Genomorph Part 3 free porn video

Synopsis: A Navy SEAL is transformed by an alien machine into a sexy super soldier. After escaping from a secret lab, she sets out to find out who she has become. Back in LA Brandi finds trouble, friendship and just maybe something more.... Warning: This story contains no graphic sexual content but does have adult language, situations and violent action scenes. Genomorph Part 3 of 5 By Scott Ramsey Edited by Janet Nolan and Carla Winters Dear Mom, Well I made the news...sort of. Fortunately the CHP took credit for busting up the hijacking ring, and there was no mention of a mysterious redheaded woman. I'm sure the cops have the story; they just can't believe it. The smart thing to do is move; 'clear datum' as the submarine boys say. Every bit of training I ever had tells me that. So of course I'm going to stay. LA is a big place, and even if 'they' make a connection between the hijacking ring story and me, 'they' will expect me to move on. I have no intention of living on the run constantly. I was looking at my medals today, wondering why I even brought them with me. After all, should someone see them they would be difficult to explain. I guess it's because they are a connection to my past, and I am still desperately clinging to my past. But there is more to it than that, more than just me trying to hold on to the man I used to be. It all boils down to fear. As Brandon, I really didn't know fear. That is not to say I was never afraid. No one can go into combat without some fear, and if they claim to they are lying. But I never really, truly knew fear. Now, I am afraid all the time. Just walking out the door is a frightening thing. I'm afraid of who and what I have become. I'm afraid of how I will be seen, and how I will deal with people. Fear has motivated so much of my life since I was changed, and so much of who I was is gone. It's only been four months since I was transformed, but each day Brandon Anderson is more and more like someone I knew, and only exists in my memories. But the medals remind me of the person I was. Not the man I was...the person...the person I pray is still there inside me.... CHAPTER 16 Melissa Barlowe really wished she had brought a coat to work. The mid August night was chilly, maybe not to some but definitely to her. The short, pink satin waitress uniform was no help at all. She would be so happy when they finally found a new roommate and she and her friend Karen could quit their bar jobs. Karen, who shared a house with her in Venice, had been the lucky one. Maybe Woofers, the bar Karen worked at, was not the classiest place around but it was close to home and in a much better part of town. Melissa sighed; if money wasn't so tight, and gas so expensive, she would drive. At least she only had a few more blocks to walk to catch the bus. She was almost to the bus stop when she noticed that the three morons who had been hitting on her all night long were following her. Getting hit on by guys was something she had grown accustomed to working at the bar, though most of the regulars had by now learned that she was not attainable. She had never seen these three before tonight, and they had finally gotten rowdy enough that the bouncers had shown them the door. "Stupid!" Melissa muttered as she picked up her pace. Her father had been an LA cop for thirty years and he had lectured her on safety often enough. They must have been waiting for her outside, but she had not been paying attention to her surroundings and now she was blocks away from the bar and help; there was not another soul in sight. She prayed the bus would be on time as she rounded a corner and looked hopefully to the bus stop. The bus was nowhere to be seen, so she continued walking, quickening her pace further. She should have brought sneakers to change into; her feet were already killing her from a long night in the four inch heels she wore for the job. She was very pretty, five feet six inches tall with midnight black hair and emerald green eyes. She had a fiery personality, but right now she was scared. There was no one in sight except her three pursuers, and as she looked over her shoulder she saw that they were now closing the distance, as if they sensed their prey's fear. Relief washed over her as she rounded another corner and saw a group of half a dozen people in the distance. She was almost running now, and she had just opened her mouth to call out when they caught her. She let out a strangled scream before a hand clamped over her mouth and she was dragged towards an alley to her right. She thought she saw a girl in the group turn and look back, and prayed that she had been seen. Melissa fought as the three men dragged her into the nearby alley, kicking one in the shin. The one holding her spun her roughly and backhanded her across the left side of her face. She cried out in pain but recovered quickly, lunging forward and shoving him with all her strength. He stumbled back into his two friends and Melissa turned and ran the only way she could, further down the alley. As she ran she screamed for help. She had not run very far when she was stopped by a ten foot high chain link fence. "Shit!" she cried. She turned, pressing her back