Genomorph Part 2 free porn video

Synopsis: Brandi's journey of self discovery begins with a tour of Southern California. A sinister plan is revealed and an unexpected ally is found. Warning: This story contains no graphic sexual content but does have adult situations and language. There are also action scenes with graphic descriptions of violence. Genomorph Part 2 By Scott Ramsey Edited by Janet Nolan and Carla Winters CHAPTER 8 Brandi opened her eyes and blinked groggily in the morning light. The vibration of the semi as it cruised up the interstate brought her mind into focus and she remembered where she was. She straightened up in the passenger seat of the semi, noticing that a blanket had been stretched over her as she slept. She smiled at the big truck driver in thanks. "When you sleep you sho sleep sound," Arnie Belcher commented with a grin from the driver's seat. "I guess I was pretty tired," Brandi said. In truth, she did not require much sleep and could go for days without it. But she had learned that she could slip into a deep, restorative sleep when necessary, which she had taken to calling 'Zen Sleep'. The only disadvantage was that once in that state she tended to stay that way until she had recovered sufficiently and was for all practical purposes helpless. That she had allowed herself to slip into it in the cab of the truck meant that her escape had taxed her more than she had thought... and that she really did trust Arnie, despite the fact that she had only met him a few hours earlier. "Where are we?" She asked, looking at passing scenery that was familiar. "Headin north outta San Diego," Arnie told her. "Made my stop about twenty minutes ago... you slept through the whole thing." "We're near Coronado aren't we?" "Just passed it a few minutes fore you woke up," Arnie confirmed. "You know San Diego?" "Not well," Brandi told him. "I knew someone stationed at the Naval Base... once." Brandon had been stationed at Coronado during his first tour with the SEALs. As a young ensign, he had tended to stay close to the base and now Brandi was wishing she... he... had taken more time to explore the city. Damn this is confusing. Brandi thought. The world around her looked so fresh and new and yet at the same time she could remember seeing it all before. "You mind if I smoke, Brandi?" Arnie asked, reaching for a pack of Marlboro 100's in the center console. "I know I shouldn't but sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me awake on these here long hauls." Brandi had noticed the cigarettes earlier and had been staring at the pack off and on for some time; a desire for one had been building within her. That is too weird, she thought. I've never smoked in my life. As soon as she thought it, she realized it was not quite accurate. Brandon had never smoked in his life. She had really only been alive for four months and had been born with certain behavior programmed into her, much of which had been gathered from pornographic web sites. In the lab she had never been around cigarettes, so perhaps the behavior had remained dormant until now. Great, I wonder what other surprises might be waiting for me. "I don't mind, especially if you're willing to share," Brandi answered Arnie with a smile. There was no sense in fighting it, especially since it couldn't do her any harm. Disease; even cancer was no longer a concern of hers. Besides it was far preferable than giving in to other impulses she had been programmed with, at least in her mind. "Well I hate to see a pretty young lady like yourself messin up her health like me, but ain't my place to stop ya," Arnie said. "There's a buncha packs in the glove box, help yourself." Brandi took a pack from the glove box and opened. She lit one with Arnie's Zippo lighter and took a deep drag, not sure what to expect. She was surprised that she actually enjoyed it. She had expected it just to be bland, programmed behavior, but apparently the protocol had wired her to receive satisfaction from the vice. But then her programmed sexual desire and the pleasure she got from indulging it was far from bland, so there was really no reason for this to be. It also seemed to ease her tension, quiet the need that had been growing within her since she left the lab. Being in the confines of the truck cab, so close to a man was not making things easier. Arnie was not exactly her type though, but that thought brought little comfort. It meant she actually had a type of man that would appeal to her. She had only been out in the world a few hours and she was already beginning to wonder if she had made a terrible mistake. In the lab they had treated her like a thing, except for Susan of course, but in the world would she just be treated as a different kind of thing? She knew people would see her body first and foremost. After all, that was the whole point of the Genomorph program. Would that be any better than being seen as a lab rat? She had one spark of hope and it was the big trucker. He treated her like a person. No, that was not right; he treated her like a lady. When they stopped he helped her out of and later into the truck. His eyes never wandered nor did his hands. When they talked, he listened to her and did not discount what she said just because she was a voluptuous blonde that acted like a bit of a ditz. And she found that with Arnie she could carry on a normal conversation, like she had with Susan and the Admiral. She did not feel the need to slip into 'bimbo speak', though it sometimes still colored her speech. What was different about Arnie? Was it just because she felt safe around him? She studied Arnie as they drove along the interstate. He was a big man, at least six foot four, but he was in fairly good shape, with just the hint of a 'spare tire' around his middle. She guessed he was in his early to mid thirties and he had a mop of thick, red hair atop his head. She noticed he had a set of dog tags hanging from the rear view mirror. "So you were in the service?" Brandi asked, gesturing towards the dog tags. "Yeah, doin the same thing I do now," Arnie confirmed. "Course, drivin' in Iraq was a mite more exciting than it is here," When he said Iraq it came out as Eye-rack. "I can imagine," Brandi muttered, the night that forever changed her life coming to mind all too vividly. Reflexively her hand reached down to rub her right leg. "I really do appreciate the lift Arnie," Brandi continued after a bit. "And I appreciate you not asking a lot of questions, especially after I stowed away in your truck. "Maybe I could, like, pay you somehow?" she continued, her voice taking on a suggestive tone. Arnie shot her a disapproving look and Brandi's blood froze. It had sounded like a total come on and it was not even what she had meant to say. So much for not sounding like a bimbo around him. "Shit Arnie, I am so sorry," she told him. "I didn't mean that to sound the way it did. I meant maybe I could help you unloading. I'm a lot stronger than I look." Arnie chuckled and said, "Don't fret none, just kinda took me by surprise. You oughta be careful though darlin'. A pretty girl like you, well, some fellas would be more'n happy to take advantage when ya say somethin' like that." "I know," Brandi sighed. "Sometimes I want to say something and the words come out wrong. I really hate it when I do it." "Aww that's nothin' you got a corner on, Brandi," Arnie assured her. "My mouth works faster than my brain all the time." As they traveled they talked and she learned more about Arnie. He had been born and raised in Alabama, was not married though he had a sweetheart back in Birmingham and he had been driving since he was eighteen, when he had joined the army. His reserve unit had been activated at the start of the war and then after his tour he had gone back to trucking. His current load was auto parts for various parts houses. Of course he was curious about her, but he did not pry too much. She told him she had been in a bad