ocean, away from any distractions the facts came became clear with cold, ruthless efficiency. She reflected on her second mission. Rescue Doctor Abramovich.

The realization hit her as painfully as the Shark bite had. Heinlein had said that Dr Abramovich was now at a safe house. She had rescued him, so that The Guild Faction could use him to develop the Bacteria they wanted to use to get at her and the others. In rescuing Dr Abramovich, she had delivered him right into the hands of the people she had thought she had saved him from!

The mission to recover the changeling organ was obvious. Abramovich needed a changeling organ sample to create the payload to the pathogen that coursed thru her bloodstream. That also accounted for why it didn't work on her. They had obtained a Guild changeling organ, not hers! They also probably knew in advance that Daryl was carrying the bullet they needed to shoot her with and also knew that he too was on a mission to recover it.

But why would Abramovich design such lethal Bacteria? Everything she knew about the man told her he would rather die than develop bio-weapons. That answer was little more subtle. If Heinlein had told him that the CIA suspected more changelings were around, and that they needed a weapon to deal with them then she was sure Abramovich would oblige. The lethal agent she was tasked with to deploy against the President and Kismet was as she had said before probably just a failed attempt to produce an Anti Changeling weapon. So what about the disease threatening baby Elizabeth's life? She could think of a number of lies that could be told to Abramovich, needing to kill an army of changelings before they were born, an aid to abortion, or even another accident. Whatever they had told him, they had used him to create horrific weapons.

She had already worked out why they blew the building up. If Heinlein or Steve had just stolen the bullet, then questions would be asked, questions they didn't want to answer. That also explained why apparently the Guild Faction failed to kill Heinlein. They needed to make it convincing enough to the CIA but not actually put Heinlein and Steve in any real danger.

They had used her to bring to them the pieces they needed to make the weapons to use against her.

She stopped swimming for a moment. They'd USED her! The evil fuckers had used her! She felt anger and fury swell up in her heart, but she quelled it as it would cloud her thinking. Another Jigsaw piece had just slotted in.

The missions they had sent her on for the Guild Faction were obvious. After giving them the tools and people to do what they wanted to do, they used her to start the rebuilding process. Get another commander in the form of Omar, increase their image and gain recruits by assassinating the Ambassador, obtain weapons in the form the deal they made in Syria. The reason why she was chosen was now obvious. They wanted her to know she had contributed to the re-arming of the Guild Faction, and therefore she would be indirectly responsible for all those they killed with those weapons. Yet another layer of guilt, shame and pain they hoped to heap upon her. Then came the pay dirt mission.

It had and would have taken Dr Abramovch months to come up with the appropriate bacteriological weapons to use against Kat, Her, President Roberts and Kismet. They had spent that time carefully setting her up for a devastating blow. She had fallen for Steve in a big way. Heinlein's abrasive attitude had had the effect of driving her and Steve closer together, while giving her the excuse not to notify the CIA proper. The set up was obvious to cause her as much pain, grief and humiliation as possible.

By now they knew her well enough to know that she would do anything to stop being blamed for millions of deaths, so they had told her that they would release a devastating plague if she didn't obey. They knew she had to comply, even though it meant a life sentence for her. A life sentence that would separate her from Steve forever, thus making her life a living hell of loneliness and regret.

She decided to surface and take her bearings and after a few minutes was soon breathing air once more. Still the same featureless ocean, but south west was still the best direction. That had been the way the 747 was flying. She felt a pang of hunger; she'd need to go fishing soon.

She felt well enough to try and repair some of the shark bite, if she wasn't careful the wound would get infected and then she'd be in trouble. Concentrating hard she grew a new set of fish scales over the wound. This time, with no one around her she could release the pain she felt as a single long piercing scream.

She dived back down again, to continue on her way. She would regrow the muscle and flesh a bit at a time. Although the overall scheme was clear, she still had a few nagging questions.

She suspected Heinlein had been able to dodge the changeling tests in the way Steve had. By storing uncontaminated blood under the skin and making sure it was pumped to where the needle was going to go. Whenever Steve couldn't be there to give her Guild Faction missions, such as when they separated at Pierre airport Heinlein would stand in.

She was really glad she had kept Heinlein and Steve out of the loop on so much, Omar's fate, her not killing the ambassador and most important of all, the work a whole team of people were doing to help save her daughter.

She spotted a shoal of small fish just up ahead, trying to ignore the pain, she turned her left hand into a small narrow fish spear and swam at full speed towards the shoal, slashing and lunging her spear as she did so. For a few seconds it was a mad chase, with fish darting in every direction in panic, but for her efforts, she managed to kill five fish and collected them up before their thrashing could alert any predators in the area.

She swam to the surface and one after the other, bit the heads and tails off the fish so that she could get to the flesh inside. After eating the rest of the fish, she felt better, it wasn't quite the high carb diet her body craved, but it would sustain her for a few hours more.

She made a neat pirouette underwater and looked back in the direction she had came come. She estimated that she'd traveled around 40 miles so far, and more then likely had ten times that amount to go before she hit any real land. She decided to surface again and risk repairing the injury to her tail. She needed to move faster!

Friday drifted, semi conscious on the surface, the energy required and pain produced by fully growing back the muscle, bone and flesh had taken a toll on her. It was night when she finally felt able to move, but she decided to drift a little more. The night sky was pitch black and the air cooling and refreshing. She had hoped to catch a glimpse of the stars, to at least determine which hemisphere she was in.

She felt a spat of rain on her face, and another, and another. The wind was getting up and it was obvious a storm would soon be upon her. She opened her mouth wide, and relished the taste of fresh water now trickling inside. It wasn't much, but it was enough to refresh her a while.

She felt the waves start to get more aggressive and dove deeper to avoid the storm that would be soon raging above her.

There were a few questions and points that still remained open in her mind. Something's were obvious like how easily Heinlein had been able to hit her after her rebellion at the bombing, but a few were less tangible. Such as when she was helping people was he mad at her because she was breaking orders, or mad at her because she was saving lives?

There was an old adage; one who knows the enemy and knows himself will not be in danger in a hundred battles." Two questions remained, did she know the real Heinlein and did she really know herself. The other part of the quote went "One who does not know the enemy and does not know himself will be in danger in every battle," however, drifting almost silently under the water, thousands of miles away the battle seemed remote, distant and almost immaterial.

Another one of the obvious questions was why didn't one of the changelings just go in and do the job themselves. The answer was as equally obvious, firstly they wanted to use her, to get at her in revenge for what she had done. Secondly any attack on the President or Guild leader would mean certain death for the assassin. It was far better to use her, than be captured, interrogated or killed themselves. The reasons why they wanted them dead were blindingly obvious. Herself, Baby Elizabeth and President Roberts were for revenge. Kismet's was so they could walk in and take over the UN Guild as well as their own splinter Faction.

But why do things this way at all, why not just kill them directly using a rifle, a suicide bomb or even poison? The answer was a subtle one, but key to bringing her closer to understanding how Heinlein thought. It was all about honor. To kill President Roberts, Kismet or her with a simple bullet would be admitting to the world that the once mighty Guild had resorted to methods used by common terrorists. There was also the fact that the protection around them was trained day in and day out to deal with conventional threats. Against an unconventional attack they would be a lot more vulnerable.

So what had she learned so far? The only time Heinlein and her had physically fought he'd used brute force, lacking in finesse. Her verbal sparring with him showed that although he excelled at pre-planned operations, anything out of the ordinary or unexpected rattled him.

Of the two changelings Steve was probably the more dangerous, he seemed to relish the unconventional, and attack with lethal precision. However, that being the case why didn't he just decapitate her on his first blow? It would have been easy to do, God knows she'd done it enough. Steve hadn't done so because he wanted see her suffer, debilitate her with that first almost fatal strike and then play with her like a cat does with an injured mouse. Steve's error had been in not killing her on the first strike.

She glanced upwards to see the water churning above her head. The wind and storm where in now full force, and occasionally she could see the water light up as a lightning bolt struck it. When the time came to take on Heinlein and his Guild Faction cell she would be the thunder and lightning, they wouldn't know the direction or timing of her attack, and unlike her late 'husband' she would not hold back from delivering the killing blow.

She swam on, increasing speed slightly but stopping now and again to marvel at some new sight or event. How wondrous the ocean was! She could spent a lifetime here and not see everything!

--- oo ---

On the fourth day of swimming she surfaced to set her direction once more, that and to act on a hunch. The water she had been swimming in had gotten distinctly warmer meaning that somewhere ahead the Ocean floor was now rising from the abyss of darkness thousands of feet below her. She looked around, but to her disappointment failed to see solid ground. She was about to dive under once more, when a flicker of a shadow on the water attracted her attention. She glanced up to see three or four gulls just floating on the warm air above her. With a large flick of tail she pushed herself two thirds out of the water, looking in the direction of the gulls. Far ahead of her in the distance was a small set of cumulus clouds.

Seconds later she splashed back into the water and changed course to head towards the clouds. 'Land Ho' she thought with an inward smile and speed up, with any luck she'd be there in a few hours.

33. Fulcrum
----------------

It was mid afternoon when Friday first saw the start of a reef, its distinctive shape and pleasant warm water lifted her spirits. She surfaced again and viewed her target. No more than a lump of rock, in the middle of an endless expanse of water. She estimated its size to be no more than a mile across by two miles long. What it did have was a nice sandy beach, a large hill comprised of what looked like solidified lava and a small interior forest of coconut and palm trees.

She carefully swam closer, using her hands more than tail to get past the razor sharp coral. Ten minutes later she had hauled herself onto the sandy beach, but had left her tail in the warm water. The scales would soon dry out in the sun and would soon become painful. She'd learnt that lesson a long time ago in the Indian Ocean. She'd initially thought of it as a humiliating exile, but over time the savage beauty of the Ocean had won her heart all over again. It was HER ocean!

She rested for a while, before deciding to take a look around the coast of the island. Some kind of sea cave would be ideal. She could sleep in there, safe from the elements and sharks.

She had nearly completed an entire circuit of the island when her sharp eyes noted a small cove, carved deep in the craggy solidified lava of the core of the island. Two minutes of swimming later, she swam into a small cave, about ten yards wide and five high. Best of all was a smooth 'beach' of rock where the water had eroded away the crags. A long wide beam of light streamed in from a hole somewhere in the roof above. Perfect!

Hauling herself up by her arms she lay on the rocky beach and breathed a sigh of relief. Safe at last!

A drip of water hit her square in the face, fresh water! Another drip hit her mouth! She slid off the beach back into the water once more, and searched around until she found what she wanted, a dead crab's shell. Holding it in her mouth and climbed back onto the 'beach' once more and positioned the empty crab shell directly under the drips. Within an hour it should provide her with the fresh water her body craved.

She sat up and looked around at her resting place, her tail gently swishing in the calm water of the pool below. It was better than she could have hoped for. Safely protected from the elements, and with a supply of fresh water it was what her tired body so desperately needed.

"Now all I need is a volleyball to talk to," she commented to herself with a wry smile.

Feelings of fatigue swept over her, she had been on the move for nearly five days with only what fish she could catch and what water she could either absorb or drink from the infrequent rainstorms. She lay down on the beach again, slipping her long slender green tail into the water, closed her eyes and started to think her self to sleep

Her mind went inexorably back the Guild Faction attack on her and all the other things they had planned to do. She still felt strangely numb over it, but the fact remained that they had spent months, maybe a year planning this just to target her. Hundreds of people were dead, just because of their insatiable lust for revenge!

"That sound familiar? Now you know what it feels like! All they did was learn from us!" Lizzy's voice taunted her from the back of her mind.

"I wondered when YOU would turn up!" Friday heard her own voice snap. In her minds eye she couldn't see Lizzy anywhere, but she could feel her malevolence stalking her, like a rapist following its victim. Evil was how else she could have described it.

"Oh I've been here all along. It's just that you've been too busy making a fool out of us to notice!" She tried to open her eyes, but they stayed shut. Obviously her body wanted her mind to sort itself out.

"Fool? I don't think so," Friday replied angrily.

"Fool! Let's run a catalog of events shall we. I told you not to get involved with Steve. I told you he would betray us. But no, you went running off and like an infatuated school girl you fell in love with him didn't you!"

Lizzy's words stung! "I loved him. But that was a strength. It proved I still had the capability to love again."

Lizzy mocked, "Yes, but it very nearly killed us, nearly bought back the monster that so many had sacrificed themselves to kill and it did kill, hundreds. Those passengers on the 747 for starters. They'd be happily enjoying their Christmas dinners with their families by now if not for you. Steve's family would still be alive and you wouldn't be stuck in a damp wet cave hundreds of miles from civilization. Oh, by the way Merry Christmas!"

Lizzy's mocking, spiteful words echoed around the cave. With some effort she managed to open her eyes. This was serious, previously she'd only heard Lizzy in her mind, now Lizzy was actually speaking aloud thru her. It had been nearly a week since her last Stelazine medication. No wonder Lizzy was stronger than ever! Was she going insane? What's more, her every mocking, taunting word was like a stab in the heart.

"Gone quiet now haven't you. Admit it! Your desire for love and acceptance is your biggest weakness. It left you vulnerable to being used, to being tossed away like an empty can. Your weakness nearly killed us, the President, your 'daughter' and your supposed friends."

"What do you want? If it's to tell me what I already know then you're doing a great job. Why the fuck do you think I've put a hard shell around my heart to block out the pain. I refuse to let the same old emotions take over again!" Friday snapped.

"And yet here they are and here I am again..." Lizzy let the sentence hang.

"No. I have the final veto, not you!" Friday's voice echoed around the cave. Am I insane? She thought.

"Do you? How come you can't turn that raven black hair of yours back into copper red again? How come you found yourself attracted to women again? You loved that little dirty dancing routine you did with the blonde and brunette in that night club didn't you? That was more than just a way of getting rid of that guy's attention? Admit it!"

"So? Your point?" Friday stated.

"My point is quite simple. You're not the little miss nice you like to think you are. Your will, the control is yours, but I own your body and sexual desires. You loved fucking Steve that last time, when there were no holds barred, no rules. You could dominate him as you saw fit. Don't lie to yourself, the idea of fucking someone male or female in such a brutal way turns you on more than you can or dare admit. My only regret is that you didn't let me kill him when I had the chance!"

Flashes of that night flickered in Friday's mind. Lizzy was right! She had let her take control of how she looked, dressed and screwed. Lizzy had taken more ground than she had ever realized. Question was did she let her do so willingly?

"See! Oh how I enjoyed seeing you swaggering around as though you were the most lethal woman on the planet. You liked it too, admit it! You liked what Steve called you, Goth chick/ vampire style mass murderer/ psycho revenge killer from hell ' wasn't it? You enjoy being thought of as dangerous, as someone to be wary of. HAH! You're about as dangerous as Mrs. Andrew's pet poodle which lived next door to Mom and Dad! The world didn't know what deadly was until I showed up!" The pride and arrogance in Lizzy's voice was obvious to Friday and it annoyed the hell out of her.

Friday had had enough of this, "I'm as dangerous as my conscience will allow. I refuse to let innocents die. You couldn't care less so long as it fitted your purpose!"

"Conscience? Now that's an ambiguous term if I ever heard it. So how many people did I kill, with no conscience and how many did you kill with your lofty ideals of morality and duty, fourteen million wasn't it?" Friday could almost feel Lizzy's sneer of contempt.