against the fence, and faced her pursuers. The three men advanced with looks of menacing glee on their faces. "Keep away you fucking bastards!" she screamed, then turned and tried vainly to climb the fence. Her attackers pulled her down and threw her roughly to the pavement. "You're only gonna make us hurt you worse if you keep fighting, bitch," one of the men said. "You'll have to beat me to death, then!" Melissa snarled back, determined to resist at any cost. She had spirit but was much smaller than her attackers, and she knew she had no chance. Still, she scrambled to her feet and tried run, but was caught and yanked back. Turning on her attacker, she raked her nails down the side of his face leaving four deep scratches. The man cursed and punched her, again on the left side of her face, the force of the blow knocking her down again. Her vision blurred as she hovered on the edge of blacking out, and she knew she had lost. Despite her anger she began crying from the pain and fear, but she was determined that she would never beg. "You know, I, like, really don't think she wants to play," a voice called from the entrance to the alley. All eyes turned to focus on the newcomer, a very buxom blonde girl with the face of an angel. She stood with her body cocked in a provocative posture and smiled sweetly. Melissa was mesmerized. The blonde was without a doubt the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. And her body...even beneath the oversized t-shirt and baggy black pants it was obvious that she had an incredible figure. She moved with an easy, sensual grace as she walked down the alley towards them. Stopping as she neared the scene, the blonde girl examined her fingernails for a moment, and then looked at the three men again. Her eyes were wide and full of innocent mirth and with a playful flip of her long pony tail she purred sexily, "I'm game, if, like, you guys think you can handle me. I warn you though...I like it rough." "Well, well, what do we have here?" the tallest of the three said, walking over to the blonde and reaching out to grab one of her ample breasts roughly. "Another bitch to play with." "Oooh, baby," the blonde purred, "that's kinda nice, but it's not the game I was thinkin' of." The blonde's hands moved so fast they were almost a blur, grabbing the tall man's wrist and elbow. With a quick twist she forced his arm out and away from his body, his shoulder dislocating with an audible pop. He cried out in pain, cursing loudly as the girl swung him around and then slammed him face first into the wall of one of the buildings lining the alley. He bounced off and flopped to the pavement like a rag doll, lying there and moaning in pain. "Well, that wasn't even a decent work out," the girl pouted, turning her attention towards the other two. "You guys are gonna have to step it up 'cause I get, like, cranky when my playmates let me down." The two men rushed forward towards the blonde. She easily side stepped the clumsy attack of one, a short, stocky fellow with a flattened nose that had been punched one too many times. With a quick swipe of her right leg she took his feet out from under him. As he went over backwards she snapped her elbow into his nose, flattening it further. He went down on his ass hard as she turned her attention to the other man. The third would be rapist produced a knife and lunged towards her. In one fluid motion she caught his wrist, twisted the knife free and stabbed it deep into his thigh. He fell to the ground, grasping his leg and howling in pain. The blonde girl moved quickly over to Melissa and helped her up. "Are you ok, honey?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern. Melissa started to respond, but saw the stocky man rushing up from behind the blonde. Her eyes grew wide, and she tried to cry out a warning. The blonde merely grinned and said, "This'll only take a sec." A fraction of a second before the man's hands reached her throat she whirled to face him, snapping her right fist solidly into his nose and flattening it even more. He staggered back, blood streaming from his nose, and then took a swing which she ducked under. He tried again, snapping his left fist forward. This time she caught his wrist as she dodged to his left, twisting his arm behind him as she forced him against the wall of the building to her right. He continued to struggle and she jerked the arm up painfully. "I'm very disappointed; you guys treated me like a girl," the blonde said disdainfully. "And I have this rule about being treated like a girl in a fight." With a deliberate twist she dislocated his shoulder as well, and then grabbed a fist full of hair and smashed his face into the wall for good measure. She then released him to join his friends rolling on the ground in pain. "That oughta keep you from causing trouble for a while," the blonde said. "Maybe next time you'll think twice about attacking someone just 'cause you think they're weak...I seriously doubt it though." Applause erupted from the group of stunned spectators who had gathered at the mouth of the alley. The blonde beamed a big smile and then bowed theatrically before turning her attention to the battered girl again. Her face took on a serious look as she