relationship and had left, trying to figure out where her life was going. It was basically the truth. She also assured him that she was over twenty-one, which was true as her ID showed that she was six months past her twenty-first birthday. Ryan had used February fourteenth, Valentine's Day, as her birthday. No doubt he had figured using Brandon's birthday or the date of her transformation was too risky, providing a potential means of locating her established identity as Brenda Williams. And he probably thought using Valentine's Day was funny. An hour later they made their next stop and Brandi insisted on helping Arnie with the unloading. Most of the parts were small; alternators and water pumps and such and the unloading proceeded swiftly. There was one stack of boxes left for this stop. Arnie was trying to force the blade of a hand truck under the stack and did not notice a crated transmission, perched precariously above him on the stack to his right. As he rammed the cart blade home, he bumped the stack and the transmission began to fall. "Arnie, look out!" Brandi cried, yanking the big trucker backwards as she did. The hand truck and its load went with him, back and to the floor as Brandi caught the crate. She eased it gently to the floor and then turned to make sure Arnie had not been hurt when he fell. "Good God A'mighty girl, you are stronger then ya look!" Arnie exclaimed. "That transmission's gotta weigh close to two hunerd pounds!" "Well, I just kinda balanced it against the stack there and let gravity do the rest," Brandi said sheepishly. She had lifted far greater weights in the lab. "Well, you sho saved me from a dented skull," Arnie said. "I'm glad I let ya help now, that's fo sho." With the unloading finished, Arnie went off to the office with the store manager to get his paperwork taken care of. Brandi took a seat at a small break table outside the loading dock and lit a cigarette. "Hey, I've never seen you around here before." Brandi looked up at the young man speaking and smiled, a totally reflexive action. He was about her age, her actual biological age of seventeen and was tall and lanky. He was definitely not a hunk but he was cute enough, with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes. He took a seat on the concrete bench next to her and smiled back. "I've never been around here," she said sweetly. "I'm Brandi. I'm gonna be movin' out here and my uncle Arnie is showin' me around while he makes his deliveries." Arnie had suggested the story. Though the rig was his and he could give someone a lift if he wanted, some companies got a little nervous if people hauling for them picked up hitchers. The problem was as soon as she opened her mouth to speak to Jeremy she slipped into character. But even though she did not know this boy, he was certainly no threat to her, so why was she reacting as though he was? "Nice to meet you, Brandi," the boy said. "My name's Jeremy. You plan on going to school out here?" "I'm not sure what I'm gonna do yet," Brandi said. Now she could feel herself slipping into 'tease mode' as she called it. Already she had adjusted her posture; sitting up straighter and making her breasts jut forward against her T-shirt. She could feel his eyes roving over her and as hard as she tried not to, she loved the attention. She felt her state of arousal increasing under his gaze. That was the most disturbing thing; she really did love the attention. She did not know whether it was programmed into her or because of her female brain chemistry. In the end, was there really any difference? It was just one type of programming versus another. But with the arousal came terror and suddenly she knew why she was acting according to her programmed cover personality. It was fear. Even the calmest, coolest operator felt an underlying current of fear when entering into danger. It was what kept them sharp, gave them an edge. If her programming was keyed to her own fear response, then that would explain why she was acting like she was. She wasn't afraid of Jeremy, she was afraid of herself. She was afraid of the feelings stirring within her ...feelings she did not have with Arnie because he did not react to her the way Jeremy did. And that fear was driving her to act in a way that was only making it worse! "A good looking girl like you should be modeling clothes or something," Jeremy said, quite seriously. Yeah right, Brandi thought. With this body the only magazines that would be interested in me wouldn't care about clothes. What she said was, "Really? You think I'm pretty enough for that?" "Well yeah!" Jeremy said. "I've never seen a girl as pretty as you." "Aw, now you're gonna make me blush," Brandi giggled. And dammit she did start blushing! She knew she should get up and walk away; tell him she had to go get something from the truck, tell him she had to go to the ladies room... anything. But a very large part of her was enjoying the game and the attention, even amidst the fear it bred within her. And she realized it was a game. She knew that he was hers to take if she chose. He would think he was making all the moves but in reality he was just putty in her hands. She could have her way with him... all she had to do was give in. Hurry up Arnie...please! *** "Nice little road twitch ya got there Arnie," the store manager said with a grin. "I'd 'preciate it if ya didn't talk about my sister's little girl that way Max," Arnie said and the grin disappeared. Arnie could see Brandi at the break table on the dock, talking with a kid who worked at the warehouse. She seemed to be having a good time. Of course Arnie knew the boy likely had only one thing on his mind. He wasn't blind; he knew that Brandi was a very beautiful girl. He figured she could handle herself well enough. While Max was going over the paperwork for the load Arnie pulled his tablet PC from his briefcase and logged onto the Independent Truckers Association website. Though Arnie appeared to most as a simple long haul trucker, he actually had a two year degree in business management and his rig was equipped with all the hi tech gadgets necessary to keep him working all he wanted without tying him to the same trips repeatedly. Once the site loaded he checked the available freight board and found a suitable load in San Francisco bound for LA, scheduled to be ready for pickup the next morning. It was from a small computer manufacturer and the price was right, so he filled out the required information and submitted his availability. After he logged off he made a quick cell phone call to the company to confirm the load and by then Max had the paperwork ready for him to sign. As Arnie left the office, another worker from the warehouse walked over to him as he stopped to get a drink from a water fountain, a big smile on his face. "How's it goin', Arnie?" the man asked. "It's goin' Joe, it's goin'," Arnie grinned, shaking the man's offered hand. "Glad to see this job is workin out for ya." "Yeah, it's pretty good," Joe said. "Max can be a real boor sometimes but everyone mostly ignores him. I heard what you told him about the girl." "Yeah well..." "Seems I remember you don't have a sister Arnie," Joe said, still grinning. "Aww she just needs a little time ta get her head together 'sall," Arnie said. "She's a sweet kid really." "Still pickin' up strays huh Arnie?" Joe asked. "Why do you do it?" "Fella did something for me once; saved my life," Arnie said, his eyes looking haunted for a moment. "Since then, I figger I owe it ta him ta help folks out when I can. Anyway this one found me. She snuck inta the sleeper last night while I was makin a pit stop." "Well, you know the secret is safe with me," Joe said, slapping Arnie on the back. "I still remember when I was the stray. I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't picked me up. You've got a good heart Arnie." *** "I think you're really cute Jeremy," Brandi giggled. Her mind was screaming for her to