Friday ignored the barbed comment, "So what would you have done?"

"Y'know that's the first wisdom you've shown since you grew that fishes tail of yours."

Friday ignored the jibe and let Lizzy carry on. Better to wait until she had a chance of arguing back. The worrying thing was that all that Lizzy said was undeniably true! Had she once more, missed something that Lizzy had not?

Lizzy continued, "Firstly. I would never have allowed myself to get so close to Steve. It was clear from day one that Heinlein was out to get us. Within the first month I would have killed Heinlein or at least put him in a position where he had to resign. With Steve being just a business partner and Heinlein sidelined or dead then we'd have been able to see this coming a lot sooner. You were blinded, unable to see the lethal threat before it nearly killed us. Also, I would never have done all this pining away after a baby who you're not even going to give birth to!"

"Bitch! She's my daughter!" Friday snapped.

"Biologically yes, but not in any other way. Is she kicking and wriggling away in your womb? Will you be there for her first word, or first step? Will you be there to see her face at Christmas and Birthdays? Or will you take her to school, congratulate her on how brilliant she is or even be there to comfort her when she falls. No, you're no more a mother to her than someone who donates an egg to use in IVF! You're not a parent, just a source of genetic material!"

"Go away. I hate you!" Friday snapped tearfully. Lizzy's last tirade had snapped her heart in two. Elizabeth WAS her daughter.

"Was saving your egg really worth all the lives you took? You can't protect her from harm all of the time, no one can. You won't be there to stop the car that could knock her down, or the wave that sweeps her out to sea, or even the virus that could invade her very body and kill it! Face it; you can't be there all the time! So why bother, why waste all that time and lives for someone you cannot possibly protect! When it comes down to it, you could easily make another clone and carry it yourself. At least then you'd be a proper parent!"

"She's my daughter because I feel as though she's my daughter! In here," Friday pointed to her heart, "I know I can't protect her all of the time, but I do what I can for her. When she needs me the most, in her darkest hour I WILL be there for her. I'm her mother and nothing on heaven and earth will stop me!"

"And yet you want to give her up. Some parent you are!" Lizzy taunted.

Friday brushed away the tears that had formed in her eyes, "I don't want to give her up, and it breaks my heart to do it. She's my own flesh and blood for fucks sake. But I want to do what's best for her! Matthew and Kat are the best people to bring her up, not me. She'll be safe with them, they'll love her as their own. I'm not giving her up because I hate her, but because I love her!"

Lizzy's mocking voice echoed around the cave. "How very noble of you. You wanted to know what I would have done. I would have let her die. You don't owe Matthew and Kat anything, they could have handled her death and then all those people you killed just to save one life would still be alive. I would have followed Steve back to his base and then taken them on, or directed the military to where they were. You'd be a hero and none of this would have happened. Your problem is that you want to save everyone. You think that if you can save everyone it will wipe away the blood from your hands. It won't!"

Lizzy continued, "You feel responsible for the lives of everyone, when the cold reality is, is that no matter how hard you try you can't save them all. You knew deep down that taking down the Guild Faction required the sacrifice of a fetus whose only link to you was your shared DNA. But you ran away and now a 747 load of people and more are fish food!"

Anger and fury welled up inside Friday, inside she felt the cold finger of despair creeping over her. Was she truly insane? "I chose the most difficult route, because who else was going to! Doesn't my daughter deserve as much chance to live as anyone else?"

"There we go again, trying to save the world again. No amount of guilt carrying will bring back the fourteen million people you allowed to die! Face the fact that you can never atone for what you allowed to happen, never wash away the blood from your hands. The bloodstain on your name will be there forever and no cloned daughter of yours will ever remove it. You pretend that falling in love, saving a child or stopping the Guild Faction will somehow makes amends. Do you really think that if you went to someone's who child died in Tel-Aviv or Cairo and told them that since you've stopped the US President from being killed, or saved your daughters life it has somehow made amends. Will they say 'That's ok you're a good person now?" Let me tell you what they will do. They would find the nearest gun and blow your fucking head off!"

"I.. I have to try, otherwise what hope is there for me?" Friday sobbed.

"There is no hope for you at all," Lizzy stated in a matter of fact manner.

"You're' wrong!" Friday defiantly spat.

"Am I? When, in the past few years have you been happiest? Where did you finally think 'this is my place' " Lizzy asked?

Friday thought. She was happy with Steve, but there was always the shadow of her past hanging over them. There could only be one answer, "When I was in the Ocean, as a mermaid."

"Look down, that green fish tail of yours, sure isn't your legs now is it?"

Friday glanced down at the long, slender but still feminine looking fish tail that was idly swishing in the cool water.

Lizzy's voice took on conciliatory tone, "We have a second chance at that happiness. The whole world thinks you died in the crash. The team you assembled will no doubt find a cure for Kat. So what more is there for you to do? Oh yes, confront Heinlein and stop the Guild Faction. You killed them as threat. In a few months time all those time bombs you set will go off and no matter what he does the organization will die around him. You know that if you confront Heinlein he will kill you, he's too strong, too well trained and more deadly than you'll ever be!"

"Your point?" Friday asked.

"Stay here, live here. You know how much you love the freedom, how it brings out the best in you. Remember how you felt swimming to this island, how simple everything was and how much beauty there was all around you. No CIA, no terrorists, no need to kill anyone. Do the fish care that you're alive or killed people or the rocks, or the coral? You can't ever atone for what you did, so why even try? Stay in your beloved Ocean, be free."

Friday fell silent and looked around at her cave. Lizzy was right. They did think she was dead, the Guild Faction would be wiped out and her daughter would live. To stay here meant freedom from the complications of her life. There would be just her, she would see sights that no one had ever seen. Go places that only existed in the imagination. She could spent the rest of her considerable lifespan doing what she wanted to do, away from the accusing finger of history and maybe, just maybe in time away from the screams of her victims.

"Tempting isn't it?" Lizzy said in a soft voice that seemed to caress Friday's very heart.

"What's in it for you?" Friday asked. She'd never explored the Pacific before. It could take a hundred years!

"Continued existence. You need me! I've saved your life twice, and with no disrespect to you, you've hardly been on top of your game have you!"

So that's what the taunting was all about earlier, demonstrating to her that she needed Lizzy around. What Lizzy said was all correct and yet so, so wrong. She saw it, in a moment of clarity, born from the pain and grief of losing Steve and of the fury of being used for evil. She knew the path to follow!

"Lizzy, you know what your problem is," She heard her words echo around the cave as if she was lecturing her class.

"I'm evil, utterly selfish and totally amoral?" Lizzy proudly replied.

"Yes, but not just that. Your problem is that you refuse to face up to things. You try and change the circumstances around you to that of your will and if that doesn't work you destroy the obstacle to make your will happen. I never saw it until now but you've done that ever since you took me over when Matthew ran out on us. In fact you're no better than he was, worse even!"

Lizzy had fallen silent, 'Answer that hell bitch' Friday thought.

"Matthew jilts us, so instead of facing up to the fact he left and carrying on with life, you go all out to get him back. Alter his body, destroy his life and those of anyone who cared for us or him. So that he has only the one choice, come back to us! But he didn't did he! He chose a life of despair and hopelessness instead of us. He chose to face up to us, because he still had love inside him. Nothing you could do to him would shift him from that!"

"We loved him!" Lizzy spat back.

"Yes we did, but he loved someone else more. Part of me would love to stay here, live free and explore the ocean, but can't you see that's just running away. I love the ocean, I love the sensation of freedom and wonder it brings. But I love my daughter more. If I leave Heinlein alive he will come for her and my friends, and I love them more than the Ocean too! Falling in love with Steve wasn't a weakness it showed me the way! I have to go back because I CAN love, and because I know I CAN love I know I can endure!"

Friday paused for breath, the words came thick and fast "Because I can endure I know I will win. One day, I'll be free of how I feel. One day I'll meet someone, a man, and yes it will be a man that I can really love, that makes me feel me again. I refuse to throw away that future for a life with only my psychosis and fish for company. It might take twenty years but I know I can do this, Matthew and Kat showed me the way!"

"You'll still be dead inside, still have the deaths of millions on your conscience?" Lizzy pointed our, her voice sounding more desperate now.

Sheer determination and righteous anger swelled up inside her, "Yes I will, and as you point out nothing I can do or say can ever make amends. But listen to me on this you evil bitch from hell. I will see Heinlein die! I will see my daughter alive and I will love again! No power on earth or heaven or hell will be able to stand against me in this!"

Lizzy gave a long laugh, "That's my girl! I told you a few months ago we needed to reunite us again. I told you that we had a splintered soul. You've just taken a huge step in achieving that, although it's taken you too long to realize that is what we needed to do. "

Friday smiled, "You know you can never come back. You know that I will work to free my mind of you, permanently!"

"Of that I have no doubt. Just seeing the fire back in you is enough. For too long you've been losing your way. It's time to take back what's yours! It's time to stop being Mrs. Andrew's poodle and become who you were meant to be, time to become once more that unstoppable force of nature that is Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley. If you are not going to run, then you must fight. Fight for your daughter, Elizabeth. Fight for those who died, fight for your right to love, and Fight to avenge what the Guild Fuckers robbed you of. Mourn those who died, mourn Steve and his family. Give them the time they deserve, but never forget to fight! Never forget that you are worth more than you think you are!" In the midst of Lizzy's powerful speech, Friday thought she sounded as thought she was saying goodbye.

Friday spurred on by Lizzy's words forcefully replied, "My thoughts exactly. Not one step back! I'm not going back to finish my time at the CIA because my guilt tells me to, but because I can make a difference, be it Guild Factions, terrorists or the Devil himself. I WILL make a difference, or die trying! I'll say it again! I know I'll have down days, I know I'll carry a heavy burden for years, I know I'll find it hard to love again, and I know my nightmares will still be there. I don't expect my heart of stone and ice to melt right away, or my feelings of being a wraith, a creature without a soul to go away, but I know a higher truth. Someday I'll be free to love and feel again, but for now all I need to do is endure and the rest will follow!"

"Au Revoir sister Elizabeth, it's been fun," Lizzy replied softly, the satisfaction clear in her voice as it petered out.

Friday then saw what Lizzy had been trying to do from the first time since she'd come back. Lizzy had been trying to push her to make a decision, not about who rules her mind, but something more critical. The decision about how she lived the rest of her life. A decision on the state of her very being. It wasn't what you did that makes you who you are, but who you are determines what you do!

Lizzy's aim was twofold, firstly to make her realize that you couldn't gloss over things, but you had to fight for every inch you believed in. Secondly it was to somehow start to bring together her true self once more from the splinters of her own fractured mind. In some ways she wondered if her subconscious hadn't allowed Lizzy to be bought back for those very purposes. The hurt, emptiness and pain she still felt told her those things were still not 100% right. But she did know one thing. She could love again, and her daughter's life would show her the way. A daughter she had to get back and save if she was to have any hope left.

She felt impossibly tired, she closed her eyes once more and drifted off to sleep only to be awoken a few hours later by a screaming mad axe man headache. She clawed at her face and hair, anything to make it stop. Ten minutes later the pain ceased and she stared at the clump of hair she'd just pulled from her scalp. It was copper red.

34. Girl Friday
-------------------

A strong light shining in her eyes caused her to wake. Wearily she sat up and rubbed her eyes. What a night!

She looked around the cave in which she had slept in, and after giving a wide yawn noticed the crab shell she'd set out earlier the previous day. She picked it up and drank, feeling the refreshing cool water trickle down her throat.

She still had a long journey ahead of her so the first thing she would need to do was collect some supplies and work out the best direction to swim. She said a mental farewell to the cave and with a flick of her tail dived underwater to head back to the beach.

The change back from a mermaid to a having legs was just as painful as the other way around, and it was an hour before she felt able to move again. The only changes she had made, was to grow hard scaly skin under the soles of her feet. That would protect her from injury as she explored the island.

Her first port of call was a substantial number of coconut trees which she soon learned to climb and deprive of their fruit. Within a couple of hours she had collected around 20 coconuts, still wrapped in their protective green shell. The next thing to do was make some kind of net to hold them in.

It took her a while to collect enough palm leaves, strip them to make a long length of rope and the rest of the day to weave it into a net bag suitable to hold her food supply in. To ensure it all held together she grew a long hollow needle from her wrist which span a sticky, strong thread of silk that would add more strength to the bag.

Exhausted from her efforts, she painfully turned her left hand into a machete shaped blade and chopped her way into one of the coconuts. She then picked it up, drank the milk before slicing it in two with her blade hand. She ate the meat with relish, feeling the strength flow back in her. It was now nearly dark and too late to do any scouting and she was too tired to return to her cave, so she made a bed out of the remaining leaves and settled down for the night.

The next day arrived with glorious sunshine that immediately warmed her up. She felt something crawling in her hair and with a start sat up and pulled a small crab from it. "Yuck!" she exclaimed. The sun had been up for a while, and the sky was blue with perfect visibility. Only one thing left to do, scale the top of the volcanic ridge to see if this was just an isolated island or if there were larger inhabited ones close by.

It was a long hard climb to the top of the ridge. Several times she nearly stumbled or slid back down as rocks came away in her hand. The sharp rocks had sliced into her hands several times, but she refused to heal them as she'd need all the energy she could. After an hours hard climb she stood at the top and too a long hard look around.

An expanse of blue ocean was in every direction, with not a cloud to be seen anywhere. The view was stunning, but also very disappointing. There was no other land to be seen anywhere. A strong gust of wind blew against her back, and it gave her an idea. It could take a month to swim to the nearest inhabited island. She would need to move faster and use less energy than swimming, and she had just the idea.

She scrambled back down the ridge, now she knew the easiest route up and down it was a lot less exhausting. She walked to her bag full of coconuts and ate her fill. She then spent another hour gathering some more, and after filling the bag once more put it over her shoulder and started the arduous climb to the top of the mountain.

Placing the bag down on the floor, she closed her eyes in acute concentration and waited for the changes and the pain to come. Her back arched as an additional set of 'arms' emerged from her back. These 'arms' then grew to almost twenty feet in length. Skin formed between these arms and her back and she felt pimples start to grow on the skin that had just formed. Concentrating harder she imagined a set of white feathers emerging from the skin and a rustling sound alerted her to the fact that they were indeed forming.

She seemed to scream in pain for years as it felt like red hot needles pierced every part of her body. She fell to the floor, her new wings sprawled all over the place, like an injured bird.

An hour or so later a winged 'Friday' shook her new additions and tried an experimental flap. With ease she lifted off the ground and flew about a hundred meters before settling on the ground. Her confidence growing, she picked up her bag of food, ran to the edge of the cliff, jumped off and soared into the sky.

She'd used this body once before, when trying to catch up with a fleeing Matthew and she'd estimated that an hours worth of flying was the same as half a day swimming. She felt warm air under her wings as the thermals caught them and wafted her along with almost no effort at all. She gave an experimental flap and felt herself gaining height to around 150 feet. She had to strike a balance, too low and she wouldn't be able to see far enough away, too high and the thermals she relied on to power her along would be too weak and she would have to expend valuable energy.