examined Melissa's face. "Do you want to call the cops?" she asked. Melissa shook her head no, dazed over the whole incident. "Well, let's get you out of here before they show up anyway," the blonde suggested. "Personally, I'd rather not answer a bunch of questions tonight from the police. My hotel's not too far from here if you're ok to walk." "I...I can walk," Melissa stuttered. "Cool, we'll get you cleaned up then," the blonde said in a bubbly tone. "My name's Brenda Williams by the way, but you can call me Brandi." Melissa stammered out her name as she found herself staring at Brandi's wide, innocent eyes. She had never seen such a color, a deep violet that was not the product of contact lenses. She could get lost in those eyes. The girl was much too pretty to be dressing so butch, she thought as Brandi helped her down the street. She wondered if she was a hooker, or perhaps danced at one of the clubs nearby. She certainly had the body for it. The hotel was only one step above a fleabag, and as Brandi settled her onto one of the beds Melissa began to suspect that maybe she was a runaway. She noticed that the room was very neat, with no loose personal items lying around. On the other bed she saw a duffel bag and what looked to be a laptop computer bag, all packed as though Brandi was ready to leave at a moment's notice. It was hard to tell how old she was. She had the face of a teenager, sweet and angelic, but definitely the body of a woman. Her pale, golden blonde hair, even though it was pulled back and secured with a black scrunchie, still had a wild, unkempt look. Its loose curls looked like they got very little attention from comb or brush. "We need to get some ice on your face," Brandi said as she rose and walked to the sink. She picked up a plastic ice bucket and stepped over to the door. "Will you be ok if I pop out for just a sec?" Melissa nodded silently. Brandi left the room, returning quickly with a bucket full of ice. She took a clean wash cloth, dampened it and piled ice in it before returning to Melissa's side. "You were amazing!" Melissa gushed, and then winced as Brandi touched the wash cloth to her swollen face. "Where did you learn to fight like that?" "That is a long story," Brandi smiled. Her voice still had the sweet innocent tone but no longer the playful sexiness. "Let's just say I've had a lot of training." "Well, I'm glad," Melissa said, her voice growing quiet. "If you hadn't come along when you did..." Brandi was expecting the tears and when they came, she held Melissa and let her get it out of her system. Even after four months she was still getting used to how easily she herself cried, but she was certainly able to understand Melissa's reaction. The fear of having sex forced upon her was all too real to Brandi, though in her case it was her own internal programming that was doing the forcing. "It's ok, Melissa, you're safe now." Brandi soothed. Holding the pretty brunette was causing feelings to stir in her; she had found that while she was technically bisexual she was far more attracted to women, probably because to the remnant of the man she had been it felt natural. "So, do you work around here," Melissa asked once she had regained her composure, "or are you just passing through town?" Brandi considered the pretty brunette a moment before responding. There was something very familiar about her, but despite her enhanced memory she could not recall ever having seen this young woman before. "Actually, I'm looking for a place to rent," she told Melissa. "I've only been in town a couple of days and I don't know LA at all, though, so I don't really know where to start." Melissa's eyes opened wide and a big smile sprang to her face, making her wince. "I'm looking for a new roommate!" she exclaimed. "I've got a great place over on Venice Beach. My friend Karen and I live there and we've been looking for another roomie for weeks. It has a beautiful ocean view and you'd have your own bathroom and everything!" "Melissa, you don't even know me," Brandi said softly. "Well, I know I'd feel a lot better having you as a friend," Melissa said sincerely. "Oh, come on, at least come and check the place out. I know you'll love it...unless...well it is pretty pricey. I actually own the house but I rent out the two extra bedrooms to pay for the utilities and taxes and such. I'd be more than willing to work with you on it though. I mean I really owe you." "Money is not the problem," Brandi admitted. "I sort of have a trust fund. And you don't owe me a thing." "Well then, that's settled," Melissa stated firmly. "Look, you rescued me; you have to at least see that I get home safely right?" Brandi reached into the right cargo pocket of her BDUs and pulled out a pack of Marlboro 100s and a Zippo lighter. She lit one and took a long drag and then exhaled slowly, noticing as she did that Melissa was looking at the pack longingly. She extended the cigarettes to her and Melissa smiled and took one. Brandi extended her Zippo lighter and flicked the wheel and Melissa lit her cigarette in the flame. "I just quit for the third time," she sighed as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. "After tonight's excitement I guess I can quit again another