shut up, but instead she slid over on the concrete bench until her body was touching his. The more she tried to deny the feelings welling up inside her the deeper she slipped into her role. "Say, um, there's a party at my frat house this Friday night; maybe you'd like to go?" Jeremy asked. "Oh wow, a party," Brandi said. "That sounds like it would be really fun!" "So you'll go with me?" Brandi opened her mouth to answer and she knew the answer was going to be yes. She was spinning out of control now and the thought of a house full of fraternity boys had driven her into a mental frenzy. There was not even a thought of turning him down. Why should she? She was a hot girl and she deserved to have a little fun. "Time to go Brandi," Arnie said as he stepped up to the table. Brandi's mind snapped out of the fog it was in and she breathed a mental sigh of relief. "Aww gee, I'd really like to but I don't know where I'll be by then," Brandi answered instead as she bounced to her feet. "It was really sweet of you to ask though. Take care, Jeremy!" "Well you sho looked like you was havin' a good time," Arnie said as they walked back to the truck. "Oh, I was and I wasn't Arnie," Brandi replied, earning her a puzzled look. "Let's just say I don't have a lot of self control or common sense when I'm talking to boys." "Well, you don't gotta worry none Brandi," Arnie smiled, putting his big arm around her shoulder. "Ole uncle Arnie will make sho they don' give ya no trouble." CHAPTER 9 Susan looked up from her desk at the sound of knocking, to see Admiral Michael Hammerstein standing in the doorway to her office. "I had a feeling I might be seeing you soon Admiral, please come in and have a seat," Susan said smiling. "My friends call me Mike and I think you and I should be friends," The Admiral said as he closed the door behind him. He took a seat before Susan's desk and smiled. "I think you're right Mike, please call me Susan." "I don't suppose you've heard anything from her," Hammerstein said without preamble. "I'm the last person she would contact," Susan replied. "Brandi will know that I am being watched carefully. This office is secure, though, so you can speak freely. And yes, Mike, before you ask, if I did hear from Brandi I would find a way to let you know. She trusts you and I know you're deeply concerned about her." "I had been keeping my eye on Brandon for a long time," Hammerstein told her. "I could see him one day taking my job. But as special as he was, there's something even more special about Brandi. She has all of his drive... his sense of duty and commitment, but on top of all of that she has such innocence. I hope she can hold onto it." "What's the attitude in Washington?" Susan asked. "I'm afraid I missed my meeting." "The 'Organization' is running this show for now," Hammerstein said bitterly. "And they want Brandi back. I have been told in no uncertain terms that my involvement with this affair is over." "What are you going to do?" "Whatever I have to," Hammerstein said, his voice filled with conviction. "I just feel so damn helpless!" The Admiral growled, springing to his feet and pacing about the office, "It's like my daughter is out on her first date or something, if you know what I mean." "I know exactly what you mean Mike." "Do you think she can do it? Can she... I don't know... can she come to terms with who she is now?" "I believe this is the only chance she has to become a real, genuine woman and not some set of programmed responses," Susan told him. "She needs to be out in the world, to interact with people and learn how to fit in. And yes, she needs to screw up and fall flat on her ass a few times as well. It's how we learn. "Brandi was kept in an emotionally and socially sterile environment here. I tried my best but she needs that wide variety of interactions that can only come from living in the real world if she is going to develop." "Still, I wish she didn't have to do it alone," Hammerstein muttered. "She won't be alone," Susan assured him. "She'll make friends, probably a lot more easily than she could believe. Despite the environment she was trapped in here, Brandi is a very outgoing person, far more so than Brandon ever was. My biggest concern is that she will have a hard time keeping a low profile." "Why do you say that?" "Because one thing she most surely retains from Brandon is a sense of justice and a proactive approach to dealing with conflict," Susan said. "She won't back down from a fight if one is forced upon her. And with her heightened combat abilities, she may even seek it out." "I would have pitied the poor fool that tried to start something with Brandon," Hammerstein grunted. "I pity them more if they try it with Brandi." *** "Is Doctor Covington going to be a problem?" the Man asked quietly. He had no name, no identity. Officially he did not exist. And yet he wielded power that made presidents tremble. For forty years he had run the organization, which also did not officially exist, except in rumor and most of those rumors were fostered to mislead. "I don't believe so sir," Reginald Mercer replied. "She won't help us in any way, I am certain. In fact I believe if given the opportunity she would help the girl elude us and we can possibly turn that to our advantage." "Cut her loose?" "Yes sir. The girl will never try to contact her as long as she is associated with the project. But if she were to be removed and were out in public and more accessible, the girl might get careless." "You really do have a problem using her name don't you?" The Man smirked. He had seen the reports Covington had filed, her assertions that Mercer's obvious animosity towards Brandi and his continued refusal to address her as a person was only making matters worse. It was undoubtedly true. Mercer was a toad, totally lacking in any ability to exercise tact or diplomacy. He would never rise above his current position in the organization. But he was a useful toad and why the girl had become rebellious was immaterial. Their intention was to break down her personality and make her a pliable tool. The sooner they had her back in their custody the better. "Very well, I'll start the wheels turning. It will take some time, Doctor Covington has friends. She should be off the project by the end of the week. How is the rest of the plan proceeding?" "On schedule," Mercer said. "Our operatives are continuing with the sleeper programming and we will be ready to activate them on schedule." "Excellent," the Man smiled. *** Kevin Driscoll was looking forward to a weekend off. Most people would see his job, part of the Secret Service detail for the President's Chief of Staff, as exotic and exciting. Mostly it was routine with an underlying current of tension. There was a lot of traveling which led to lots of jet lag. A weekend was something to be treasured. As he was on his way home he decided to stop at a bar in Georgetown for a couple of beers. He was on his second when he spied the woman. She was tall and willowy, with long, dark red hair and smoldering eyes. She noticed his gaze and smiled a sultry smile. A short time later they were seated in a booth talking and laughing. Kevin thought of himself as a ladies man and he was handsome and of course his job required him to be fit. He was beginning to think his weekend might turn out even better than he had anticipated. "That's an interesting pendant you have," he commented. The redhead wore a large purple gem on a silver chain about her neck. The chain was just long enough that the pendant nestled in her cleavage, which was where his gaze kept straying. The stone was oval and about the size of a large egg. It was set in a silver frame that looked like some kind of stylized circuit board. "It is fascinating isn't it," she said in a sultry alto. Her hand grasped the pendant and extended it towards him so he could get a better look. Kevin saw a bright purple flash, like the stone had caught a ray of sunlight