The wind had picked up, and it was now pushing her along faster than she'd hoped for. At this rate she would be able to fly a hundred miles today. The wind kept up for several hours until night fell. She had of course nowhere to land, and with no high 'launch pad' if she landed in the sea she might never be able to take off again. Therefore she had only one choice, keep going.

Being so close to the equator night fell quickly, its dark shroud covering the entire horizon, and yet still onward she flew. It was taking a more effort now, the heat of the day was passing and the thermals were cooling down and providing less lift. Every half hour or so, she would fly harder and faster in order to gain the lift she needed to see if there were any lights of ships or even islands. There were none, only a dark blue expanse of water.

On the second day of her flight, she decided to open up a coconut to keep her going. The life saving thermals has returned, allowing her some respite from the constant effort of staying aloft. It was a little awkward, and she dropped one of the precious nuts into the ocean before she worked out the best way of opening it. She drank the milk with relish and positively devoured the juicy meat inside.

--- oo ---

For nearly a week she slew, thru both night and day, and not a sign of any human at all. She estimated that she'd flown over 600 miles, physically she was exhausted and had used all but one of her coconuts up. It was getting on to around 2am and she decided to put all her energy into one last high altitude sortie. She would then glide down and drop back into the ocean. She had just enough energy to change back into a mermaid again to resume her journey. Time was now critically short, she had less than 2 weeks to stop Heinlein before her daughter and her friends became in mortal danger.

She rose, higher and higher until she was around 500 feet into the air. She was about to glide downwards when on a whim she gave one last look around. "THERE" she called out triumphantly. She could see the red and green running lights of a ship in the far distance. Folding her wings back into a swept shape she picked up speed and hurtled, like a falcon about to swoop on its prey towards the boat.

She calculated its course and dived with a splash into the water about two miles from the boat. It was a large yacht, around sixty feet long and was obviously on a cruise somewhere.

She felt her feathers fill with water and start to drag her down beneath the waves. Absorbing the wings would take too much energy and pain, so she allowed the wings to be severed from her back and she instantly felt much lighter. She healed the wounds where the wings had grown from her shoulders, and with a hard kick of her legs swam to the surface. She trod water for a few minutes to let the yacht get closer before rapidly swimming towards it. At the last moment she lunged for the bottom rung of a rope ladder and hauled herself onto the deck.

From inside the yacht she could hear music being played, the first she had heard in over two weeks. She looked around for anything she could use as clothing, walking naked into a dinner party wasn't the best way of getting help. She spotted a tarpaulin covering one of the small inflatable boats, picked it up and wrapped it around her.

She opened the door to the cabin where the music was coming from and before she could say anything collapsed to the ground, the effort and exhaustion had caught up with her.

--- oo ---

"Are you ok?" She heard a woman's voice say softly, and then felt the soothing wipe of a damp cloth on her forehead.

Friday opened her eyes and saw a middle aged woman, with gray hair and glasses holding the cloth and a glass of water. The woman was well dressed, with what looked to be a large diamond necklace around her neck and she was wearing some kind of designer dress.

Friday struggled to sit up and took the glass of water from the lady. She took a sip and immediately felt better. "Thank you."

"My name is Monica, my husband owns this yacht. Please forgive me, but who are you and how did you come to stowaway on our yacht?"

There was no hint of malice in her voice, just concern for her passenger, "My name is Friday. The plane I was in crashed a couple of days ago. I managed to hang onto some wreckage but it was swept away from me last night. I saw your yacht and knew that unless I swam towards it I was dead," Friday explained.

Moncia's eyes looked pitifully at her, "Oh poor dear, you do look a state. Did you want some food? I can get chef to make anything within reason."

"Some pasta would be nice, that and some more water thank you," Friday replied. She needed instant energy food to help her recover.

"I'm afraid nothing I have will fit you. But I think you may be able to wear some of my husband's pants and shirt. You gave us quite a shock!"

I bet I did, Friday thought. "You're so kind. I need to tell my friends I'm alive do you have a satellite phone I could use please."

"Oh I'm not sure dear, I'll go and ask. What an ordeal you must have had. Poor thing!" Monica handed Friday the rest of the glass of water

Friday took a long sip, but was careful not to overdo it, "That would be great."

An hour later Friday was feeling a lot better, she'd eaten two whole bowls of Pasta and several liters of water and now dressed in a set of long blue pants and a white mans shirt she was ready to make a call on the yachts sat phone.

"Thank you so much for this," Friday said taking the sat phone from Monica's husband John, who she had found out owned most of a Texan oil company.

"Hey, if we can't help someone out in this day and age what hope is there!" John replied in his thick Texan drawl.

"Thank you! Do you mind if I make the call in private?" Friday asked.

"Not at all. If you need anything one of the staff will oblige. We'll be on the sun deck," John gave Friday a smile and left the room.

"Here goes," Friday said and dialed the Presidents hotline number. She just hoped he was sitting down.

The phone rang for a minute or so, and Friday was about to hang up when President Roberts voice said "President Roberts."

"Hello Mr. President, remember me?" Friday said with a smile.

"Friday?" The President couldn't hide his surprise and shock.

"Yes sir, Miss me?"

"Last we knew you were on that Quantas 747 that was lost over the Pacific. You were posted as KIA only a few days ago. What in hell happened?"

"Sir, are you in a secure location?" Friday asked.

"Yes I'm in the Oval Office, but about to go to a cabinet meeting."

"Sir, what's the state of play at the moment?" Friday asked.

"We now know that the plague was a bluff to convince us and you that there was no choice, so far we've not heard a peep out of the Guild Faction since you vanished. Heinlein thinks they have gone to ground after you killed their leader Steve. Now it's just a waiting game till they show up again. What the hell happened to you?" The President explained.

"Sir. I was given a briefcase by Heinlein that he said contained samples of the bacteria. He wanted me to take them to see Dr Green in Australia and stay there to help further analyze them. He insisted that I keep it strapped to my wrist at all times. However a passenger was in the process of having a cardiac arrest. I was the first doctor they came to, so I'm afraid I disobeyed your edict to help him. I was in the process of helping him, when an explosion blew a large hole in the fuselage. I barely escaped from the aircraft and I've spent the last two weeks in the Pacific Ocean trying to get back to warn you."

"Warn me?" President Roberts asked cautiously.

"Sir, only one thing could have caused the plane to explode. A bomb, and unless there's a huge coincidence the only way a bomb could have got on board was if Heinlein had given it to me. Sir, the briefcase wasn't scanned because the X-rays would have damaged the samples. That must have been the bomb. Heinlein wanted to kill me. He also knew that an explosive device was the only sure way to kill me. Sir, he blew a fucking airliner up just to make sure!" Friday explained.

"Why would Heinlein try to.. You mean!" The President exclaimed.

"Yes sir, Heinlein is a second changeling and more than likely the head of the Guild Faction. We all thought that Hassan had only created two changelings for each permanent UN member. I realized that he also created two more to start the whole thing up again and take revenge on anyone who had opposed him," Friday explained.

There was a pause, clearly President Roberts was weighing things up, "Are you SURE about this?"

"Sir, there is no other explanation."

"Let me guess, you have a plan on how to prove this and deal with it if it's true," The President said with a hint of frustration.

"Yes sir, I do. But not over an open channel. I'd appreciate a pickup as soon as you can arrange it, my coordinates are," Friday glanced down at a chart she'd borrowed and reeled off coordinates and heading, "Sir, it's vitally important not to let Heinlein know I'm still alive. How is the other project doing?"

"Ok, I'll arrange for you to be picked up tomorrow. Last I heard things were going well, although I hear your latest draftee wasn't that happy. It's good to have you back, and no doubt we'll speak in a day or so," There was a click as the phone went dead.

Friday got of from the chair and went to find John, "Thanks," she said handing him back the sat phone, "Would you mind doing me a favor?" she gave John her best damsel in distress smile.

"Depends, what is it?" Was John's cautious reply.

"Can we keep on the same heading for the next 14 our so hours. I've arranged for a lift to take me back home. I can't thank you enough for helping me!"

"That shouldn't be a problem, that was the plan anyway. Help yourself to anything you need," John offered.

Friday nodded in thanks and went down below to her cabin. She still felt tired, but at least she was safe and comfortable. She ached to get back to work, and she flopped back on her bed and gave a wide grin, the fuckers wouldn't know what hit them!

--- oo ---

The sound of a helicopter hovering overhead woke her up, she checked the clock on the wall and found to her surprise she'd slept over twelve hours. She got dressed in her borrowed clothes and made her way to the deck.

John and Monica were there looking up in amazement as a Sea King helicopter came in for a closer look. Friday looked up at the waiting helicopter the writing on the side of it read CNV-71 USS Theodore Roosevelt. No wonder they looked amazed. It wasn't everyday the US Navy came to call. She caught Monica staring at her as if to say 'who the hell did we pick up?'

A voice sounded from the speakers on the helicopter "Do you have A Lieutenant Friday Carrell on board?"

Ignoring the incredulous stares from John and Monica, Friday waved to indicate she was the person they were looking for.

"Permission to come on board!" The voice on the loudspeaker asked

John gave the 'OK' sign to indicate they could.

An order was barked "Stand clear!" A few seconds later a life preserver was lowered to the deck of the yacht. Friday walked over to it and after making sure it was secured gave a thumbs up. She turned to John and Monica and gave a wide smile, "Thank you so much!" she shouted over the noise of the Sea King.

A few seconds later a Navy diver was lowered by winch to the deck of the boat, after ensuring Friday was securely attached to the winch cable he gave a thumps up and Friday felt herself being jerked into the air. A minute or so later she was sitting inside the cockpit of the Sea King, waiting for the diver to be bought back on board. Two minutes later the diver was sitting down next to her and gave her a crisp salute. "Welcome aboard Ma'am!"

Friday returned the salute, "Glad to see you. Hope you didn't mind the detour?"

"No Ma'am. The TR is about 220 miles due West of here. We'll be there in around 3 hours, fancy a smoke?" The diver offered her a cigarette.

Friday pulled a face, "No thanks. Do you mind if I just kick back until we get there. It's been a long day!"

"No Ma'am, make yourself at home!"

The interior of the Sea King was cramped, noisy and uncomfortable but Friday didn't care. She was on her way back!

--- oo ---

Four hours later Friday emerged from a hot shower and got herself dressed in a spare uniform that a kind ensign had found for her. It was a good job that she wasn't really Air Force, otherwise she'd have a fit about being in a US Navy one. In fact to keep up the pretence she'd made a fuss about it. The shower and being dressed properly made her feel immeasurably better. She had been debriefed by the First Officer had been informed that an F14 Tomcat was being prepped and refueled, ready to fly her back to Washington, she was due to leave in a little over an hour. Clearly the President wanted her back as soon as possible, a fact that suited her just fine.

She had been offered a tour of the ship, but she wasn't particularly interested so she pretended to be tired. All she knew was that it was huge, could kill lots of people and she wanted off it ASAP.

She looked at herself in the mirror as she combed her copper red hair, the symbol of Lizzy's interference in her life the raven black hair was long gone, but inside she knew that Lizzy had left her mark. All that mattered was getting back to Washington, dealing with Heinlein and saving her daughter. After that? Who knew?

There was a knock at the door, "Come in." she called out.

A female ensign gave her a salute, "Your flight suit Ma'am," She said nodding towards a large grey overall.

Friday returned the salute, "Put it on the bunk ensign. I guess it's time for me to go."

"Yes Ma'am," The ensign put the flight suit on the bunk, gave another salute and left her alone.

Friday quickly put on the flight suit, checked everything was in order and followed the signs to the flight deck. Once there she was met by her pilot, a Captain Tucker. He gave her a firm salute, which she then retuned, "Lieutenant Friday Carrell, sir"

"At ease Lieutenant. Ready to go in a real airplane?" Captain Tucker quipped, his brown eyes showing the wrong sort of interest in her.

"Yes sir," Friday replied.

Captain Tucker checked over her flight suit, she did the same to his and once all the checks were complete he led her to the gleaming white F14 Tomcat that was sitting on the deck of the carrier. Under its wing were two large drop tanks of fuel, along with two AIM9-M Sidewinders Missiles.

"We'll need to refuel five times to get you where you need to go Lieutenant, should be old hat to you," Captain Tucker commented.

Friday nodded, "Yes sir, though I'm not rated on Navy fighters."

"You'll be fine, just sit back and enjoy the ride!"

It took a further half hour of cockpit checks and drill before she was handed her helmet and they were pronounced ready. After one final check, the clear glass canopy was lowered into place and the Tomcat started to Taxi into position, "Hold on to that pretty tush of yours Lieutenant!" Captain Tucker stated as the whole aircraft seemed to strain at the leash. He then increased power to the engines and all of a sudden she was slammed back in her seat as the aircraft was catapulted off the deck of the carrier, it dropped a few feet but then rapidly rose into the air. Then and only then could Friday breathe a sigh of relief, that was one hell of a rush!

After that, the most exciting part of the trip was the refueling, the almost sexual union of two aircraft performing a high speed ballet was fascinating, but apart from the noise and the speed it was just an airplane. For his part Captain Tucker tried to make jokes and pass the time with his war stories, but for the most part she just found them tiresome and crass.

Instead she just looked out of the cockpit window at the Ocean and then the land that was hurtling at near supersonic speed beneath her.

35. Payback
----------------

It was nearly midnight when the Tomcat landed at Andrews Air Force base. Waiting for her there was a new uniform and a sealed letter. After bidding Captain Tucker a farewell she was escorted to her quarters where at long last she could rest and open the letter in privacy.

"Friday, welcome back to the US.

I have arranged for a car to pick you from Andrews Air Force base an 8am tomorrow. We can discuss what needs to be done on your arrival."

The letter was signed President Roberts.

Friday took the opportunity to take another shower, before hunkering down to sleep.

At 8am she was told there was a car waiting for her, and after getting a lift to the main gates was soon inside the black limo.

--- oo ---

Two hours later and she was sitting in a conference room inside the White House. She'd been waiting for half an hour and was now very bored. She'd already eaten an Apple and a Banana from the complementary bowl of fruit that had been provided for the meeting.

She just wanted to get it over with. She heard a door handle turn and in walked President Roberts, DDO Young and the Delta Force Colonel she'd met during the faked video feed attempt.

Friday stood to attention and saluted.

"At ease Lieutenant," The President ordered and gestured for her to sit down. Which she then did so.

"I have relayed what you told me to DDO Young and then to Colonel Smith here. It does seem as you are correct in your analysis. We checked back on the number of samples of the bacteria removed for investigation and we can account for them all. That means that the only place the bomb could have come from is from Heinlein. Since he has ordered no requisition of explosives, then the material must have come from outside of the CIA."

Friday nodded, "He must have been sure that what he had planned would kill me. Desperate too. What's he working on now?"

DDO Young replied, "The Guild Faction still. He's going into how Agent Grayson could have got past our checks."

"The question remains, how do we deal with this? I take it we don't we just go in and arrest him," The President glanced at Friday.

"No sir, we have him followed. See where he goes. Once we're sure he's with his Guild Faction buddies we strike and take them all down at once," Friday explained.

"Is he likely to?" Colonel Smith asked.

Friday nodded, "He will if we feed him some false information that forces him to go running off to make contact."

DDO Young nodded in agreement, "Such as letting him know we've found his hideway?"