time." "Melissa, I really appreciate your offer," Brandi said slowly. "There are things about me though...I don't think I would be a good roommate for you and your friend." "Why, because you're running from something?" Melissa asked, causing Brandi to give her a startled look. "Don't worry, I'm not psychic or anything. I just recognize the signs; bags packed and ready to go, trying to look unobtrusive. "I don't really care about that, Brandi. Whatever you are running from, you can't have done anything bad...if you had, you would have never stopped to help me. And I'm pretty good at reading people." "I just don't know," Brandi said. "Look, just stay with us for a while," Melissa suggested. "It's way better than this place, and I guarantee you will fall in love with Venice Beach." "Ok, but it's just a trial for the moment," Brandi said. "If it works out, there are things about me I will have to tell you. And then, if you want me out of your life I'll go with no fuss." "Not gonna happen," Melissa smiled broadly. "I think this is the beginning of a great friendship." ***** The lights were burning late in the office of the Commander, Naval Special Warfare. Lieutenant Matt Branch waited outside the office of Admiral Hammerstein, wondering why he had been ordered to report. He was supposed to be on his way to Virginia, where he would be taking part in the testing of the new Advanced SEAL Delivery System. Branch had tried to strike up a conversation with the Admiral's secretary, a pretty Lieutenant JG named Michelle Trask, but she had only smiled and told him the Admiral would be available shortly. "You can go in now, Lieutenant," the Admiral's secretary told him. Branch smiled and entered the Admiral's office. "Have a seat, Lieutenant," Hammerstein told him. Branch settled into a chair before the Admiral's desk and waited for his superior to tell him why he was here. Hammerstein leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I apologize for interrupting your travel arrangements," Hammerstein began. "When we are done here, arrangements will be made to get you to your destination, should you choose to continue." That got Branch's attention. Something was definitely up. "I know I don't have to tell you about security," Hammerstein continued, passing a file folder marked Classified: Top Secret to Branch. "After you read this, you'll understand more." Branch opened the folder and was immediately surprised by the name which leapt off the page to catch his eye. As he read the report, his face displayed varying reactions, beginning with outright disbelief, then shocked amazement and finally, a cold, burning rage. If it had not come from Admiral Hammerstein; if he were not in this office reading the incredible tale the report detailed, he would have thought it a sick joke. "What do you need me to do, sir?" Branch asked as he finished. His voice was hard and determined. "What I am going to ask you to do is well outside the chain of command," Hammerstein said. "This is a black op, the blackest. It could cost you your career." "Begging the Admiral's pardon, but to hell with my career," Branch said, smacking the report with his hand. "This is outrageous! Brandon Anderson was...is...hell I don't even know how to say it but he's more than just my former CO. He's a friend." "I thought you would feel that way," Hammerstein smiled. "The other members of your platoon will be here in the morning. I suspect they will feel the same way. Once you leave here, you will be on your own. Equipment has been pre-positioned. Be ready to move on very short notice." "We'll be ready, sir," Branch assured him. The Admiral nodded and rose, walking around and extending his hand. Branch rose as well and shook the Admiral's hand, then stepped back and saluted. "Lieutenant Trask has your quarters arranged," Hammerstein said as he returned the salute. "I'll see you at 0600 tomorrow." A short time later Branch was lying on the bed in his quarters for the night. By this time tomorrow the platoon would be in a safe house in Los Angeles. Then they would watch and wait. He could not get the picture out of his head, the face of the beautiful young woman that had once been Brandon Anderson. He tried to imagine what it must be like for her; to have everything you were, your gender, the very basis for a person's identity, ripped away. He realized there was no way he could understand...the concept was simply too alien to even grasp. But he did see that Brandon, in the form of Brandi, had been given an extraordinary second chance. And he knew that he would do what it took, even if it meant his career, or his life, to see that she got that chance. He owed her that, and much more. CHAPTER 17 "This is really nice, Melissa," Brandi said as they entered Melissa's house. The house was a contemporary two story, long and narrow, as was the norm for the area. The back faced a street named Speedway, with a two car garage opening onto the street. The front looked out directly on Ocean Front Walk and the beach. They entered through the back door into a utility room and through that into a short hallway. "That's Karen's room," Melissa said, pointing to a door on the left. "It's a full master suite. I'm afraid you'll have