and blinked reflexively. "Be a dear Kevin and go out to your car and wait for me," the redhead said. Obediently Kevin rose and left the bar. The woman waited a few minutes and then left as well. She walked out to Kevin's Dodge Stratus and climbed in on the passenger side. Kevin remained as he was seated behind the wheel staring ahead blankly. "Look at me Kevin," the woman said. Kevin did as he was asked and turned to face her. The redhead reached into her purse and removed a device, which looked like a miniature ophthalmologist's vision tester, with straps to secure it in place. She settled the device over Kevin's eyes, secured it in place and then looked through the eyepieces on her side to verify that it was aligned correctly. After a few brief adjustments she sat back and smiled. "Just relax and enjoy the show Kevin," she said as she pressed a button on the device. Kevin awoke the next morning, thinking he was very glad he had decided to come straight home and get a good night's sleep instead of stopping off for a beer or two. It always ended up being more and there was no reason to start the weekend off with a hangover. And the sleep had done him good. He felt great. In fact as much as he had been looking forward to the weekend he was eager to get back to work. He showered and shaved and after dressing he stopped at his dresser and looked at himself in the mirror, making sure his hair was styled just right. On the dresser top, next to his pistol and ID was a silver case about the size of a thick paperback novel. Kevin opened the case. Inside was an odd looking pair of goggles and a large purple pendant on a silver chain. He took the pendant out and placed it around his neck and then closed the case. Yes he really was ready for Monday to arrive. He had a lot of work to do. CHAPTER 10 Brandi left the drug store; she had stopped in to pick up some much needed toiletries and began walking back to the hotel she was staying in for the night. She had offered to get a room for Arnie as well, but he insisted on sleeping in his truck and could not be talked out of it. She had finally settled on getting two keys from the desk and gave him one, making him promise to use it if he needed the bathroom. She was very restless and it had little to do with her sexual desire. In the four months she had been in the lab, she had undergone almost daily testing. Many of the tests were sparring matches to track the development of her combat abilities and they were the one thing that had kept her sane. Though she had only been gone for a day, her last match had been the week before and the tension of her escape was only making matters worse. She really wanted to blow off some steam. And her sex drive did figure into it in a way; the training had always helped her release some of that tension. It provided her with a chance to flirt with her partners without the risk of it going too far and the satisfaction she got after defeating a group of guys much bigger than her was almost as good as what she felt when she pleasured herself... almost. Arnie had warned her not to stray far from the hotel; the area to the south was gang territory. An idea formed in her mind and she smiled. It was a little out of character; she would be technically picking a fight and that was not her style. Then she realized it was not Brandon's style... but she was not Brandon anymore. She looked at her reflection in the window of the store she was passing. Even in the baggy T-shirt and BDUs she knew she looked hot... but she could look hotter. The proper attire would make her look like more enticing bait. There was a Target in the shopping center and she started towards it but stopped suddenly as she was passing a small store called Sassy. She gazed for a moment at the tight, sexy clothing displayed in the window and before she knew it she was inside. Thirty minutes later she was in her hotel room, dressed in a neon pink lycra crop top with a scooped neck. It was the largest size they had carried and it stopped well above her navel, exposing her slim waist and tight stomach and emphasizing her large breasts as it clung to them. Across the front the word 'Tease' was emblazoned in glittering silver. Her BDUs had been replaced by a pair of black spandex pants that looked like she had applied them with a brush and she wore a pair of short leather boots with wide three inch heels. She found she could walk with no problem in the heels after a few minutes of practice, though she dreaded the thought of wearing stilettos. A small black purse completed the outfit; she would need it as there was no way to fit anything in the pockets of the skintight pants. She stared at herself in the mirror for a few minutes and then looked at the pink makeup kit she had purchased. She opened it with all the care she would have used with a suspicious package and then sighed and went to work. "I look like a clown," she moaned after her first attempt. Fortunately she'd had the foresight to buy some makeup removal clothes and she cleaned her face thoroughly. Her second attempt was little better, but by the third she managed something that was passable. "Now I only look like a hooker," she giggled. Still she expected the look would work for her plan. Now came the hard part. She spent several more minutes staring at her image in the mirror, working up the nerve to follow through. It was not the danger that bothered her; it was walking out the door looking so obviously like a sexy girl. And there was a part of her that was reveling in the look, the feel of the material against her breasts, the way her nipples were so visible and obvious through the thin top; the way the tight pants and high heels emphasized her round ass. "All right, girl," she said to the image, addressing herself by that pronoun for the first time, "let's go find someone to play with." She hailed a cab and once inside asked the driver "Is there a park nearby, something south of the interstate?" "Yeah, the rec center has a park," The man said. "That ain't no place for a girl like you to be this time of night though Miss." Brandi pulled a hundred dollar bill from her purse and passed it to the driver. "Okay honey, it's your funeral." Brandi lit a cigarette and settled back for the ride. She studied every detail of the route, committing landmarks to memory in case she had to make her way back on foot. As Brandon she had always had a good memory for detail. Now she had a true photographic memory. Her brain recorded everything she saw down to the minutest detail and she could recall it at any time like bringing up a file on a computer. It was one aspect of the change that had made things particularly difficult for her, because she could access Brandon's memories just as clearly, even those he had long forgotten. Often all it took was something that triggered a memory from long past and she practically relived it in a flash. The cab pulled to a stop at a small park and Brandi got out, then turned and leaned in to speak to the driver, giving him a clear look down her top. She felt a thrill run through her, as his eyes seemed unable to tear away from the sight. "There's another hundred for you if you meet me right here in one hour," Brandi told him. "If I don't show within ten minutes, leave." "Lady you are certifiable, but I'll be here," The cabby said. As she started walking, Brandi began humming a tune. It was 'Girl's Just Wanna Have Fun' by Cyndi Lauper and though she had heard the song many times as Brandon, it was never a favorite. But she found she could recall any song she had ever heard, even if it was only once, as perfectly as though it was playing on a radio in her head. Before long she was singing softly. I come home in the morning light, my mother says when you gonna live your life right, Oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones, And girls, just wanna have fun Oh girls just wanna have fun She detected her playmates for the night just ten