"That could do it, although he could just call them up and warn them, wear a different color tie or shirt to alert them. So it's too risky. Why not let slip that Ambassador Ambassador Kadhim is actually still alive. He'll have to go running to them then, as he knows as soon as it goes public the Guild Faction will be nearly history! His only course of action will be to try and kill Ambassador Kadhim before the news leaks out," Friday stated.

"And then we drop a fuel air bomb on the whole fucking vipers nest?" Colonel Smith added.

Friday shook her head, "No, we need Heinlein alive. Firstly he can provide us with a lot of information and secondly I need to speak to him before he's put on trial. Colonel can your men capture a Guild Changeling alive, without being slaughtered?"

She saw Colonel Smith think, "It's not a scenario we've trained for. We can kill one with heavy weapons. I'm not sure if you know, but a Guild Changeling will use it's failsafe to commit suicide if cornered. I'm not sure how we can prevent this. As long as he's conscious he's a threat. We never even seen one in action to know their full capabilities. But I do know we're up for trying!"

Friday sighed, she'd resigned herself to confronting Heinlein back in the cave

"Colonel I believe I'm the best person to take on Heinlein," she stated in a lecture tone.

Colonel Smith turned to Friday and said, "No offense Lieutenant, but my troops would wipe the floor with you, let alone a Guild changeling trained in every form of defense and able to repair his body in seconds."

"Then you do need me. I know more about Changeling's than anyone on the planet. They may be powerful, highly trained and extremely lethal, but they do have weaknesses," Friday was tempted to do a demonstration, but better sense prevailed. She was after all not supposed to exist.

The President ordered, "Colonel, would you mind leaving us for a few moments, you too Albie."

With a nod of ascent DDO Young and Colonel Smith got up and left the room.

Once they had gone the President turned to Friday and said, "I've an update on the promise I made you. The team you put in place to save Jane's baby has hit an obstacle and it's slowing them down. They estimate it'll be 3 weeks before they're done if ever!"

The news hit Friday like a hammer blow, "3 weeks, if ever! Kat's baby will be dead by then!"

"They need your help, but they need it within the next two days. Jane Stephen's doctors tell us the pregnancy is progressing well, and so far she's on time," the President explained

"But that could change any day," To come so close!

The President nodded, "I know. The reason why I tell you is that you have a choice. Go fight Heinlein or go to Nevada and work on the cure early. I know how close you came to being killed the last time you faced a changeling. My advice to you would be to let Colonel Smith and Delta Force get on with it, while you work on saving Jane's baby. You've done more than enough here. Leave it to Colonel Smith."

Friday didn't need to think about the reply, "Sir. Every fiber in my being says to go and help Kat. But if Colonel Smith can't handle Heinlein, and I really don't think he can then what does it matter what work I do with Jane as she and everyone else I hold dear will be dead. Sir, I need to be there! Not because I want to, but because I have to!"

"Friday, I'm concerned that you've now made this a personal matter. I've read Dr Adam's reports on your infection. Every change you now do causes intense pain, it'll slow you down. You won't stand a chance. I saw you fight a changeling a few months back remember. The honest truth was that it had you, and that was when you were at your peak. If you're killed then what hope is there for Jane's baby?"

"Sir, I know how this must look. But I know how they think, know what they can do. Sir, I want to go. If you can find someone else who can even the odds against Heinlein then use them and I'll stand down," Friday laid down the challenge. She knew he hadn't.

"Ok," President Roberts said in a resigned tone of voice "you'll probably go anyway no matter what I say. I'll get a plane ready for you at Andrews so you can fly out to assist as soon as you can," The President pressed a small intercom button on a nearby one, "Send DDO Young And Colonel Smith back in please."

"Oh Friday, One last thing before they come back in. Only show them what you can really do if you have to. No heroics and no theatrics!"

"Yes sir!" Friday agreed.

A few seconds later DDO Young and Colonel Smith entered the room and sat down.

The President settled the matter, "Colonel. Friday goes with you. Equip her with anything she needs or asks for."

"Yes sir," The colonel replied, although it was clear to Friday that he wasn't happy.

"Albie, when can we give Heinlein the false lead?" The President asked.

DDO Young cleared his throat, "I can call him right away, although the critical path is how quickly the logistics can be worked out. We'll need at least 7 cars to set up an effective tail. Colonel, what's your plan?"

"We'll have tactical units of 15 or so in all four corners of the city, so that no matter where they are we'll be able to get to them fast. Once you've located the Factions HQ, we'll send one in to secure the perimeter, while the others are airlifted in. Once everyone's in place we'll go kinetic and take them down. We'll be set in two hours," Colonel Smith explained.

President Roberts commented, "Seems simple enough, Albie go make the call. Friday you should go with Colonel Smith and help him prepare."

"Yes sir," DDO Young replied.

"Friday I guess you're with me. You'll need to prepare a briefing for us on what to expect," Colonel Smith ordered.

"Yes sir," Friday gave a salute.

"Dismissed gentlemen and Friday!" The President stood up indicating they had permission to leave.

Friday was whisked away to a large warehouse on the outskirts of the city, where the rest of Colonel Smith's troops were engaging in several mock exercises. Friday was impressed by the level of skill and training they employed. She just hoped it would be enough.

On seeing Colonel Smith, the troops stopped their mock combat and stood to attention.

"Fallout to the briefing area ASAP," The colonel barked.

Friday could see that she was the center of attention, albeit in a covert way. The looks of the faces of these hardened soldiers said it all. What in hell is an Air Force Lieutenant doing here, especially one that looks as though the slightest breeze would snap her in half.

Minutes later some 60 crack soldiers were sitting attentively at their makeshift desks. Colonel Smith walked into position to address his men. "I can now tell you of the why you are here today. We have information that another changeling has attempted to infiltrate the government. Our job is simple. Once the spooks have identified where his base is, we are to go in and deal with any resistance and take the changeling alive.

As yet we have no idea as to the strength and weaponry available to them, which is why we'll divide into four teams of 15 which will, on the call from the CIA will secure the perimeter and wait for reinforcements. I'm told we'll have air cover in the form of some AH64's, an AC130-U Gunship and they'll be on hand if we need to stop any runners. None of us have faced a changeling before or even really know what they can do, other than what we've read. That's why I've asked First Lieutenant Friday Carrell to join us, to tell us what to expect. For this mission, Lieutenant Carrell is acting as my second in command," Colonel Smith gestured to Friday who walked next to him.

"Morning. I'm afraid I am not at liberty to say why I am qualified to stand here in front of you, just that I am and if you listen you may have a chance of living thru this," Friday could tell by their faces they were extremely skeptical.

"You all know of the attempt last year to start a war in the Middle East, using changeling technology. What is not generally known is that we have come across CCTV footage of Dr Elizabeth Bexley engaging up to 30 Guild Fedayeen in single combat. As you know Dr Bexley was a changeling herself, so by studying her capabilities we can know how to fight and capture our objectives today. This footage is still classified, but I will tell you the salient points."

The attitude of her audience had gone from skepticism to disinterest. Her school kids were better than this, "The footage showed that Dr Bexley created an armored exo-skeleton around herself that protected her from the majority of bullets, even those of heavy caliber weapons. Even if a bullet penetrated her armor, her body was able to repair the injury within seconds, while she still carried on fighting. She also grew two additional arms, with which she turned into sharp bladed weapons and used to lethal effect. Combined with her superior strength and speed, the highly trained and rated Guild Fedayeen didn't stand a chance. Her main form of attack was to use these bladed weapons to stab, slash, rip apart or decapitate her enemies," Friday pushed the memories of that fight to the back of her mind, it was just slaughter on a primal scale.

She continued, "A secondary form of attack was to use poison darts, to kill or stun from medium range. The key point is, is that if you got too close, you died. The Fedayeen must have fired over 100 rounds into her and it didn't even slow her down. I know you wear Kevlar body armor and that should protect you from stabs and blows to the body, but no doubt the changeling will aim for the neck or limbs."

The mild disinterest turned to curiosity, "Can I ask a question Lieutenant?" A man, with shaven head and blue eyes put his hand up.

"And what's that corporal?" She replied

"How in hell are we supposed to capture it?" he asked.

It, there was that word again. Was she really an it? "Leave that to me. Your objectives are to take down the changeling's men and weaken him enough to let me get close."

She paused for a few moments before continuing, "We know from Dr Bexley's assault on the Guild Fedayeen that it took a lot out of her, so much so that her body nearly shut down under the stress of repairing so many injuries. From this we can deduce that a changeling that has had time to prepare for attack only really has one weakness. Every time it makes a change, or repairs an injury it uses up a significant amount of calories. Subject it to enough weapons fire or injure it repeatedly then eventually it will collapse from exhaustion. What is proposed is that you fire repeatedly at it, while keeping out of range of its blades and poison weaponry until it runs out of energy. At that point it can be captured."

"Ma'am if this thing is as fast and as deadly as you say, then how in hell are we going to stay out of its way?" It was the corporal with the blue eyes again.

"That is going to be the difficult bit, inside a building it will be near impossible to keep your distance all the time. You will be wearing Kevlar armor, I suggest you make sure that gets in the way first," Friday glanced around, the curiosity had been lost and been replaced by determination.

"That's all. Thanks for your time," Friday gestured for Colonel Smith to take over.

"Ok, you heard the lady. I want you to take as much Kevlar as you can carry, forget about machine pistols they won't be able to punch thru its armor. Take heavy caliber sidearms and TAR-21 Assault rifles. Remember what the Lieutenant said, stay out of range and fire everything you have at it. We move out in 30. Dismissed!"

The Colonel turned to Friday and replied, "I guess we better get you kitted out. Follow me."

By the time Friday had made her way to the equipment lockers, the majority of the troops were loading their gear into four vans. Each soldier was carrying a huge amount of armor and firepower "I'll just take a black coverall, Kevlar vest, a flash hood and a Desert Eagle pistol. I prefer to fight light," She asked.

Colonel Smith sighed, "Lieutenant no one will think less of you for being prepared. These guys know what to expect. I suggest you follow their choice of hardware."

"Thanks for the concern Colonel. But I need freedom to maneuver more than armor, Tell you what, give me two pistols and we'll call it even," Friday replied. If the worst came to the worst she would use her abilities. Fighting light and free gave her more chance to avoid Heinlein than take him on.

No sooner had Friday put the coverall over her uniform and strapped on the Kevlar vest a call came thru to the Colonel's radio. He listened for a few moments and said, "The bait's been laid, time to spread out to your agreed locations. Lieutenant you're with me."

"Sir. yes sir!" They said in unison.

Friday just said silent, 'Time to nail the fucker' she said under he breath!

36. Last Man Standing
----------------------------

Friday, Colonel Smith and the 14 additions to 'Jackdaw team' had been driving around their designated area for two hours. Inside the van was cramped and uncomfortable, but completely necessary in order maintain their cover.

One of the soldiers, called Biggs was talking to her "So how come an Air Force Lieutenant gets involved in this mission?"

"Wrong place, right time," Friday replied tersely. The flak jacket was making her hot and tetchy.

Colonel Smith's radio crackled in to life and he immediate picked it up, "Jackdaw here what can you tell me?"

A few seconds later the colonel knocked on the partition of the van and spoke to the driver. Friday couldn't quite catch what he said. But the response was immediate, the Van screeched to a halt, U-Turned in the road and sped off the way it came. "Seems our target has just arrived at his resting place, weapons and comms check people ETA 7 minutes.

Friday glanced around to see her companions instantly reach down and check each others weapons.

"Mind if I check yours?" Biggs asked pointing to the Twin Desert Eagle pistols in their holsters.

"Sure," she replied and handed them over.

Ten seconds later Biggs handed them back, "They were fine, just remember to reload as soon as you get a quiet moment."

"Friday?" Colonel Smith called out.

"Here sir," She replied.

"I want you to stay towards the rear, let our assault team go in first and secure the perimeter. We'll then move in and wait for the rest of the teams."

"Yes sir," Friday had kind of hoped to be one of the first in, but could understand the reasoning behind it. Heinlein could wait.

The Colonel barked instructions, "The rest of you. They're holed up in a warehouse. We've not yet get schematics but we do know it has two floors and three entrances. One loading bay, and fire door and a double door at the front. It's overlooked all around, so watch the windows of the other buildings. Since they've been there a while it's probably booby trapped so watch where you tread, Hicks, Hudson you cover the fire door, Jackson, Apone you take the main entrance, Gates and Horrowitz you take the loading bay. Everyone else provide cover and watch their backs.

The Apache's will be just out of earshot but can be there in seconds if we need an air strike. I've arranged for more air support from Andrews if we need it. The key here is surprise. Three minutes, I want this to go by the numbers. We're not here to take this by ourselves, but make sure our rats don't escape."

Two minutes later the van casually cruised into the industrial park and pulled into a parking lot, Colonel Smith made a last call on his radio and then nodded. "Right Satellite confirms that target is still inside. They must have some kind of thermal screening as thermal imaging shows zip, but we know they're in there. Friday felt the van move off and it suddenly sped up as it neared the target.

"Assault team GO GO GO!" Colonel Smith ordered and the rear doors flung open as the 6 man assault team leapt out of the still moving van, which then U turned to provide cover for the advancing assault team. Friday half expected gunfire to open up as soon as they appeared but none was forthcoming.

"Cover team Go! Colonel Smith ordered and four more soldiers leapt of out the van to provide cover for Assault team already heading towards the three doors.

"Friday, you're with me. We'll head to towards the crates by the loading bay. GO!"

Friday jumped out of the van, closely followed by Colonel Smith, who then squatted down behind some wooden packing crates. "Teams report?" He ordered.

Friday heard the voices in her headset "Fire door secure sir!"

"Main entrance secure sir!

"Loading bay secure!"

"Nice work people. They must have sentries around somewhere. Assault team hold position, everyone else buddy up and search by quarters," Colonel Smith Ordered.

From her position Friday noticed the glint of a scope in one of warehouse windows to her left, "Sniper!" she pointed.

She was too late, there was a crack and one of the assault team crumpled to the ground, she wasn't sure who it was. She thought it looked like Hudson.

"Man down, Man Down, Sniper Sniper. Top window Putterills foods!" Was the urgent reply in her head piece.

"Biggs, you see where it came from?" The colonel ordered.

"Yes sir,"

Friday spotted Biggs take up position behind a rusty yellow forklift, He adopted the prone position and set up his M82A1 Sniper rifle. He was waiting for the sniper to change position or move.

"Assault team, take cover and hold position. Everyone else search those warehouses," Colonel Smith ordered.

Another shot rang out, this time she didn't see where it came from.

"Man down! Sniper middle window Saki Electronics," Another voice came across her headset.

"Damn it!. Fall back teams they've got us surrounded. Let's do this the easy way, calling in air support," Colonel Smith ordered.

Friday watched as the backup teams slowly withdrew behind what cover they could find. The Guild Faction had been waiting for them!

Another shot rang out and she felt a stabbing pain in her back, "Fuck!" she swore as the impact knocked her sideways.

"It's ok Lieutenant. We'll get a Medic as soon as we can. Sniper Second window along Strong's arcade supplies," Colonel Smith gave the report and turned his attention back to Friday.

The solid Kevlar plate in her jacket had stopped a lot of the kinetic energy of the bullet, but it had still penetrated her skin. She decided to heal it as best she could, "OWW" she cried out in pain as she sealed the wound. "It's ok, the flak jacket stopped it. Sir they have us surrounded and pinned down!"