the smallest bedroom, but like I said it has a full bath and a walk in closet and it's fully furnished." The hallway opened into the dining room with the kitchen to the left. Beyond the dining room was a large family room with a fireplace. Melissa led her through the family room and out the front door. There was a large porch that looked out on the ocean, and Brandi took a deep breath, the smell of the ocean and the sound of the surf bringing back a flood of memories. "It's beautiful, Melissa," Brandi said, her eyes closed as she let the sounds and scents wash over her. For a moment she could almost forget...almost. "You really own this place?" "It was my parents'," Melissa said. "They died last year in a car accident." "Oh, Melissa I'm so sorry," Brandi said. "I lost my parents too...a long time ago." "You must have been very young," Melissa said. "Brandi, I don't mean to pry but how old are you?" "Twenty-one," Brandi told her. "I know I look young..." "Brandi, it's cool," Melissa assured her. "Just be prepared to get carded a lot, even with that figure of yours." Leading her upstairs, Melissa showed Brandi the room that would be hers. It may have been the smallest in the house but it was larger than the hotel room she had been staying in. It was definitely a girl's room, with pink walls and a full sized canopy bed. There was a large dresser and a desk as well, and on the wall opposite the foot of the bed was a flat screen television. The walk in closet was very spacious, and the bathroom had a vanity and a large spa tub. "This is very nice," Brandi said, setting her duffel bag and computer satchel on the bed. "Is there internet access?" "Yes," Melissa said. "It's wireless, so you can access it from anywhere in the house if your laptop has a wireless card." "It does," Brandi said. "Well I need to get out of these clothes," Melissa sighed. "After you're settled in, why don't you come downstairs and we can talk if you like." Brandi smiled, "Thank you, Melissa, I'll do that." Melissa left Brandi and walked across the hall to her own bedroom. When she was gone Brandi unpacked, a short task considering how little she had. She placed the box containing Brandon's medals, along with the framed Medal of Honor citation, on a shelf in the closet. Her clothes she placed in the dresser...it did not take much room even though she had picked up a few items since she returned to LA. She set her laptop on the desk. Her meager collection of toiletries went into the bathroom and a few other items into the drawer of the night stand. Last of all she took the nearly nine thousand dollars in cash she had remaining and hid it in the space beneath one of the bottom drawers of the dresser and then placed her empty duffel bag on top of the medals and citation in the closet. Once her belongings were put away, Brandi stripped off her clothes, sighing with relief as she removed her sports bra. It was designed to provide maximum compression and support for running and was not really intended to be worn all the time. She did not really need the support; her body was modified to carry the weight of her breasts but the bra was more of a security blanket, minimizing her bust somewhat. She stood for several minutes, regarding her naked body in the mirror over the vanity. She tried to think what she would have thought had she seen a girl like her when she was Brandon. She wanted to believe he would have looked at her as a person, but she knew that if Brandon had seen her walking down the street it would be the body he noticed first. He was a good man, but he was still a man. Can't really fault him for that, she thought. This body was made to be noticed. Deciding she had finished her introspection, she opened the top dresser drawer and removed her most recent clothing purchase, a knit pajama set. She had decided that the easiest way to go was to start dressing in attire appropriate to her gender in a non public setting. She slipped the lavender camisole top and matching long pants on, grabbed her cigarettes and lighter and headed downstairs. Melissa was still in her room, so Brandi settled into a wicker chair on the porch and lit a cigarette. There was an ashtray on the table by the chair so she figured it would be all right to smoke. Closing her eyes, Brandi let the sound of the surf wash over her again. For the first time in days she felt that she could relax. "Oh...hello." Brandi jumped, literally, up from the chair. That the voice had surprised her was obvious. That she had gotten so relaxed she could be surprised made it even worse. Fortunately she did not attack the young woman standing in the front doorway. "Whoa there, sweetheart, take a breath," the girl laughed. She was Brandi's height, with shoulder length auburn hair, and was dressed in a pair of tight red shorts and a black t-shirt with the word Woofers across the front. She was very nicely built though not as large breasted as Brandi. With a sigh she kicked off her heels as she stepped onto the porch, a wine bottle and two glasses in her hand. "Sorry, I thought you were Melissa," she said as she dropped into the chair opposite the one Brandi had been sitting in. "I'm Brandi," Brandi said as she sat back down. "Melissa is