minutes after the cab dropped her off. There were six of them and she could feel their excitement as they shadowed her at a distance. She left the sidewalk and cut into the park like she was trying to cut the corner. The shadows closed around and she knew they were moving up on her. She started singing louder. That's all they really want... Some fun... When the working day is done, Girls, they wanna have fun, Oh girls just wanna have fun. "Yo baby, we got your fun right here," A voice called from behind. Brandi whirled, a look of abject terror coming to her face. The six looked to be in their late teens and early twenties. None of them appeared to be wearing anything readily identifiable as gang colors, but she knew that many of the gangs had stopped displaying colors in recent years in order to avoid the attention of the police. "Wh... whada you guys wa... want?" She stammered, playing the part and drawing them into her web. "Whoa, look at the rack on this biatch," The largest of the six said. He was at least six four and looked like he worked out. Brandi was surrounded now and she looked wildly about for a way to escape. To the punks she seemed like a frightened girl but she knew she was the predator and they were the prey. "Yeah cuzz," a pimply, vole-faced youth said. "I bet she lookin' to machine. I got what you want right here baby." To emphasize his words the youth grabbed his crotch and howled. Brandi fought back the urge to laugh. "Yeah, we can party good with this bitch," The one that appeared to be the leader said. He looked to be the oldest and the others kept glancing at him. "You wanna play, dontcha ho?" Brandi dropped the frightened girl act and smiled sexily as she dropped her purse to the ground. "Well I think we're all kinda big for the swing set," she purred. "Did you, like, wanna do something else? I mean I was kinda scared you wanted to hurt me, but if all you wanna do is play I'm up for it." "It ain't gonna hurt baby," the older one said. "You gonna love every minute." "Well, okay. But if you really wanted to play you shoulda brought some more friends, 'cause I'm, like, used to real men, not boys," Brandi told them. "If you try real hard maybe you can satisfy me... I doubt it though." "I'll show you a real man!" The big one said as he advanced towards her. Brandi attacked, launching a lightning fast spinning back kick that drove her foot into his diaphragm. His lungs emptied in a whoosh and his feet actually left the ground, his two hundred twenty pound body knocked back several feet. He hit the ground hard and lay there, struggling to draw breath. His friends stopped, stunned. "Well come on boys, aren't we gonna play?" Brandi asked, her eyes dancing and her face lit by a mischievous grin. "Get the bitch!" The leader snarled. The others produced a variety of weapons from their baggy clothing. She did not see any guns, which was good since she really did not want to get shot. "Aww, are you guys, like, too young to be given guns?" She dug at them. "I bet all the really cool gang bangers have guns." Deciding to show off Brandi leapt straight up, kicking out with both legs to catch two in the face, one in front and one behind her. Then she shifted her momentum into a back flip while still in the air, landing on her feet clear of the encircling gang members. "Look, no wires!" She giggled, waving her hands around her body for emphasis. Then she placed her hands on her hips and pouted severely. "Like, I don't think you guys are givin' me your best effort," she scolded. "You're never gonna attract the tourist crowd if ya don't put on a good show. Maybe I shoulda gone to Disneyland. Those seven dwarves could probably do better." The gang bangers regrouped and a pair with chains rushed forward, swinging simultaneously. Brandi caught the chains, allowing them to wrap around her wrists. Then she planted her feet hard and pulled with all her strength, which was considerable, pulling the two boys off balance. As their momentum carried them towards her she jumped, her legs coming up as she released the chains, her feet catching them each under the chin, snapping their heads back. They flopped to the ground on their backs, unconscious. "They look so cute when they're sleepin'!" Brandi giggled as she landed. She knew she was having far too much fun with this exercise and that point was driven home as she felt a slashing pain across her upper right arm. She turned towards her attacker just in time to catch a return slash from his knife across her right cheek. "Owww!" She cried, her hand reflexively going to her face. The cuts were deep and blood was running down her face and arm, but already the wounds were tingling and she knew they were healing. "How do you like that bitch?" The knife wielder snarled. "This?" Brandi touched her face again. "It's not even a scratch." Before the eyes of her formerly jubilant opponent, the wounds stopped bleeding and closed until they were just red lines. Within an hour there would be no trace they had ever been there. "H... holy shit!" He cried and then threw the knife to the ground and ran. The one she had pegged as the leader and the sixth gang member came in, knives slashing. Brandi deflected or avoided each of the attacks laughing all the while. Then she very narrowly avoided a vicious slash that would have opened up her belly quite effectively and decided that playtime was over. She disarmed the two and threw them to the ground then danced lithely out of their reach. "Well you guys have been moderately entertaining," she smiled sweetly. "Now run along before I, like, really have to hurt you." She heard a roar of fury and turned in time to catch a full body tackle from the first gang banger she had put down. She hit the ground hard on her back and kicked upwards with her legs, flipping her attacker over her head and continuing the motion to bring her back to her feet, twisting around to face him. He was definitely big; Arnie's height though not as burly. As she turned to face him he charged again, swinging with both fists. Brandi ducked below the fists, bending her knees and lowering her center of gravity before hammering his already bruised diaphragm with a series of powerful jabs. Then she hopped back and jumped into a roundhouse kick that smashed him across the jaw. She heard the crack of bone and blood and teeth sprayed from his mouth. He too dropped to the ground and did not get up. Turning back to the two remaining, conscious gang bangers, she saw that only the leader remained the other having taken her advice and run. The leader too decided that discretion was the better part of valor and scrambled to his feet, sprinting off. "Not so fast cutie," Brandi giggled. He was kind of cute and she was still feeling a little frisky. She snatched up one of the chains, whirled it over her head and threw it. The chain whipped through the air and caught the fleeing youth at the knees, wrapping around his legs and bringing him to the ground. As he rolled onto his back, Brandi skipped over to him, dropping to her knees and straddling his hips. "You are kinda cute," she said dreamily, then bent forward and planted a warm, wet kiss on his lips. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, probing, darting. Then she broke the kiss and straightened up. "Time to play that game you wanted to from the start lover," She said breathily, her hands rising to fondle her breasts. There was no mental conflict now. She had fought and won and now she wanted her reward. She began pulling the lycra top up slowly, teasingly, as the young man struggled beneath her. The sound of a horn broke her from the moment and she looked up to see that the cab had returned. He was early, thank God and she hastily pulled the top back down, her mind snapping back to clarity, horrified at what she had been about to do. "We'll get you bitch!" The youth beneath her snarled. "We'll come back with our homies and you'll be sorry!" "Yeah right," Brandi laughed. "Like you are really gonna tell your homies you got your asses kicked by a girl. They'll laugh you out of the clubhouse. You guys do have a clubhouse, right?" Without another word, Brandi crossed his jaw with her right fist and put him out. Then she hopped to her feet, retrieved her purse and ran to the cab. "You're early," she told the driver as she climbed in. "Well I felt kinda guilty leaving you here," He chuckled, looking out at the comatose forms of the gang members. "I guess you had the situation under control." "No, I really didn't," Brandi muttered as she lit a cigarette. "Thanks for saving me from a really bad mistake." CHAPTER 11 Arnie pulled the Kenworth and its loaded trailer onto the highway early the next morning and they were bound for San Francisco. Brandi was silent for most of the drive; she had a lot to think about. For the most part her nocturnal exercise had worked. She had awakened refreshed and feeling far less pent up tension, though she had engaged in some intimate exercise before going to sleep. But she had very nearly given in to the very thing she was trying to avoid. Maybe it was just adrenaline; I was just caught up in the heat of the moment, she thought. He was really cute after all. Dammit stop thinking that! Most troubling was that it had not been like before with Jeremy. Then it had been like she was watching as her body reacted against her wishes. In the park, she had known exactly what she was doing and had wanted it. Was she becoming exactly what she was so afraid she would? "You been awful quiet this mornin' Brandi," Arnie said, breaking her from her introspection. "I have a lot of issues to deal with," Brandi sighed. "You figured out what you're gonna do?" "Some," Brandi said. "I was waiting till later to tell you, but I've decided that when you get back to LA with your next load I'll be staying there. I need to start getting my life in order." "Yeah I kinda expected that," Arnie said. "LA's a good place for you. Why I bet in no time I'll be seein' you on a movie screen somewhere." "I don't think you watch the kind of movies that would want me Arnie." "Now don't you go sellin' yourself short girl!" Arnie said his voice edged with anger. "You're smart and you're pretty and a girl puts them two together and look out world!" "Arnie, I'm a dizzy blonde, you know that," Brandi giggled. "Now, you act all silly most of the time but I been watchin' you," Arnie said seriously. "You got a brain and you know how to use it. "Thanks Arnie that means a lot," Brandi said sincerely. "I don't mean to act the way I do... it just sorta happens." "Well, ya know sometimes it's easier to show people a mask than our real face," Arnie said seriously. They reached San Francisco by mid morning and after dropping the load they drove to the electronics warehouse to pick up the trailer there. When they arrived Arnie was told there had been a delay and the load would not be ready until late the next morning. But they did have another load they needed delivered to a distributor about two hours to the east in Oakdale. Arnie accepted the load saying, "Hey, mo money in my pocket," and they were off to Oakdale. After dropping that trailer, Arnie pulled into a hotel, saying they could drive back to San Francisco in the morning in plenty of time to get the LA bound trailer. "Why don't we go grab a few beers tonight?" Arnie suggested. "Sorta as a goodbye celebration." "You know I haven't had a beer in a long time," Brandi said. She was fairly certain she could control how intoxicated she got. The last thing she needed was to get falling down drunk. "That sounds like a great idea." They found a decent little country and western bar just down the road from the hotel, close enough that they could walk. It had a live band that was pretty good and they found a table far enough away that they could talk. When the waitress came for their orders she asked Brandi for ID and took a long look at it before handing it back. Brandi smiled and ordered a Killian's for herself and a Coors for Arnie, having told him already that she was buying the drinks. They talked for a while and Arnie asked Brandi more about herself. She knew many of her answers sounded evasive, but Arnie never pressed. As the evening progressed the bar began filling up and several times men came over and asked Brandi if she would like to dance... after making sure it was all right with the big trucker. She politely declined each time, though part of her wanted to accept. Having Arnie nearby helped her keep her desires under control, but he could not help but notice that she appeared conflicted each time. "It ain't none a my business but why do you dress like that Brandi?" Arnie asked eventually. "A pretty girl like you should be wearin' pretty clothes." "I just... it's really complicated Arnie," Brandi told him. "I guess I just feel safer dressed this way." "Ya cain't hide who you are darlin'," Arnie said gently. "Hell ev'ry guy in the place is checkin' you out an wondr'n what you're doin' with me." "What if you don't want to be who you are?" Brandi asked. "It's not even that really. But what if I let myself be... well, like, me... and I don't like that person?" "Whoa now we getting' a bit deep for this Alabama boy," Arnie grinned. "You can be whoever you set yo mind to be, Brandi. Yeah I'll always be a slow talkin' Alabama bred truck driver, but who we are ain't just about who we were born. It's about how we treat the folks around us." "Well you're a really nice guy, Arnie," Brandi told him sincerely. "It's too bad there aren't more out there like you." "Yeah well I wasn't always like that," Arnie said. "I used to be pretty much good fer nothin'. I did purty much jest what I needed to get by an nothin' more. That's why I joined the army. I got paid and fed and such and as long as I did what I was told I got by. I wasn't worried 'bout helpin' anyone else... unless it helped me. I figgered I was a good person and didn't cause no one problems and I didn't need to go outta my way for no one else." "So what changed?" "Someone showed me what it really means to be a good person," Arnie said sadly and then sighed heavily. "Darlin' I don' know what yo runnin' away from. I don' think it's some boyfriend that didn't treat you right but I do think it's got you mighty scared. But if there's one thing I learned in Iraq it's there comes a time when you gotta stand and you gotta fight." "I appreciate what you're saying," Brandi told him. "It's just... it's different with me. I wish I could tell you all about me. My life is just, like, really complicated." Arnie laughed heartily and said, "Life's got a way 'o gettin' like that. You're a good girl Brandi. You got a good heart, I can tell that even tho' we only just met. You'll find your way." They had another round and then walked back to the hotel. Back in her room for the night Brandi thought about the future. Tomorrow she would be in LA and alone. She was beginning to believe that the harder she fought thinking and acting like a girl, the harder her programming worked to make her that way. But the programming was very limited and she was worried that if she continued to fight, she could wind up being nothing more than a shell driven by that programming. But if that was true, it meant the only way to stop it was to stop fighting. She was not sure she had it in her to do that. But maybe Arnie was right; it wasn't that she had to stop fighting... she had to stop running. Maybe it was time to face the girl she was and fight to make that girl someone she could live with. CHAPTER 12 Brandi and Arnie were on the road at five thirty the next morning and by eight they were leaving the warehouse with the load bound for LA. Neither of them paid any mind to the black Ford Explorer trailing them at a distance, though Brandi did see the SUV in the mirror. It was one of thousands of vehicles on the interstate and was too far back for Brandi to detect