Colonel Smith gestured for them to move to better cover, he was surprised at the speed Friday ran for cover. As soon as they were out of the way, Colonel Smith radioed "Jackdaw to Hawk 1, request close air support. Target top floor Saki Electronics, Putterills foods and Strongs arcade."

Thru her headset Friday heard the pilot of an Apache "Roger that Jackdaw. ETA 20 seconds!"

Colonel Smith gave a grim smile, "Heads down, Air support in 18 seconds. Assault Team, keep an eye on those exits I don't want to be flanked."

Seconds later the entire top floor of the warehouse behind her exploded, showering her with debris as the Apache fired its unguided rockets into the top floor. It hovered for a few moments before swiveling its chain gun towards the now burning building and firing a burst of lethal cannon shells into the smoke.

The Apache turned towards the other warehouse and was about to launch another salvo when it was hit by some kind of missile. Initially Friday thought it had survived, but the missile had hit right between the rotor blades and engine, shattering one of the rotors. It just seemed to hover there momentarily before being sent spinning and crashing into the burning warehouse.

"Shit! Jackdaw to.."

Then things realty went to hell.

"Man down, Sniper, far window Saki Electronics."

The air was full of smoke, both from the warehouse and the Apache and the air was full of weapons fire.

Heavy Machine gun fire raked the ground in front of her, they were pinned down.

Friday watched Colonel Smith looking around, weighing up the options, the smoke was now so dense that any more helicopter borne air support was useless, and fuck knew how many more shoulder launched missiles they had! Time to call in the cavalry.

"Jackdaw to Magpie, Raven and Crow. We need you guys, ETA?" Colonel Smith shouted into his radio.

Friday heard the replies from the various teams, "Raven, Black hawks in the air, ETA five minutes!"

"Magpie to Jackdaw, ETA ten minutes."

"Crow to Jackdaw ETA 7 minutes."

"Roger that, be advised enemy has shoulder launched SAM's recommend you keep your distance. Casper should be on station." She could almost feel Colonel Smith's controlled anger.

"Roger, see you soon, Raven out."

"Jackdaw to Casper, we need you."

"Roger Jackdaw, ETA 3 minutes, Confirm targets," She heard another voice in the intercom. By the sounds of it 'Casper' was more air support.

Friday took a long glance around, already the place was a mess. The warehouse behind them was burning fiercely, sending clouds of thick black sooty smoke into the air, "Backup teams, designate sniper locations."

"We're going to shine a laser on each target, Casper's weapon systems will home in on it and that will be that," Colonel Smith explained to Friday.

"Won't the smoke get in the way?" Friday asked.

"Normally yes, but not to Casper," Colonel Smith replied with a grin. It was payback time.

Biggs was still in the prone position waiting for the shot. The remaining members of the team were dispersed under whatever cover they could find. At least no one from the Guild Faction had tried to run, but then they didn't need to. Jackdaw team was pinned down and the other teams would have to run the gauntlet of sniper fire just to get to them! She was glad she hadn't decided to take them on single handed. She'd be dead before she finished getting out of the car!

More gunfire echoed from the other side of the warehouse.

"Hostile down!"

"Contact second window, target building."

Another shot rang out, "Hostile down." That was Biggs. He'd changed position to cover the top floor of the warehouse.

"Better!" Colonel Smith clenched his fist, now they were getting somewhere!

"Casper to Jackdaw. We hear things are getting sticky down there, need our help?"

Colonel Smith grinned, "I thought you'd never ask. What took you?"

"One of the Vulcan's jammed. Anyway tell your guys to keep their heads down," Casper replied.

"Casper?" Friday queried. She had wanted to ask that for a few minutes.

"You'll see. All teams keep those heads down, Spooky coming in."

Friday could almost hear the cheer from the pinned down troops.

She heard faint sounds of propellers and suddenly three massive explosions rocked the ground almost from under her. Whole sections of the roof of one of the warehouses were being ripped to shreds by continual airborne cannon fire, explosion after explosion send shockwaves thru the ground. She looked up, trying to see where the gunfire was coming from and saw what looked to be a large transport plane gracefully circling high above them. There was however nothing graceful about the huge amounts white tracer fire being fired from its side as an almost impossible amount of explosive shells pounded into the warehouse.

There was a smoke trail from another shoulder launched missile, but as casually as one bats away a fly she saw a flare being shot from the rear of the aircraft and the missile strike it and harmlessly explode; almost instantly a smaller but more rapid stream of cannon shells torn up top floor of Putterills foods. This was joined seconds later by another stream of heavier cannon fire which ripped the entire front of the building apart like tearing tissue paper. As abruptly as it started the gunfire stopped. Job done!

"Casper to Jackdaw. If you need us we're just a call away."

"Roger Casper, and thank you!" Colonel Smith replied.

Friday saw the heavily armed gunship peel off it's circling course and vanish from sight "I want one!" she said with a triumphant smile.

Her radio crackled into life, "Raven, Magpie and Crow ready when you are!"

"Roger that. Raven, you take the main entrance, Magpie you take the fire door and Crow you're on the loading bay.

Friday saw six Blackhawk's similar to that she rode in to North Korea fly overhead and set down somewhere behind the destroyed warehouse behind her.

The firing from the warehouse where the Guild Faction had ceased, the fierceness of the assault on them had no doubt given them pause.

As in all battles there was a lull as each side weighed up their options. The lull was broken by heavy Machine gun fire from one of the Warehouse windows. It was directed at Raven group as they rounded the corner to reinforce the main entrance. They disappeared from sight.

"Hostile down, two of Raven wounded," the report in Friday's head piece clearly showed that the Guild Faction still had plenty of fight left in them.

More gunfire from the firedoor side of the building halted Magpie's advance.

"Magpie, coming under heavy fire."

"Roger Magpie. Set up suppressing fire from centre and flank from left and right," Colonel Smith ordered.

"Roger Jackdaw."

Friday heard repeated return fire which then ceased.

"Magpie in position, two bad guys down!"

Friday looked across to the loading bay area, another fourteen troops were gradually closing in when several heavy machine guns opened up, killing one of the men instantly. The rest sprinted towards where Biggs and the others were taking cover.

"Teams, confirm when in position. Assault teams standby to go in on my mark!" Colonel Smith ordered.

A thought crossed Friday's mind. Why was the Guild Faction not trying real hard to stop them reaching the doors? Maybe they wanted them to come in, "Sir!" she tugged urgently on Colonel Smith's arm.

"Not now, All teams go go go!"

Friday saw a team of 8 men dash towards the loading bay, one placed small explosive charges on the door while the others covered, a few seconds later there was a loud crump as the explosives blew the hinges off the door, before the door had even fallen off they had thrown several fragmentation grenades inside. Six explosions followed by dust and smoke erupted from the door and seconds later the 8 men were inside.

Ten seconds later there were three louder explosions and Friday heard the sounds of men screaming over her headset. The Guild Faction had clearly laid an ambush for them.

Colonel Smith flinched, "Assault teams, engage all targets and fire at will, Execute!"

On Colonel Smith's orders more troops burst into the Building from all sides, and the sound of machine gun fire and grenades echoed all around her.

An urgent voice crackled over her ear phones "What the FUCK is that!"

The sound of more gunfire rattled from inside the warehouse.

"Bullets having no eff," her headset emitted a crunching sound.

"Two men down, Fuck what a mess! Open fire, aim for the head," Another order was barked out by one of the troops inside the building.

More weapons fire, which was then abruptly cut off.

"Shit! Four men down, Corporal Hicks to Jackdaw. We're pinned down on the ground floor, we've lost at least six men to that thing. One second it's in front of us, the next it's ripping our guys in two. Weapons are having no effect" Corporal Hicks wasn't panicked, he just wanted affirmation.

"Hicks. Keep firing at the same place, you will weaken it. Describe the changeling," Friday asked.

"It's hard to be sure. I reckon at least nine feet tall, four arms with blades the size of samurai swords and a hard bullet proof carapace. Shit. Apone Behind you, oh fuck!"

More weapons fire and seconds later it suddenly ceased.

Friday turned to Colonel Smith, "Sir you have to let me go in. We're being slaughtered in there!"

Colonel Smith held up a finger as if to say wait, "Raven, Crow and Magpie Status?"

"Raven here sir, we're pinned down by the main entrance. They mined the place with claymores and we're trying to clear them. We estimate around 15 hostiles in defensive positions."

"Private Jackson from Crow sir. That thing just killed the rest of Crow team. Nothing we have even makes it slow down. One second it's there, the next it's right next to you and then you die. Request reinforcements!"

There was no reply from Magpie.

"Sir. The changeling will wipe out your entire force unless you let me do something," Friday said urgently.

"With all due respect Lieutenant my men are some of the best in the world at this. You're here to advise, do so!" Colonel Smith snapped.

"Sir, Then my advice is to let me go in, before you end up with more dead soldiers!" Friday snapped.

"What the fuck can you do?" Colonel Smith said obviously annoyed at being spoken to by a mere Lieutenant.

Friday held her left hand up, "Watch and don't say a word!"

Doing her best not to grimace under the pain, Friday turned her left hand into a serrated boney blade.

"Holy Fuck! You're " Colonel Smith's eyes widened.

"Complicated! Now can I go?" Friday asked. There was little time to spare.

"Sure Lieutenant, go!"

Friday turned her blade back into a hand again, drew both pistols and sprinted towards the main entrance, if she could free up Raven team, she would have at least another 15 troops to help her take down Heinlein.

Avoiding the machine gun fire still being directed at her she dived behind a large metal container where most of Raven team was holed up.

"What's the status?" she asked a nearby Corporal

"Yes Ma'am. Fifteen men in defensive positions around the main entrance and stairs. We lost two guys to Claymore mines as they took the door. They must have been remote controlled and hidden in cardboard boxes as we detected nothing. I hear the rest of the teams have had losses too. Christ what a mess!"

"Ok, give me covering fire. Everything you've got. On my mark!"

The corporal nodded and indicated to his men to provide suppressing fire. They swiftly took up positions and started to fire into the area surrounding the entrance.

Friday gave it a second or two, and then sprinted towards the double doors. The amount of return fire was small as Raven team continually fired over her head. Remembering the warnings about booby traps, she sprinted thru the shattered doors and immediately leapt as high as and far as she could away from the reception area, just in time to avoid heavy machine gun fire that ripped holes into the concrete floor where she had just been.

She felt a bullet hit a Kevlar pad in her flak jacket and immediately returned fire with both desert eagle pistols. She heard a clump and a Guild Agent slumped to the floor.

The wall just in front of her exploded with machine pistol fire, forcing her to hit the floor and as bullets ricocheted around her head. She glanced up. She was only a few feet away from the stairway. As fast as she could, she stood up and dodged her way to the stairs. Her speed and random movements were making it hard to hit her!

A grenade gently bounced down the stairs, and in a desperate move she leapt over the railings and hit the floor. A second later it exploded sending shrapnel and concrete all over the room.

Friday rolled out of the way as more machine gun fire was aimed at her. This was getting her nowhere! Leaping to her feet, she put her left hand pistol into its holster, painfully turned her left hand into an 18 inch long serrated curved blade and ignoring the hail of bullets being fired towards her ran up the stairs.

She felt five bullets hit her Kevlar vest and narrowly avoided a lethal headshot. By now she had worked out where ten of the fifteen Guild Agents were.

Five were behind the furniture on the first floor landing, and another five were covering the stairways from rooms to the side. Now running at full speed she crashed into the nearest door and neatly avoided being ambushed by the two men inside the room. At full combat speed she jumped towards the wall, using it as a launch pad cart wheeled into the air and as she came down sliced a Guild agent's head in two with her blade arm, Simultaneously she bought her desert eagle pistol to bear and fired two shots at close range into the other agents head. The force of the bullets caused his head to explode, like a water melon being dropped from fifty feet.

This room now clear she took the time to grow on her left wrist another classic part of her arsenal, a poison dart thrower. Gritting her teeth she concentrated on armoring her skull against ricochets and shrapnel. Although she still looked the same, the extra half inch of heavy bone was a welcome relief. She relieved one of the fallen Guild Faction agents of two grenades that were attached to his belt.

She reloaded her Desert Eagle pistol and then holstered it. She opened the door and swiftly threw one grenade in the direction of the furniture and at full speed crashed down the door of the other room, instantly she threw in her second grenade. The two explosions happened almost at once and before the smoke had cleared she was inside the room. The grenade had injured three Guild agents who, still in shock tried to return fire. With swift and lethal movements she slit the throat of one and had fired two rounds into the heads of the other two.

She spoke into head set "Friday to Raven team, advance with caution. Stairwell clear, but I could do with some help on the first floor landing."

"Roger Friday. Raven out!"

She spotted another grenade on one of the fallen agents. She picked it up and pulled the pin. She burst out of the room, threw the grenade towards the landing again and sprinted down the stairs just in time to meet up with Corporal Ripley of Raven Team. She hid her blade hand behind her back and gritted her teeth as she turned it back into a hand once more.

"Nice work Lieutenant," He commented.

Friday pointed with her right hand, "There are at least 5 more in defensive positions on the landing. I'll take five men with me and take the downstairs, you take 10 and cover the second floor. If you see the changeling you'll already be dead, so prepare to pull back to easily defensible positions."

Corporal Ripley nodded in agreement, "James, Solo, Mitchell, Ryan and Hives you go with the Lieutenant. Everyone else with me. Lieutenant, stay here and secure the entrance we'll call when the second floor is clear."

Friday nodded, "She pointed to Hives, a small wiry man with a knife scar on his chin, "Hives, spread out in defensive positions around the stairways."

"Yes Ma'am," Hives pointed to James and Ripley who sprinted off to cover the other stair well.

Friday was content to leave the building clearance stuff to the troops. She only had an idea of the basics and no expertise in that area at all. She excelled in the asymmetric, shock tactics that had allowed her to take out five of the Guild Faction Agents but when it came to straight firefights she knew her limits.

Thinking of limits led her back to Hick's description of Heinlein's fighting abilities. From the size and shape Heinlein had to have used a lot of energy creating that form. He would also be comparatively slow compared to her. It would come down to the classic struggle between maneuverability and firepower.

Time to report in, "Friday to Jackdaw. Raven team now on the move, five hostiles down. Status report!"

"Jackdaw to Friday. We've lost contact with Crow and Magpie. Jackdaw covering building exits and still secure, have requested additional forces," Colonel Smith grim but determined voice sounded in her head set.

Friday did a quick calculation. They had lost somewhere in the region of 30 men in the assault on the building, six to weapons fire, and the further 24 or more to Heinlein. No wonder Colonel Smith had called in for more firepower. He wouldn't want to commit more of his men unless he was sure he had enough to project overwhelming force.

Loud gunfire pulled her attention back to the present. It looked like the rest of Raven had found the rest of the Guild Faction agents.

There were several loud grenade explosions and then screams. Seconds later Corporal Ripley and two other men came sprinting down the stairs, "Fucking hell! He swore.

"What?" Friday asked.

"We got the other hostiles, but then the changeling showed up, No matter what we did or fired at it still kept coming. It decapitated three guys and stabbed right thru the Kevlar vests of five more. We only just got away. That thing is unstoppable by anything we have here!"