changing." "Nice to meet you, Brandi," the girl said. "I'm Karen, Melissa's roommate." "Is that where you work?" Brandi asked, gesturing to Karen's t-shirt. "Only temporarily, I hope," Melissa laughed. "Hooters was already taken. So are you going to be our new roomie?" "I'm considering it," Brandi said. "Listen, I should tell you Melissa had a pretty rough night." "That's an understatement," Melissa said from the doorway. She was dressed in a long green knit nightshirt and as she stepped out onto the porch Brandi winced; her face had swollen much more. Karen took one look at her and was instantly on her feet. "What the fuck happened to you!" "Calm down," Melissa soothed. "I'll tell you the whole story, but first you need to get another glass for Brandi and I'm gonna bum a smoke from our new roomie." Brandi smiled and passed the pack and lighter to Melissa as Karen went back into the house for another wine glass. She filled the three glasses, and after taking a deep drag of her cigarette and exhaling slowly, Melissa began telling Karen of her night's ordeal. She also managed to lavish enough praise on Brandi to make her blush bright red. "Brandi, I did have a question about the alley," Melissa said after she finished the story. "Please don't take this wrong, because God knows those assholes deserved it, but the last guy..." "Why did I hurt him?" Brandi asked. "Well, yeah, I mean you already had him beat," Melissa said. "No, I had him controlled for the moment," Brandi corrected. "If I had just let him go, he might have just run off, or he may have kept fighting. Then he might have hurt someone else, or tried something that forced me to really hurt him. I had the chance to end the fight there, so I did. I don't, like, get off on fighting or hurting people, but when I have to fight, I fight to win." "Well, you get no argument from me," Karen said angrily. "I wouldn't care if you had killed the bastards." Brandi became quiet, wondering what these two young women would think if they knew she had killed before and in fact as recently as three days ago. She had thought a lot about the man she had killed in the garage. It was the first time she had taken a life outside of war, and yet it was the same as any of the others. There had simply been no choice and she had done what was necessary to save another's life. She knew that it was part of the reason she was who she was now; part of the reason the Genomorph Protocol had been triggered. "So, are you planning on going to school out here, Brandi?" Karen asked after taking a sip of wine. "I don't really have any firm plans," Brandi said. "I have a lot of stuff about my life I have to figure out, kinda the whole 'finding myself' clich?. What about you two?" "We're both in the graduate program at UCLA," Melissa told her. "I'm working on my masters in music and Karen in political science." Brandi smiled reflexively; Brandon had a masters in political science. She wondered if she could even carry on an intelligent conversation on the topic, or if her programming would make her words come out like a bimbo. "Do you know what your thesis is going to be yet, Karen?" Brandi asked, deciding to give it a try. "Yes," Karen said, her eyebrows rising slightly. "It's on the evolving role of the military in the post cold war era, and more specifically in the war on terrorism. It also stresses the importance of understanding the mindset behind groups like Al-Qaeda, in order to effectively counter them." Brandi smiled and said, "If you know yourself, but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat." "Sun Tzu, I'm impressed," Karen smiled. Her smile quickly faded as she realized how that sounded. "Brandi, I didn't mean..." "It's ok, Karen," Brandi laughed. "I get that a lot. I've gotten used to being seen as, like, a bimbo. We all tend to see the surface first, and once you realize that it can actually be kinda useful." The three talked for a while, getting to know one another. Brandi learned that Melissa had been born and raised in Los Angeles. She was an only child and her father had been with the LAPD for thirty years. After he retired he had done some writing, true crime stories, and even acted as technical consultant for some television movies and series. Her mother had sold real estate. They had been comfortable, though far from wealthy. Her parents' unexpected death had left her with a house to maintain and a stack of student loans to pay off. While she listened to Melissa talk about herself, Brandi was again struck by the feeling that she had met the girl before. If so it had to have been as Brandon, which she frankly doubted since he had never been to LA in his life. She searched her memory, unable to shake the feeling, but came up blank. While her vastly improved memory allowed her to recall events from her past as clearly as though they had just happened, it often required the right trigger to access a particular memory if it was buried deeply. "It would probably be a lot smarter to sell the house," Melissa sighed. "But I'm just not ready to do that yet." "I was lucky in a way, I guess," Brandi said and then stopped, her eyes widening for a second. She had been about to say that her education at Annapolis was paid for by the