anything about the occupants. An hour and a half later Arnie pulled into a truck stop off I-5 so they could get some breakfast. "Don't know how you stay so skinny the way you eat girl," Arnie said with a grin as he watched Brandi wolf down a huge breakfast. "Just good genes I guess," Brandi told him. After eating Brandi made a side trip to the ladies room while Arnie went out to get the truck started. Though her body was capable of metabolizing everything she ingested without producing any waste, when she had plenty of food available she still used the bathroom fairly normally. After she was finished she spent several minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her long blonde hair was tied back with a scrunchie, the only way she knew to keep it under some kind of control. While at the lab, just days after her transformation, she had begged and pleaded and finally refused to cooperate with any testing until they had someone come in and cut her hair. She had them cut it short, but Susan had convinced her to keep the style feminine, so she had gone with a pixie cut. Brandi had been quite satisfied with the result, but when she woke up the next morning her hair was once again waist length. Her body had interpreted the cut as damage and repaired it while she slept. Brandi had spent the entire day crying. She was used to the length now, though she did wish she knew more about maintaining and styling it. She knew that if she was to function she as a girl she needed to know such things. With a sigh, Brandi left the restroom and headed out of the restaurant to meet Arnie. As she walked outside, the rig sped past her, heading for the access road that would take it back to the interstate, the black SUV right behind it. Brandi sensed three people in the rig; one appeared to be unconscious and saw two more in the Explorer. Arnie's truck was being hijacked. The safe thing to do would have been to go back inside and notify the highway patrol of the hijacking. Brandi of course started running after the truck. It pulled onto the access road and then the ramp, which would take it back to the southbound lane of I-5. The ramp curved around in a big loop before passing under the access road and then connecting to the interstate. Brandi turned, running up the access road as fast as she could, thankful for the sports bra that held her breasts tightly confined. She was no sprinter; her body was better suited to endurance running, but the truck could only travel at a slow speed and the ramp was long. She reached the overpass several seconds before the truck passed under. As the cab came into view Brandi jumped, landing on the forward part of the trailer, going prone to keep out of sight and reduce the drag from the wind as the truck picked up speed. The view of the two men in the trailing SUV was blocked by the overpass, though several passing motorists saw her make the jump. If they called it in fine; the highway patrol would stop the rig and she would deal with the men inside before they could hurt Arnie. No one made the call. They continued south on the interstate until the truck finally exited and headed west near Bakersfield. The westward journey continued and they eventually turned onto a poorly maintained stretch of blacktop, which soon became a narrow dirt road winding upward into the mountains. Brandi wore no watch but knew it was just after noon; since her transformation she had developed an innate sense of time, almost like she had a built in clock. They stopped at what could only be described as a ghost town. Several ramshackle buildings dotted the dusty street. They appeared to date from the late twenties, though Brandi could not be sure. At the end of the street was a large warehouse, which the truck backed into. Inside there was another rig waiting, along with six men. Arnie's truck was backed up to the waiting rig and the seal and lock was pried off. Once the doors were open a ramp was slid across between the two trailers. The men in the truck got out, dragging the still unconscious Arnie with them. It took the two of them to move the big man and Brandi could see from her vantage point atop the trailer that Arnie had a large bump behind his right ear. The two from the truck were joined by the pair from the Explorer and one of the waiting men stepped over to them. He wore a light jacket and Brandi detected the outline of a weapon beneath his left arm. There was something about him; the way he carried himself, an air of self- assurance about him, that warned Brandi that he was dangerous. "Where's the girl that was with him?" The man demanded. "She never came outta the diner," one of the men said. "She was just a hitcher Chuck, he probably cut her loose." "Max said she was his niece you idiot!" Chuck shouted. "She's probably already called the cops!" Brandi's eyes narrowed at the mention of Max, the manager of the big parts store in LA they had made delivery at. So Arnie's truck had been targeted. Moving to the back of the two trucks Chuck barked, "Get your asses in gear! We gotta get the load transferred and get out of here." "Take him into the office and tie him up," he told the two men holding Arnie. "Then get out here and help. We'll deal with him later." Brandi sized up the odds; ten to one. She had taken on six trained opponents at the lab, but none of them had been armed. She did not know how many bullets it would take to drop her, but even one to the right place could seriously slow her down. She had to even the odds and that meant doing something she really did not want to do. With a sigh of resignation she slipped stealthily from the top of the trailer and into the cab. She retrieved her duffel bag and pulled out the clothes she had bought in LA. In a few minutes she was back in the crop top, spandex pants and high heeled boots. This time there was no fear brought on by her attire. This time she had a mission... and she would go as far as she had to. Once dressed she closed her eyes and concentrated. She had never tried fighting while in an altered form and did not know if she would be able to maintain the necessary concentration. Still it was the only option she had, as the four men that had hijacked the truck knew she had been left behind at the truck stop. When she opened her eyes she gazed at her reflection in the small mirror on the wall of the sleeper. Her hair was now a deep wine red, hanging just past her shoulders. Her face was older, making her look like she was in her late twenties and her eyes were jade green. Instead of youthful innocence she had a sultry, seductive look. She kept her figure the same, not wanting to risk altering her balance. She slipped the duffel over her shoulder and left the cab, gently closing the door so as to not alert the hijackers. Moving stealthily, she reached the entrance to the garage and then intentionally knocked over a stack of empty wooden crates. The noise drew the men from the trailers and Chuck was quickly at her side, grabbing her roughly by the arm. "P... please don't hurt me!" Brandi cried. Her voice was now a smoky alto. "Where the hell did you come from?" Chuck demanded. "I... I was just lookin' for a place to rest outta the sun," she told him, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks. "I'm tryin' to get to LA but I got lost and I can't find the highway. P... please I didn't see anything... I won't tell nobody nothin'!" "Ya know she might be worth keepin' around Chuck," one of the hijackers said as he leered at her. "Shut up Eddie!" Chuck snarled. "Take her into the office and watch her... the rest of you get back to work!" "Please I won't say nothin'," Brandi told Chuck as he passed her off to Eddie. Her tears were gone and she gave him a nervous smile. "We can, ya know, like work somethin' out honey." "Ya know she might be right Chuck," one of the others chuckled. "We'll worry about that later. Get her in the office Eddie and if she gives you any trouble smack her." Eddie