"Shit!" Friday breathed. No wonder the Guild Faction were confident enough not to surrender.

"We need to get reinforcements. I think they're down to only two or three men, but we'll need an anti tank missile to take down that thing. Forget about capturing it Lieutenant. If this was a straight fight, no problem but this is unlike anything we've ever seen."

"Where was it? Was it following you?"

"No, it wanted to remain the middle of the warehouse where it had space to move about. I guess it figures that if it gets in a corridor we can concentrate fire long enough to hurt it."

"Did anything puncture its armor?" Friday asked. How in hell did Heinlein have enough energy to maintain that form and still fight!

"We saw a few shots penetrate, but within seconds it had healed them again, mind you its armor did look thin in places. We tried to aim at them, but it was already upon us and carving us up like a roast." Corporal Ripley shook his head; he'd lost too many good men.

"So the second floor is clear?" Friday asked.

Corporal Ripley nodded, "Apart from the changeling being able to jump up and kill us at leisure yes."

"Ok. Jackdaw, you hear that?"

"Roger Friday, please advise," Colonel Smith asked.

"When will reinforcements arrive?" she queried.

"ETA twenty minutes. Casper is waiting should we need him."

Friday thought about what the awesome firepower of the gunship and what it had done to the warehouses around her. They needed Heinlein alive, he would be able to provide info on other Guild Faction cells, other hidden weapons caches and where Abramovich was hiding out.

"Friday to Jackdaw, We'll keep Casper as a last resort. Send as many of your men in as you can, there are only two hostiles left bar the big one. Tell them to go to the second floor and prepare to lay down suppressing fire. Confirm when in position."

"Affirmative," Colonel Smith agreed.

"What's the plan Lieutenant?" A weary Corporal Ripley asked.

"Now the first and second floor are clear we'll surround the changeling and fire everything we can at it. As you do so I'll go in on the first floor. As soon as it sees me it'll forget about the rest of you. As soon as we've punctured its armor, I'll go in and finish it off, "Friday explained.

Friday saw that Corporal Ripley was about to protest, "Don't worry about me. I'm quicker than it is. Well, worry about me a little ok?" She smiled.

Colonel Smith's voice came over her headset, "Jackdaw to Friday, remnants of Jackdaw team in position. Raven take up positions and report when ready."

"Roger Jackdaw," Corporal Ripley replied and indicated for his men to take positions back up the stairs.

"Corporal, Lend me a frag grenade please," Friday asked.

"Sure, take two," Corporal Ripley handed Friday two grenades which she attached to the rear part of her belt.

"Thanks. You'd better go," She said.

"Good luck Lieutenant," Corporal Ripley offered his hand.

Friday shook it, "you too."

Corporal Ripley nodded before running back up the stairs to take his position.

"Friday to Jackdaw. Don't start firing until you see me."

"Roger Friday. Everyone else, you heard the lady!"

Friday made her way cautiously thru the main corridor leading to the storage area of the warehouse. Blood covered the walls around her and here and there she spotted a severed limb or head of one of the soldiers who had tried to take the building. The blood and gore increased the further she got in. This hadn't been a fair fight. Heinlein had wiped the floor with some of the best Special Forces in the world.

Just ahead was a wide open space, in the centre of it stood a creature some nine feet tall and covered in a thick black and shiny exoskeleton that resembled the chitin like a lobster's shell. From the creatures shoulder were two armor plated arms that were covered in blades and spines, a second pair of arms had been grown underneath it and they too were covered in razor sharp spines. However where a hand should be was now a bony, spiked mace.

The creatures head was shaped like an armored almost medieval looking helm, but just on it's right shoulder there was a translucent balloon shaped membrane about 2 feet across. Inside it she could see things moving!

How is that possible? She knew she could create simple life forms like bacteria, but anything else was just theoretical. A ripple of fear went down her spine. Heinlein's abilities were far above her own!

She walked into the room and noticed the remaining 20 or so troops surrounding them on the upper walkway of the second floor. As soon as she came into view they opened fire at Heinlein.

Bullets slammed into his armor, but to no avail. He gave a loud laugh and Friday watched in horror as the membrane burst sending thousands of what looked like wasps everywhere! Heinlein didn't even move but casually watched as the swarm of wasps he'd made flew upwards and towards the soldiers.

One landed on Friday's face and she felt the sting. Immediately she felt the poison go into her and recognized it. It was the bacteria she had been asked to carry to kill the President and Kismet, harmless on changelings, but to anyone else utterly lethal.

She glanced up to see all the troops above her swat the wasps away and then fall to the ground as the bacteria attacked their very genetic structure. The dying, full of pain, and the anguished screams of 20 men pierced the air and echoed around the room. It horrified her to the core. They rammed home the sound of the screams she'd heard in her nightmares.

In one fell swoop Heinlein had just killed everyone but her! That was why Heinlein was waiting. To kill them all, all he had to do was wait and let the wasps do their job.

Heinlein turned to face her, the armored face showing some surprise she'd not yet succumbed.

"You want to know who I am and how come," she swatted a wasp aside," your pets haven't killed me. Let me tell you who I am. I am Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley, and I'm going to be the last living thing you ever see mother fucker!" Friday snarled and took her flash hood off.

Instantly Heinlein was on her, and she narrowly avoided being decapitated by a serrated blade. She dived out of the way and was just in time to vault over a mace that had been aimed at her head. So much for him being slow!

Heinlein thrust two more blade arms at her chest, hoping to rip her in two, but she was too fast and back flipped out of the way.

"You always were too slow," she taunted.

Heinlein's response was to rapid fire poison darts at her from one of his blade arms. She managed to avoid all but one, which thudded into her Kevlar vest.

Friday looked around trying to think of way of retaliating. For sure nothing she could grow would be able to penetrate his armor. But maybe there was another way.

Heinlein had backed away for a moment, obviously rethinking his strategy. He knew she was too fast for him. Friday watched as he turned one blade arm back into and hand and he walked over to where a soldier's severed arm was still clutching a TAR-21 Assault rife. He picked it up and started to fire.

The bullets hit Friday clean in the chest and she screamed in pain as they punctured her flak jacket. She'd managed to avoid being shot in the head, but now Heinlein was right on her again. A mace swung at her, and still injured by multiple bullet wounds she was too slow to avoid it. It smashed into her hip, and she felt its shattering blow splinter her hip in multiple places. She barely had time to roll out of the way as a long razor sharp blade stabbed down where her head would have been.

In agony, she stood up. She only had the one chance. She painfully grew a talon from her left hand just in time to avoid another slash which ripped the flak jacket from her chest. Her left leg was almost useless, the joint smashed beyond swift repair.

She was barely managing to stand and yet Heinlein still kept coming. She dived to the ground to avoid another mace blow that had been aimed to her head and agonizingly then had to roll over as three blades tried to slice her in half.

Heinlein paused for a second, clearly the effort he had exerted so far was beginning to take its toll. That second was all she needed and using the talon she'd grown she coated one of the grenades still attached to her belt with a sticky, spider thread like substance.

Taking the grenade from her belt, she pulled the pin, hid it behind her back, and changed the chemical her talon would inject and taunted, "Come on mother fucker. Finish me off!"

With a piercing shriek Heinlein lunged at her, blade arms and maces ready to deliver the killing blow.

At the last moment Friday leapt into the air and vaulted over Heinlein's head, on the way down she slammed the now sticky grenade onto the small of his back where it stuck fast. She agonizingly leapt clear and a second later it exploded sending Heinlein crashing forwards, a 6 inch hole had been blown in his thick armor. Within moments of landing on her right leg, Friday was on her feet and she jabbed the talon into the now exposed fleshy armor on Heinlein's back. Friday then rolled away and drew both her desert eagle pistols.

Heinlein roared in pain and turned to face her once more. Using her one good leg, she vaulted into the air once more and using both pistols fired four rounds thru the hole in the armor to where Heinlein's spinal cord would be. She watched the bullets smash into his exposed back before rolling away to safety.

Heinlein crumpled to the ground "I wouldn't use that changeling organ of yours. That's my blood inside you!" she stated.

The creature that was Heinlein struggled to move. She could see the frustration and fury on his face. He knew what having her blood inside him meant.

She cried out in pain as she repaired the basics of her hip joint, she could now walk albeit with a limp. Still holding both pistols she stood over Heinlein and smiled, "You won't be able to move so don't even try. The bullets I fired into you severed your spinal cord in I think two places and since you can't repair the damage I'm quite safe."

Friday took a moment to look around, the lethal wasps were still buzzing around, the remains of the soldiers.

"Bitch!" Heinlein spat, his voice distorted by the armor.

"Oh, so you can talk then. I'm just waiting for the cavalry to turn up so we have a few minutes to spend together. It'll be just like old times, "Friday turned and gave Heinlein a smile.

Friday walked to Heinlein's feet, so that he could see her. "I must say, the wasp stunt was very impressive. What did you do, create a smaller but denser organism and then apply a transformation drug on it to create a wasp? They look to be just drones, so they should just die in a day or so. Quite a mess you made here though."

"You've just killed your daughter Bitch!" Heinlein hissed.

"Oh you mean the daughter I've have twenty people working on a cure for the past 6 weeks," Friday taunted. She heard the sound of incoming helicopters.

Friday walked towards Heinlein, bent down and pushed her pistol into his armored mouth. Heinlein's eyes, still human although looking out from an armored mask widened, expecting death at any moment. Every urge in Friday's mind told her to pull the trigger. To end the life of this creature who had caused her and so many others so much pain and grief. Death was the only thing it deserved. Her finger tightened on the trigger, just one squeeze was all it would take. Tears were streaming down her face, "You bastard!" Memories of seeing the passengers of the 747 flight being eaten by sharks, screaming as their plane broke apart in mid air rushed thru her mind. Her driving to Steve's parents only to find them murdered flashed into her minds eye, and her finger applied a little more pressure. At the last moment she pulled it away and fired upwards into the roof.

"Why?" Heinlein rasped.

"Because I have a much better idea and I'm not a cold blooded killer anymore. Besides, killing you would mean all those soldiers died for nothing," Friday holstered her pistol. No doubt 'Lizzy' would have disapproved at her pulling back from delivering the lethal gunshot. But in her heart she knew it was the right thing to do, and what she had in mind was a lot more satisfying than merely killing him quickly.

The sound of the helicopters increased, they were obviously nearly overhead.

"That'll be your ride. Don't even think about using that changeling organ of yours to commit suicide. With your spinal cord severed the signals you could send to trigger your failsafe won't reach their destination. Cya," She gave Heinlein a cheery wave and then made her way out of the warehouse.

She emerged into bright sunlight and by now the smoke had cleared somewhat. Three warehouses were in ruins and apart from the black van she had ridden in there were no sign of Raven, crow or, Jackdaw!

She was just in time to watch a Blackhawk hover over the battle zone and ten more masked troops jumped out from both sides of the helicopter and it immediately dusted off but continued to circle at altitude.

A masked soldier around 6'2 and wearing a Major's insignia walked over to Friday and saluted, "Major Cloutman, Report!"

Friday returned the salute, "Lieutenant Carrell sir. Everyone else is dead, except I think there are couple of injured towards the main entrance so you'd better send some medics."

Major Cloutman looked at the devastation around him, "Did you apprehend the Changeling?"

"Yes sir, it's on the floor in the warehouse and not going anywhere. The changeling created some lethal insects which wiped out the rest of the Special Forces teams so you'll need NBC suits before you go in. Make sure they keep the doors and windows closed as much as they can and warn the surrounding area to stay away from wasps. After you've got the changeling out I strongly recommended you incinerate the entire building," Friday replied.

"Acknowledged! Take it easy Lieutenant. You've done enough here. We'll take it from now on," Major Cloutman replied.

Major Cloutman called out, "Sergeant, Get the Lieutenant here on board that Blackhawk and fly her back to base."

A tall man, in full urban combat gear stopped unloading heavy weapons, turned round and saluted "Sir!"

Friday didn't want to be airlifted out, she still had things to do in Nevada! "Sir, Request permission to be dropped off at Andrews Air Force base."

"Request denied, The sooner we're done, the sooner you can go!" The Major ordered.

Friday sighed, she needed to go NOW dammit. Unless she wanted to fight or be arrested she had little choice, but to limp towards the waiting Black Hawk and gingerly climb on board.

--- oo ---

Friday sat in the rear seat of the Black Hawk as it sped over Washington. Her debrief could last days, time which neither she or baby Elizabeth had. 'Fuck this", she thought. She pretended to receive new instructions over her headset, "Yes sir. I'll inform the pilot. Thank you sir!"

Friday called to the pilot and ordered "Change of Plan. Take me to Andrews," she ordered the pilot of the Black Hawk. If Major Cloutman could pull rank, so could she.

"My orders were.." The pilot stated.

"Didn't you just hear? I've just had new orders Sergeant. Take me to Andrews and that an order!" her voice full of authority.

"Yes Ma'am!"

She felt the Black Hawk change course and head towards Andrews Air Force base. It would take a while for the chain of command to work itself out, and no doubt she'd be in trouble for a short while but none of that mattered now. All that mattered to her was saving her daughter. With Heinlein neutralized and the Guild Faction all but wiped out it was now safe for her to do what she needed to, what she had dreamed about doing for months!

She sat back and rested, gradually healing the bullet wound in her chest and fixing a little more of her hip. It was still painful and slow. But at least she was alive.

Seven Minutes later the Black Hawk had landed and dropped her off. She was then directed to a two seat F15 which the President had especially laid on for her.

"Not another fighter plane," she moaned to herself as she took off her coverall and put on a flight suit.

Twenty minutes later she was in the air and hurtling towards Nevada.

37. Pathogen
-----------------

The F15 landed at a deserted runway somewhere in the Nevada desert. Friday had spotted several large white painted buildings on the approach. What initially puzzled her was why, in between each building was a large man made hill, but on looking at the wide spacing between them she deduced it was to protect the other buildings in case there was an explosion or fire in another building. Good thinking, she thought. The site looked huge, at least as big as the TGen site she'd been in at Seattle. She didn't really want to think about what else was being developed in the other buildings.

The fact that her aircraft hadn't been turned back meant that Major Cloutman had obviously been overruled by someone higher up, or that he was still clearing up the mess the fight with Heinlein had made. That didn't matter, she was here now, and she'd be dammed if she was going to leave before she'd been able to save baby Elizabeth.

As the aircraft taxied to a halt, she saw a middle aged woman with sandy blonde hair and lab coat, waiting for them to stop. Dr Smith presumably.

The canopy slowly raised upwards and she unbuckled her harness," Thanks for the ride," She said to the pilot.

"No problem Lieutenant."

Friday lifted herself out of the F15 and onto the steps. Within moments she had taken her helmet off and was greeted by Dr Smith.

"Good to see you Ms Carrell. We've been waiting a long time for you," Dr Smith replied with a cheery smile.

"Good to be here. How are we doing?" Friday asked impatiently.

"We'll show you," Dr Smith gestured for Friday to follow her.

Friday did so and was led to a small glass tinted building about 400 yards away.

Dr Smith swiped her ID card in the lock and opened with a click. She held open the door open for Friday who walked inside the brightly lit building. The interior reminded her of a hospital, with white painted walls, complete with abstract art paintings on the walls. "Mind if I take this off first?" Friday gestured to her flight suit.