government. "I mean, like, I have my trust fund so I haven't had to worry about money," she finished. "I was just noticing that ring you're wearing," Melissa remarked, gesturing to the chain around Brandi's neck. "Is that your boyfriend's?" "Um, no," Brandi said, holding the ring up so they could see it better. "It's a Naval Academy class ring. It belonged to...a friend. He died a few months ago." "Oh, Brandi, I'm sorry," Melissa said. "Was he killed in the war?" "Not directly," Brandi said, her voice growing very quiet. "It was...complications...he was badly wounded." Melissa smiled in understanding and let the subject drop. It was obvious that it was making Brandi very uncomfortable. Karen Meadows came to LA from Littleton, Colorado six years earlier. She and Melissa had met in their second year at UCLA and had been friends ever since. The two had similar personalities, both determined and spirited; but Melissa tended to be more outgoing and Karen more reserved. Of course they wanted to know about Brandi as well, and she did her best to be truthful without being too truthful. Finally she had to put a stop to any further questions. "Look, I'm sure you both know I'm holding stuff back," she said. "I mean it's, like, obvious I'm dodging your questions and it's because the only other choice is to lie, and I don't wanna do that. Please be patient with me. I promise if I decide to take you up on the offer to stay, I will tell you everything about me, and then it will be up to you guys if I stay or not." Melissa and Karen shared a look before either spoke. "I understand Brandi," Melissa said. "I hope you'll feel comfortable enough to open up to us soon. We'd really like to help if we can." "Just tell us you're not on the FBI's ten most wanted list," Karen added, her smile showing she meant it as a joke. Brandi giggled, "I can say for sure that I am not," she said. It was true; the people that were after her were powerful, but they did not want to attract any more attention to their activities than necessary. "Well, I have the weekend off so tomorrow how about I show you around a bit, Brandi?" Melissa suggested. "I don't want to be a bother," Brandi said. "I'm sure you must have a boyfriend you'd like to spend time with on your weekend off." Karen laughed heartily, and even Melissa giggled. Brandi looked at them, wondering what she had missed. "Brandi, I probably should have mentioned this sooner. I'm a lesbian." Melissa told her. "I hope that doesn't bother you." Brandi did not answer immediately; she was too surprised by her reaction to Melissa's words. She had been attracted to the pretty brunette from the start, but now her heart was racing and she felt her skin becoming flush and warm. To make matters worse, she could feel her nipples hardening, and knew they were plainly visible through the thin knit cami. "No...that doesn't bother me at all, really," she managed to say. Melissa and Karen both noticed her reaction; it would have been hard not too. "Brandi, do you mind if I ask..." Melissa began. "I don't know," Brandi answered, and her voice trembled slightly. "I'm...it's complicated. Let's just say that for now sex is something I am trying very hard to stay away from." Brandi rose from her seat with a nervous smile before they could ask any more questions and said, "I'm really kinda tired. I think I'll, like, take a bath and then turn in." Melissa and Karen said goodnight and Brandi practically ran upstairs to her bedroom. She started the water for her bath and slipped off her pajamas, and was just about to climb into the tub when she stopped. She made her way back into the bedroom and opened the drawer on the nightstand. Slowly, she reached in and pulled out a waterproof vibrator. She looked at it for several seconds like it was a snake and could bite her at any moment. She had purchased it two days earlier and had yet to work up the nerve to use it. When Melissa had told her she preferred girls, the revelation had sent Brandi into overdrive, and the idea of using the vibrator no longer seemed that foreign. Returning to the bathroom, she slipped into the steaming water and set about relieving tension on multiple levels. "That's one very unusual girl," Karen said after Brandi had left. "I like her." "Yeah, me too," Melissa sighed. Karen laughed, "That's obvious. She certainly had a strange reaction there. I mean she was obviously turned on but she looked terrified. Do you think she's in denial about her sexuality?" "No, I think there's more to it than that," Melissa said. "I don't think it bothered her that she was attracted to another girl...I think it bothered her that she was turned on, period. It's like she's afraid of the very idea sex." "Maybe that explains her fighting," Karen theorized. "Maybe she was raped and took self defense classes." "You didn't see her in that alley, Karen," Melissa said. "Those moves were like something from a martial arts movie. I think if she had wanted to, she could have killed those guys without breaking a sweat." Melissa drained her glass of wine and then rose from her chair. She said good night to Karen and then went back into the house. As soon as she entered she could hear Brandi, and as she made her way up the stairs