dragged Brandi to the office and thrust her inside. Arnie was awake, gagged and tied to a wooden chair. As he saw the two enter he stopped struggling against his bonds. "Settle down pal!" Eddie snarled. "You don't gotta be so mean, Eddie honey," Brandi purred. She turned her eyes towards a doorway leading from the office to another room in which several beds were arranged. "Like I said, I can be lotsa fun to have around. Why dontcha let me show you how much fun." "Yeah right, Chuck would break my neck," Eddie chuckled, but his eyes kept darting from Brandi to the other room. "I'm not gonna tell him if you don't," Brandi said as she moved close and touched his chest. It was too risky to take him down in the outer office as it had a window that placed them in full view of the men moving back and forth between the two trucks. She had to get him into the other room first. For the first time since the transformation she embraced her constant arousal and her nipples began to harden, making them plainly visible beneath the thin lycra top. "I been on the road awhile and its been sooo long since I had any fun," she pouted, allowing her hands to roam over her breasts. "I haven't been with a guy in a really long time and, well, you're makin' me really hot." "Well I don't know..." Eddie said, his face reddening. "Come on lover," Brandi sighed, pouring it on as she gently grasped his hand. "It won't hurt a bit I promise." Arnie watched as Brandi led Eddie by the hand into the other room and began struggling at his bonds again. As they passed, Brandi turned and gave him a smile and a wink. The door to the room closed and seconds later Arnie heard a muffled cry followed by the sound of wood splintering. A moment later Brandi emerged from the room alone. "Okay maybe it hurt for just a second," she giggled. In her hand was a pocketknife which she had found on Eddie. It looked like the type with a thumb stud for opening the blade one handed, but Brandi had seen its kind before. She pressed her thumb down on the side slab and the spring-loaded blade snapped open as a hidden release was triggered. "Arnie listen to me carefully," Brandi said before cutting his bonds. "I know this is gonna be hard to believe but I'm Brandi. I snuck into your truck two nights ago at a rest stop south of Vegas. "There are still nine of them out there and at least one is armed. You have to promise you will let me handle this. If you don't promise I'll leave you tied up and handle it anyway." Arnie shook his head furiously and Brandi tried again. "Arnie I can take care of myself," she assured him. "I know you're a strong man and can handle yourself but I don't want you in the line of fire." Something about her own words struck a chord in Brandi's mind and for some reason she had a brief flashback to that night in the desert northwest of Baghdad. She shook it off and returned to the job at hand. "Arnie do you promise?" Reluctantly Arnie nodded his agreement. Brandi cut him free, figuring if he tried to get macho she could always disable him the same way she had Susan when she escaped from the lab. She closed the knife and clipped it inside the right waistband of her pants, just behind her right hip. "What the hell? Who are you?" Arnie demanded as she removed the gag from him. "Shhhh," she cautioned. "I really am Brandi. They knocked you out and hijacked your truck. Max set you up." Arnie's eyes hardened and he started to rise but Brandi pushed him back down. "Just be cool and when this is over I will tell you everything... everything about me. For now you have to trust me. I need you to put the gag back in and sit in the chair and act like you're still tied up and out cold. If all goes well I'll be back here in a minute with another of these goons." Arnie looked as though he was about to object and then nodded his head. Brandi smiled and then rose to her feet and stepped over to the door. She grasped the neckline of her top near her left shoulder and ripped, leaving her left breast nearly exposed. Then she took a deep breath, screamed at the top of her lungs and ran into the garage. She ran right into Chuck's arms and began sobbing as she fell to her knees. He jerked her up roughly and shook her, demanding to know what was going on. "H... he attacked me!" Brandi cried. "He said he wasn't gonna be second to you... h... he was gonna get his first. I got loose and hit him with a chair." "Fucking moron," Chuck muttered, turning to the others and snarling, "Tommy you come with me, the rest of you get back to work! I'll deal with this." Grabbing Brandi by the arm Chuck stormed towards the office, Tommy trailing behind. Chuck shoved Brandi roughly through the office doorway ahead of him and then followed. He took a quick look at Arnie, apparently still out cold and tied to the chair and then stomped into the other room. Eddie lay on the floor, pieces of a broken wooden chair scattered about his inert form. Had Chuck taken a bit more time to examine the scene he might have noticed that the chair pieces were under Eddie, since it had in fact broken when he fell on it after Brandi hit him. "Shit," Chuck swore, returning to the outer office and turning to Tommy. "When that asshole wakes up send him out. You watch her and keep your fucking hands to yourself!" Brandi had no intention of letting Chuck or his weapon leave the office and was preparing to take him down when the chair Arnie was on decided it had been holding up his two hundred thirty-four pounds too long, no doubt sped to its end by his earlier struggles to free himself. With a groan and a snap one of the legs gave out and the whole chair disintegrated as it and Arnie crashed to the floor. His arms flailed about wildly as he tried to break his fall. "He's loose!" Tommy cried, pulling a small revolver from the pocket of his jacket. Chuck also reached for his holstered weapon. Brandi punched out with her right hand, but Chuck was so close it ended up as more of a powerful shove, causing him to stumble back and into the wall. She then pivoted on her left foot and sent her right into Tommy's sternum. The kick lifted him off the ground and sent him sailing through the office window, the glass was long since gone and into the garage outside. One of the men working on the trucks saw this and called out. This is going to be interesting, Brandi thought. Chuck had his pistol free, an automatic and was regaining his balance and raising it towards Brandi. She was moving to disarm him when she caught movement from either side; Arnie and Tommy both were getting up and Tommy was raising his pistol towards the trucker. Time slowed to a crawl for Brandi as she switched gears. Her right hand reached back, pulling the knife from her waistband. As she swung it forward she pressed the right handle scale and the blade flicked open. The knife was never meant for throwing, but as she pivoted to face Tommy, her mind instantly calculated the weight, balance point and flight characteristics of the blade. Attempting to take out his arm was too risky she calculated; he could still get off a shot. This had to be a killing throw. She released the knife underhand, the blade tumbling through the air to bury itself to the hilt in Tommy's throat. He dropped his gun and sank to the floor. It had taken only two seconds to eliminate the threat from Tommy but that had been enough time for Chuck to draw his weapon. Even as Brandi turned back to face him he fired. The bullet struck her in the upper abdomen, just beneath her left breast. Brandi staggered back and looked down. Blood was pumping from the wound and she felt a sudden difficulty breathing, which told her the bullet had punctured her lung. Raising her eyes towards Chuck she smiled, a savage, feral smile and then advanced again. Wide eyed with disbelief Chuck fired again, snapping off three more shots rapidly. Brandi felt the bullets' impact her upper abdomen and lower chest as she closed the short distance to him, but