Dr Smith pointed just up the corridor "Sure, next right is a changing and pre op room."

"I'll be out in five," Friday said, and walked towards the changing room. She took off her flight suit and hung it on a spare hanger in a wardrobe. She glanced down at her Lieutenants uniform. It had several bullet holes in, each ringed with blood. She swore and rummaged around the lab coats until she found one that could easily cover them up. The last thing she did was thoroughly wash and scrub down. She'd hate to contaminate any samples.

Dr Smith was waiting for her when she emerged from the changing room, "Didn't they have your size?" She asked gesturing to the lab coat.

"This was the closest they had. Let's go shall we?" Friday asked.

Dr Smith nodded and indicated for Friday to follow her. After walking thru a lounge area, complete with sofa and TV's they stopped at an elevator, which required Dr Smith to again swipe her card before it worked.

The elevator took them to the second floor and Dr Smith led Friday to a large conference room. Around the table sat Dr Banks and the others she had requested or had been bought in. Dr Banks glanced up from his notes and Friday saw the surprise on his face. Clearly he had been expecting someone else.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce Doctor Friday Carrell, she's here to help us."

Doctor Carrell? That was a new one on her? She knew why it had been done. They wouldn't respect plain old Miss Friday Carrell, or even Lieutenant Carrell but Dr Carrell commanded much more weight..

Friday nodded in appreciation, "Thank you Dr Smith. Now if you wouldn't mind outlining what exactly the problem is."

--- oo ---

Two hours in front of a projector, electron microscope and much discussion later Friday finally thought she had a handle on it, "So if I get this right. If you kill the 'blank sheet' it releases the payload and if you target the payload it triggers anyway."

"That's correct," Dr Banks confirmed.

"Have you identified the trigger mechanism?" Friday asked.

"Yes, There are a certain sequence of proteins that if adjusted cause the payload to trigger," The screen changed to show a set of six proteins, "Now as you know the only way to stop this triggering is to change the structure of the proteins in the correct order. Unfortunately this is impossible," Dr Smith explained

'Square building thinking!' Friday muttered under her breath.

"Sorry Doctor Carrell?" Dr Banks said. He'd obviously heard her.

Friday stood up and walked to the projector screen, "When I was at college, my tutor said of biochemistry 'It's like an architect telling you that you can only build square buildings! Just because he only knows how to build square buildings doesn't mean to say that you can't. I'm afraid to tell you that you only knows how to build square buildings, I want to show you how to build any kind of building you like!'"

"What are you saying Doctor?" Dr Smith said a little confused.

"What I am saying is that we can make whatever rules we like. You're thinking of conventional biology. What I am saying is that in order find an antidote we must break those rules."

"How? You can't just change a protein's structure like you would a child's building set," Dr Banks complained.

Friday irritation grew, Couldn't they see the solution? No wonder her research had been decades ahead with such narrow minded, stuck in the mud views. "Yes you can.. Look!"

Friday pulled over a flip chart, picked up a marker and started to explain.

--- oo ---

"What you say would work. But we'd need a serious amount of hardware to produce the agent needed," Dr Banks said a little skeptically.

"Or," Friday explained, "We get the body to do it."

"How in hell are we going to do that?" Dr Banks argued.

Friday smiled, "We use the patients Pancreas to manufacture the required enzyme. All we need to do is give it a push in the right direction."

"So, Dr Carrell. How do you propose we do this?" Dr Smith asked skeptically.

"Give me 24 hours and full access to your data and leave it with me," Friday said. She knew it would put several learned noses out of joint, but there wasn't time for her to carry passengers. Her daughter needed her!

Dr Smith sighed; this wasn't how it was supposed to go. This was meant to be a team effort.

--- oo ---

Friday worked thru the night to reprogram the sequencers and Pathogen simulators. She knew what she needed to do. She needed to be able control her changeling organ to the most precise detail. Copying or creating a whole body was child's play compared to the surgical precision of creating a single enzyme that wouldn't affect the rest of the body. To do that she first had to design the enzyme so that she could visualize it.

At 4am she had the model complete and it took her an hour of intense concentration to formulate it inside the biological factory that was her changeling organ. She'd created cures and drugs in there before, but nothing quite as complex as this.

Thru a small tube she'd grown from her left knuckle she dripped about 10 CC's of pale red liquid into a test tube.

She then put the test tube into the Pathogen simulator to see what the effects would be; forcing herself to stay awake she watched the simulator screen as the results slowly formed a line graph on screen.

The results were unmistakable and emphatic. It WOULD hit each trigger protein in the correct sequence to allow the bacteria and payload to be killed without triggering a fatal reaction.

She stared at the results on screen, and burst into tears of joy.

Baby Elizabeth would live! She'd done it! At long last, the final hold the Guild Faction had over her was broken!

--- oo ---

"There it is ladies and gentlemen," Friday proudly pointed to a spinning molecule on a computer screen.

"It's beautiful!" Dr Smith exclaimed.

Dr Banks walked around the monitor watching the shape rotate, "Congratulations Doctor. You've just broken every law of biology. Your employer would be delighted!"

Thinking back to the conversation they'd had a while back Friday knew what he meant, although everyone else in the room thought he meant her current employer. "Yes I'm sure she'd be delighted!" Friday gave Dr Banks a smile.

"So how are we going to let the body synthesize it?" Dr Banks asked.

"Already done!" Friday said gleefully holding a test tube in her hand.

"How?" Dr Smith demanded.

"Lucky break. Now all we need to do is combine this with the work you've already done" Friday replied. She couldn't help but smile.

--- oo ---

Four hours later it was complete "I don't know how to thank you all. We'd have run out of time if you hadn't done all the hard work before me!" Friday raised her champagne glass in a toast. "To you all!"

Dr Smith stood up, "And thanks to your insight we got the last hurdle over with in record time!"

There was only one last thing to do before putting on a plane to go to the clinic where Kat was due to have a final checkup before baby Elizabeth was born. She had to test it.

"Before this goes out, I just want to run one more simulation," Friday said, putting the champagne glass down.

"Come on, we know it will work. We've done ten trials already!" Dr Smith complained.

"I know. I just want to make it an even eleven. I'll be back soon," Friday stated and left the triumphant group to their partying.

--- oo ---

Sitting in two test tubes was the cure, not only for Kat but also for herself and the lethal pathogen that had been used to such devastating effect on the Special Forces. They all shared the same common bacteria, and her cure was designed to kill every variation of that. That meant that it should rid her of the almost debilitating bacteria that still infected her body. Before she took to the cure, she had one last thing to do. She took a fresh clean test tube and gingerly grew a small tube from her wrist. She allowed enough of her still infected blood to trickle into the test tube before she stopped the blood flow. She put a stopper in the test tube and labeled it 'Abramovich sample A"

She'd pass it on to the bio-weapons people, who would then grow it in en mass, thus enabling them to combat any other changelings that could crop up. She very much doubted that there were any more. But it didn't hurt to have something to use against one should it ever be needed again.

She picked up one of the test tubes, and using a nearby syringe drew 20CC's from it and plunged it into her arm. Within moments she felt the effects, she felt light headed, almost buoyant. This feeling then turned to a hundred pins and needles all over her body. She shuddered as the feelings went away, and she felt solid once again. The sensation of fragility had gone, and had been replaced by one of physical and genetic integrity.

She glanced down at the tube, that was still sticking an inch or so from her knuckle. A moment's concentration and it retracted back in, with no pain at all! She punched the air in triumph. She was back to her full abilities.

The next thing she tried was repairing all the damage still outstanding. She closed her eyes and felt bones and joints heal, muscle and tissue re-grow and lesions on her skin seal up.

She daren't experiment any further, as she could be overlooked, but it sure felt good to be back.

--- oo ---

Friday was sitting down, on a couch which served as her makeshift bed, and was watching TV. She'd checked her watch only minutes ago, but the waiting was getting to her. The cure had been flown out five hours ago and was due to be administered to Kat any moment now. Kat had been told it was just a routine vitamin injection, to ensure everything worked ok and that by having it the risk of prolonged bleeding would be greatly reduced, and to the medical staff overseeing her that's all it was.

A big part of her wanted to do it herself, but that had been overruled. They reasoned that she would find it hard to be professional on meeting her again, and that Kat would find it odd how a nurse knew so much about her.

They did have a point and to some extent she agreed with them, it was just the waiting that made it hard.

38. Three Goodbyes And A Farewell
---------------------------------------------

Her cell phone rang, "Dr Carrell Please can you come to the conference room," Dr Smith requested. Something about her voice told Friday that she was hiding something. She just hoped it was good news.

Friday got up of the couch and made her way to the elevator and after swiping her temporary ID card ascended to the second floor conference room.

She opened the door, expecting to find Dr Smith and team, but instead standing at one end of the room was President Roberts and a tall man around 6'4 with graying hair, blue eyes and wearing a dark blue suit.

President Roberts was the first to speak, "Friday, glad to see you again, close the door behind you and take a seat."

Friday did so and walked to the far end of the table nearest President Roberts and the other man.

President Roberts sat down opposite her, and the other man sat down next to him.

President Roberts looked at Friday and then said "Friday, Your reputation for being a pain in the ass is now fully established. Next time you want to disobey a direct order from a Major, make sure that I know about it first!"

"Sir!" Friday guessed what had happened. Her little vanishing act had messed with an entire command structure!

President Roberts cleared his throat and then said "That's the rough part over with. Now for the introductions. Friday I'd like you to meet your new Heinlein."

"Heinlein, this is Friday."

Heinlein smiled and extended his hand," Glad to meet you."

Friday reached over and shook it. She'd figured they'd find someone to look after her long term, but she had kinda hoped they'd leave it longer than a week! She then realized that Heinlein was a codename, not a real name. She'd always assumed the latter. Oh well, "Likewise."

"Over to you Heinlein!" President Roberts gestured.

"Thank you sir," Heinlein paused for a few moments.

"Friday we have a few things to clear up. Firstly we need a written report of everything you've done or been asked to do over the last seven months, who you met, what you did, and why you did it; the whole thing. I expect it on my desk in two weeks time."

Friday sighed, that would take a while. But it did show one thing, they were serious about her. During her time with the other Heinlein he never asked for a single report from her. Writing it down would help her get her thoughts in order, "Yes sir."

"Secondly, we've changed the phone number of the Presidential hotline. If you need anything go thru me. You won't need it anymore as the reporting line goes you, me, the DDO, then the President," Heinlein explained.

Friday raised an eyebrow it seemed as though they had created a whole new division especially for her.

Heinlein continued, "Unlike my old namesake I'm a great supporter of having you on board. You will be given whatever you need to perform whatever we ask of you. Unless there is a special requirement we will give you full disclosure on your mission. How you carry it out will be up to you. In short you have carte blanche in operational matters."

Friday smiled, she liked the sound of that.

"A few more things," Heinlein said and reached down into his briefcase and pulled out a portable DVD Player, "We took this footage this morning. The old Heinlein had used CIA safe houses and resources to hide Abramovich and his work. We think he figured it would be more secure in our own backyard. However it meant that finding it was just a matter, albeit time consuming of tracking it back. Abramovich and his family are now at secure location and will enter the witness protection scheme. As for his work, watch," Heinlein pressed play on the DVD.

The DVD screen lit up to show a large barn, in the middle of what looked to be Iowa. Friday thought she heard aircraft sounds and then suddenly the barn vanished in a massive fireball which tripped out the camera's exposure settings and sent a huge plume of smoke into the air. Seconds later the footage ended.

"We used a fuel air explosive on it. There's nothing left of his work. We also contacted the Russian security services. Last night they carried out an air strike on Alexei Ivanov's compound and destroyed the equipment there too. Abramovich has confirmed that all the information has now been destroyed."

"Unless he was lying," Friday added thoughtfully.

"No, we don't think so. When we told him what his work had been used for he offered to turn himself in and face trial for second degree murder. The news has made him a shattered man, although for sure we won't let him near a microscope again," Heinlein explained.

Friday nodded, at least that threat was over, "And the Guild Faction?"

"In a week or so we'll announce, just as you planned that Ambassador Kadhim is still alive and that should kill its growth and credibility stone dead. Then there's just the Middle East cell to worry about," Heinlein sounded pleased with himself.

"I don't think we need worry about the Middle East cell for much longer. Just ask Kismet to seize the opportunity when it arises," Friday said with a smile.

"Explain," Heinlein demanded.

"Just a hunch, I think when Ambassador Kadhim is changed back and is revealed to be alive, Omar's men will turn on him. Kismet needs to be ready for when it happens," Even now Friday decided to keep her involvement with the Guild Faction to a minimum. It would be her secret, she'd leave all mention of her intervention out of any report she gave. She smiled inwardly at the thought of Omar being consumed alive by the bacteria she had implanted in him and wondered if 'new' Heinlein would have approved. Probably not!

Heinlein looked at Friday in such as way as she wondered if he believed her or not. He continued talking, "You've been granted leave for another two weeks. However before you go, we want you to go to the secure facility where we're holding the changeling and ensure that it's secure."

Friday nodded, "my pleasure! Mind if I ask for a few things to be done before I get there?" She had been looking forward to that particular visit.

"Such as?" Heinlein said.

"I want to see the changeling alone, and I want to bring him a parting gift. Don't worry it won't be anything illegal or dangerous to him," Friday stated.

"Ok, So long as the facility head clears it. Anything else?" Heinlein asked.

Friday nodded, "Yes, just some additional precautions," she then outlined what she needed to happen to ensure that the changeling couldn't easily escape. She turned her head towards President Robert's who was preparing to speak.

"Friday, you've done an unbelievable job, far beyond anything we expected of you. I hate to think what would have happened if Agent Grayson and Heinlein had been allowed to pursue their course of action. As a token of appreciation of entire nation it's my pleasure to give you these," President Roberts reached inside his breast pocket and placed an envelope on the desk in front of her.

Friday picked it up and opened it. Several sheets of paper fell out.

"I'll give you a summary of what they say," President Roberts said with a smile, "The first sheet is me rescinding the executive order banning you from ever practicing medicine again, the second set is an adjustment to your academic records to add the qualifications you held as Dr Elizabeth Bexley to Friday Carrell's, including the right to use Dr as a title. The final is a job offer for senior ER surgeon at John Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. It's yours if you want it."

Friday put the papers down, and got up from the table. She was unable to contain the emotion she felt inside her. She walked to the window and looked out at the Nevada Desert. To save lives again, to be able to help those who needed her most. It was a huge step forward, but something inside her felt wrong about it. It felt as though the award was being given to someone else.

Dr Elizabeth Bexley was a surgeon, she worked in a hospital. Friday Carrell was a schoolteacher. She wasn't sure where Elizabeth stopped and Friday started, that was yet another thing to add to her 'to be worked out' list.

But she did know she felt huge affection for her classes. Was she prepared to abandon them to go rushing after past dreams now torn asunder? Maybe she was supposed to make new ones. Maybe leaving this part of her past behind was the first small tentative step to leaving what else she had done and allowed to be done behind, a baby step to being whole again.

She turned around to face President Roberts and Heinlein, "Sir. Your gesture means more to me than I can ever say. I'll take the doctorate and qualifications, but I'm afraid I must decline the job offer. My class needs me, and I've spent quite enough time away from them. Dr Elizabeth Bexley was a surgeon, I'm not sure if I'm all her anymore. I hope you understand."

She walked to the table and sat down again. She felt a terrible sense of loss, as though part of her had just died. Then she realized that, in a sense it had. She would never go back to being a doctor again, but she something else to do now. Something she had discovered meant more to her than she had thought or until now realized.

President Roberts nodded, "Yes I think I do. If you ever change your mind..."

"Thank you Sir," Friday replied.

The President checked his watch, "We have to go, and Heinlein will call you as soon as we need you. For the moment take some well deserved time off, find a new house to your liking and settle in. The Guild Faction is finished, thanks in no small part to you. This peace has certainly been hard fought."

"Yes sir, that it has. That is has..." Friday replied thoughtfully.

President Roberts and Heinlein stood up to leave and Friday followed suit. The President extended his hand, "The changeling is already in detention, I expect you'll want to get the survey over as soon as you can. Well done!"

Friday shook his hand and turned to Heinlein who also had his hand extended. "Welcome aboard," Heinlein smiled and shook hands with her.

With a last gesture of farewell they left the conference room, President Roberts and Heinlein to go to another appointment, and Friday to pack to leave.

After borrowing a digital camera and the use of a large printer, she signed for a hire car and took the long drive to the nearest commercial airport.

--- oo ---

It took nearly twelve hours to get to where she needed to be, a large installation right in the middle of some Godforsaken place in Alaska. As her helicopter swept down towards a large prison facility surrounded by miles of razor wire her thoughts turned to the occupant she had come all this way to see. Should she have killed him, as she promised herself or was this a better way?

Her photographic memory recalled a document 'New' Heinlein had E-mailed her. This place, this prison was designed to hold the most dangerous and lethal criminals in the country. It disturbed her to think that she would have ended up here, had she ever been caught. It was quite remote, and yet easily defended in case a prison break should be attempted. Being hundreds of miles from anywhere and the terrain offering little cover or hiding place, escape was very difficult.

The Changeling Heinlein wasn't going anywhere though. She'd shattered his spine in two places, plus the bacteria in his bloodstream would ensure it stayed that way. The bullets she'd fired into him had paralyzed him from the neck down.

The chopper landed with harsh bump, the crosswinds must have been harder than she thought. She waited for the rotors to stop spinning before collecting her things and hopping out to meet her escort.

--- oo ---

"Does this floor slope downwards a little?" Friday asked her escort, Oscar. Oscar was a tall thin man with an angular face and greased back hair who was very proud of his job, namely containing the worst of the worst.

"Yes they do, the floors slope gradually upwards or downwards so that over the course of a corridor you actually end up on completely different level. Also, by the use of hydraulics and moveable walls we are able to reconfigure the layout of the entire facility, except of course the cell blocks. That means anyone trying to bust anyone out has no idea of what the internal layout is. We can even physically block all exists to trap people inside," Oscar said proudly.

"Impressive. Just like the Maze Daedalus built for Queen Pasiphae of Minos. I notice the corridors are all identical. How do you find you way around?" Friday asked.

"Memory. Before we go in we know the configuration of the corridors. The elevator down is just ahead!"

Oscar led Friday to an elevator that was guarded by six armed soldiers. On seeing Oscar they saluted and stood to attention. "We don't trust automated systems entirely. It's possible for them to be circumvented or fooled. So we have both. Human and automated," Oscar commented as he placed his hand on a biometric scanner.

Friday handed over her bag to the guards, who after a thorough search and a few raised eyebrows let her keep it.

The elevator doors opened and they walked inside, "The inmates cells are some 200ft below us. This elevator is the only way in or out. We've designed the ventilation shafts to be too small for anyone to get in or out and they're lined with PTFE which makes them virtually impossible for anyone to use. Once you're down there, you're there for good."

Friday inwardly shuddered, If she hadn't have made the deal with the President she did, she would have been down there. Still, that was over with now. The elevator stopped with a small bump and the doors opened into a long bright white corridor. It was lit from all angles, giving no opportunity for shadows or hiding places.

"Just the one corridor?" Friday asked.

"Yes. There's just one straight line, no corners or junctions for people to hide in. The whole corridor is monitored 24X7, as is each cell. I must say your request was a little unusual," Oscar commented.

"But completely necessary. Is that one of the sensors?" Friday spotted a small gap in the ceiling.

"Yes, We've only just started installing them, the rest should be done by the end of the week," Oscar gestured for them to continue.

Friday was led past several solid doors, all closed and all with a single eyepiece in.

"This is it here," Oscar gestured and took out a small electronic key, "Four things are needed to open a door. This key, a voice print, today's code and finally the control room makes sure there are no surprises waiting for us before they open the door."

"Ok," Friday replied. As far as she could see there was no easy way out here, good.

He placed it in the lock, and then spoke out loud, "Oscar. Please open cell door 165, code 45F89G6H."

Friday heard the sounds of large metal bars being wound back and with a click the door sprang open.

"I'm ok to go in alone?" She asked.

"Yes. We don't normally allow it, but we were asked to make a special case for you," Oscar said.

"Thanks. I won't be long," Friday smiled and walked inside.

Inside the cell was a large bed, a stool and no other furniture. Laying on the bed towards the far wall, was Heinlein, exactly as she had left him. Nine Feet tall with four arms and a hard chitin exoskeleton. Attached to him were a variety of monitors and pipes, providing him with food and waste disposal.

She walked around the bed until she could see his face. His eyes looked at her in utter fury and utter hatred, "Nice place you have here!" Friday smiled.

"You will die bitch!" Heinlein snarled. His voice still rasping and unclear thru his helmet like face.

"Not today. Have they told you of the arrangements I've asked for to make sure you keep here?"

There was no reply.

"I expect you feel the drill holes in that tough exoskeleton of yours. Underneath it are now several pounds of C4 explosives. Just above the door and all along the corridor outside are sensors. If you should somehow manage to escape, then as soon as you get to within 10 feet of one, the C4 inside you goes boom. The thing is, I don't know how many C4 charges they put in you," Friday's voice was deliberately cheery. She'd waited months for this! To see Heinlein finally bought down.

"How's the food?" She gave a small laugh and nodded towards the IV drip that was Heinlein's only form of nourishment, "Just the bare minimum to keep you alive then. I've seen the X-rays, you really should have grown an alternate nerve route to your changeling organ, and you relied too much on exterior protection. Being a quadriplegic can't be any fun. Mind you, it won't be forever. After a week, month, six months or maybe as long as a year I'll come back to visit, except I'll have a little red button with me. Just one little press and all that C4 in you will go boom. You won't even know when or even see me. Just one moment you'll be alive, the next not.

With a huge amount of effort Heinlein twisted his head towards her, "The Rest Of us will make sure you die first, and your daughter and your friends!" he snarled.

Friday smiled, "Oh you mean the Guild Faction that's about to be rendered extinct. I don't think so. I set you up! Ambassador Kadhim is still alive, I saved him, and in a weeks time he'll be allowed to go back to his family. You will be publicly humiliated by my hand. In a month's time Omar will die, thanks to a little present I put inside him last time we met. I can't take credit for the arms deal that went wrong, or of Dr Abramovich's work being destroyed but the effects are very satisfactory and inevitably permanent."

Friday paused to take in the look in Heinlein's eyes. His dream was dead, he knew he was defeated and she relished every second of it. That's for Steve and his family she thought, "What else? Oh yes, and I managed to cure Jane and in week baby Elizabeth will have been born. You've failed! Just like Hassan did before you. Every job I ever did for you was to one end. To see you and your evil wiped from the face of the planet! Think on that as you lie here and wait to die!"

Heinlein turned his face away and closed his eyes, unable to face looking at her. Helpless and unable to move from the neck down it was the only way he could avoid her.

"Your walls look a little sparse and dull. So I've bought you a present, well three actually," Friday opened her bag and took out three rolled up posters.

Carefully she unrolled them and put one on the wall either side of Heinlein so that no matter what side he looked he would see a poster. Standing on the stool she then stuck another poster on the ceiling, right over Heinlein's head.

Friday jumped down from the stool, "its ok you can open your eyes now."

Heinlein did so and screamed an ear piercing roar of anger, fury, vengeance and helplessness.

Friday looked at the three posters and gave a wide grin, on every single one was a picture of her in her Dr Bexley face. No matter where he looked until his execution he would see her triumphant face looking back at him.

She left him, still swearing and cursing at her, and felt enormous satisfaction. Now THAT was payback!

--- oo ---

It was just getting light, and snow had just begun to fall. Neither of which bothered Friday, who was standing over three graves in a New York cemetery. She had had to break in, as it was too early for it to open. It was too dangerous to come here during the day and she would have to limit her visits. In fact this might even be her last for a long time. She was tired and needed a shower as she had headed here directly from South Dakota.

She bent down and placed a single red rose in front of each of the grave stones, just as she had done to Steve, his brother and his parent's graves. But now here she was at her own parents memorials. It always helped her to be here, after all it was the place where her very soul was bound to.

She straightened the rose on her father's grave, he always liked things just so. "Hi Dad, I'm back. In spite of everything, I'm still here!"

She paused for a second, gathering her thoughts and then resumed.

"I can't say much has changed in me since the last time I came. I still feel so alone, so lost and the pain of so many deaths still gives me nightmares. But I know there will be an end to it and knowing there will be an end, is a good beginning."

She saw a flashlight being shone around the cemetery, someone had obviously seen her. She quickly put a finger to her lips and pressed it again her mom and dad's gravestones, before running off and vaulting over a wall.

Back in her car, she felt as though she needed to say more than she was able to. Selecting disk 2 on her CD changer she listened to rock, more upbeat version of the song she'd played at her parent's house. Instead of being completely down tempo, the song filled her full of hope, while still bringing home how far she still had to go before she could call herself whole again.

 "I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me"

 These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me"

Her thoughts drifted to Matthew and Kat, just a few miles away from here. She knew they would make great parents. She so much wanted to be there at the birth, but she knew that once she saw her daughter, letting her go would be even harder than it already was going to be.

 "You used to captivate me
By your resonating life
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase."

Images of those she had killed and those who had died in the desperate fight against the Guild Faction flashed thru her mind. More names, more faces to add to the millions she still saw and would continue to see die in her dreams.

 "When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me."

And yet, she thought. Her daughter's birth was only days or even hours away. She would be the one to make it right again. The love she felt for her would not fade, would not grow dim. It would hold her secure in the darkest paths she had yet to walk. It, she would save her.

 "I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along."

A long, almost victorious guitar and drum rift lifted her spirits. The song was no longer about what had been, but was now about what would be. It was about a daughter about to be born and about love yet to be found. It was about hope.

 "When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me."

The ringing of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. She quickly picked it up, "Friday, It's time! She went into labor about an hour ago."

Friday didn't bother to reply, but started her car and headed as fast as the traffic would allow towards the hospital.

--- oo ---

Friday sat in the car, opposite the hospital where Kat and Matthew were due to have their baby, so many thoughts crossed her mind. Would the antidote really work? Did she create her cloned daughter correctly in the first place? So many thoughts, there was so much she was asking herself to give up. She'd been waiting for hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of a daughter she would never know and probably never meet. She flicked the CD player in her car on repeat and waited.

 "What ravages of spirit
conjured this tempestuous rage
created you a monster
broken by the rules of love
and fate has lead you through it
you do what you have to do
and fate has led you through it
you do what you have to do."

The words of song caused her to wonder, what would people say when they found out baby Elizabeth's true identity? What would Elizabeth think herself when she found out, as she must at some point? She hoped by then, enough time would have passed for the memories of what she had done to fade. Baby Elizabeth, her last and only hope.

 "and I have the sense to recognize that
I don't know how to let you go
every moment marked
with apparitions of your soul
I'm ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire
the yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
the yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
but I have the sense to recognize
that I don't know how
to let you go
I don't know how
to let you go"

From the corner of her eye, she saw them! Matthew looked tired, and Kat looked shattered. Before she saw the small bundle in a car seat, she saw the look of joy across their faces. She'd done it! Elizabeth was alive and well! She felt tears of sadness, but also of joy well up in her eyes.

"a glowing ember
burning hot
burning slow
deep within I'm shaken by the violence
of existing for only you"

She felt a burning almost soul crushing ache to run over and look at her daughter and it almost overpowered her. Thru gritted teeth and utter determination she stayed where she was. Her daughter deserved better than she could give her, deserved a chance to be more than she ever was, deserved to be bought up by the only people who she trusted to do it. She'd keep an eye on her via newspapers and her CIA sources as she grew up, but that was a close as she dare come. It was ironic that, laying wrapped in blankets, entrusted to the couple whose future she'd tried to end; was her future. It was her ultimate gift to them, and her ultimate sacrifice.

 "I know I can't be with you
I do what I have to do
I know I can't be with you
I do what I have to do
and I have sense to recognize but
I don't know how to let you go
I don't know how to let you go
I don't know how to let you go"

Tearfully, she watched Matthew and Kat carry baby Elizabeth, her daughter from the maternity ward and place her into their car. She could see the love in their eyes as one after the other they bent down and kissed baby Elizabeth's forehead.

She couldn't stand this any more. She just had to see her, to have one hold before she let her go. After all she had gone thru to save her daughters life, she deserved at least one cuddle, to look just once into her eyes and see the love in there. With tears streaming from her eyes she unlatched the seatbelt, and then opened the door a little.

"What the hell am I doing?" she told herself, and grabbed hold of the wheel with both hands and braced herself against the seat, forcing her to stay in the car. "Elizabeth, Stay where you are!" she sobbed, but clung on to the wheel with all her strength, anything less and she knew her will would fail.

She tried to not to look, but maternal instinct took over and she had to. "No. She needs to be with them!" she forced herself to say, as if it could somehow stop her from doing what every emotion in her body was screaming her to do. After what seemed an age and by an act of pure force of will over instinct she closed the car door and fastened her seatbelt once again, as the car with her new born daughter inside started to drive away.

'What's fourteen more years when you have at least another century,' she thought, with fresh tears pouring down her face, as the car slowly drove off. Taking with it, and sitting silently in a small baby seat her last, best hope of redemption.

Finis

Elizabeth Cathline Stephens story and that of a few others is continued in The Fury Saga Book 8 - Soul Mates ------------------------------------------- I've not got any more 'Friday' stories planned right now, but if you would like more, just let me know. I'm sure I can think of something :D Song Lyrics Used. ----------------------- Requiem Overture From The Two Towers - Howard Shore Fields Of Innocence - Evanescence My Tourniquet - Evanescence Breathe No More - Evanescence My Immortal - Evanescence Nightmare Surfer Babe - Marillion Weapon - Matthew Good Band Full Of Grace - Sarah McLachlan Little By Little - Alice Cooper Dangerous Tonight - Alice Cooper Bring Me To Life - Evanescence Mad World - Gary Jules My Last Breath - Evanescence Do what you have to do - Sarah McLachlan

Fury Saga Timeline ----------------------- Hell Hath No Fury Birth Of Nemesis Kat O Nine Tales Incubus The Fury Directive *** And All My Dreams Torn Asunder *** Soul Mates

 

 

~And All My Dreams Torn Asunder~ © 2004 by Darkside
Illustrations © 2004 by Beverly Colleen And Respective Original Artists
All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.

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