the sounds of her moans and cries of pleasure grew increasingly louder. "Well, maybe she's not that afraid of sex," Melissa giggled as she entered her bedroom. She had a strong feeling it was going to be very interesting getting to know Brandi. After her bath, Brandi stared at herself in the mirror for a long time. She heard Melissa and then Karen drift off to sleep, and decided she would take a walk. She had a lot to think about. The rest of the quote from Sun Tzu came to mind, 'If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle'. She wondered if she would ever know either. Worse, she wondered if they were one and the same. CHAPTER 18 "Good morning, Susan, did you sleep well?" Amanda Breton asked as Susan Covington joined her in the dining room for breakfast. She was beginning her fourth day at the estate and was beginning to think she could get used to the lifestyle very easily. "Very well, and good morning to you, too, Amanda," Susan said smiling. "I got an email from Brandi last night. She received the initial funds and is very excited about the trust. She is also extremely curious as to whom her mysterious benefactor is, but I respected your wish to remain anonymous for the time being." "It's not modesty or anything like that," Amanda told her. "I just don't want to add to the stress that is already on her." "I think it would make her more comfortable knowing where the money is coming from," Susan told her gently. "I suppose you're right," Amanda replied after considering it for a moment. "You may tell her the next time you email her. How is she doing if you don't mind my asking?" Susan sighed and said, "I am a bit concerned about her." She went on to tell Amanda what Brandi had related to her in her last email; the full details of her 'night out' in LA and the hijacking of Arnie's truck. "The hijacking doesn't concern me so much," Susan admitted. "Of course every time she does something like that she risks exposure, but Brandi is going to take action in a situation like that; it's just her nature to do so. But going out and looking for a fight, well, I feared that she might do something like that." "Why is that?" Amanda asked. "Brandi is still fighting a battle inside," Susan said. "She's fighting both the artificially programmed sexual desire and the naturally programmed feminine mentality. The fight was an attempt to redirect those feelings and it very nearly backfired on her. I'm afraid that the more she resists the more the programming will assert itself, and eventually it will overwhelm her." "And if that happens?" "She could very well become exactly what she is afraid she will become; a virtual slave to that programming." "I can only imagine what turmoil it is causing within her," Amanda said sadly. "It doesn't have to be that way though," Susan told her. "Everything I have read concerning Genomorphs in the Forerunner files indicates that while they were certainly very sensual women, they were not slaves to their sensuality. But they had accepted the gender change willingly, not had it forced on them. Brandi must accept that she is now a woman and learn to embrace that. If she can do that, the programming will not fight to 'convert' her." "I thought she had accepted that she is female?" "No, Brandi accepted, pretty much from the start, that her body is female," Susan corrected. "She still has to make the leap to accepting that she is female." "Do you think she will?" Amanda asked as Gretchen brought in breakfast for the two women. Susan had been told that she could speak freely in front of the staff. "I think she is beginning to," Susan said. "Immediately after the transformation Brandi was very much a forty year old man in a young woman's body. But she may have made the first step that night in LA. She actually dressed like a girl. Yes, she did it to lure her 'playmates' out, but it was a step in the right direction. She even wore makeup, though she said she ended up looking like a prostitute, which probably fit the image she was going for anyway. "She is beginning to develop a curiosity about the young woman she has become. She's starting to explore exactly what that means, which of course leads to conflict with her memories as a man. Still, it's the result I was desperately hoping for; the one thing that could not happen as long as she was confined to the lab. She was safe there, without a need to explore her new femininity. Now she must if she hopes to fit in to the world around her." "It sounds like she really has more than the male/female duality to deal with," Amanda remarked. "It's very much like having multiple personalities from the sound of it." "That's a pretty accurate description," Susan agreed. "I believe she has to deal with issues the Forerunners never intended. When they created a Genomorph, it was from a willing person." Susan grew very quiet as she toyed with her omelet. "It wasn't your fault, Susan," Amanda said gently. "I disagree," Susan said bitterly. "I let my ambition blind me. There should have been more testing and research, years more, before we attempted to use the machine on a person." "If you let anything blind you it was your compassion and desire to help someone who had come to mean very much to you," Amanda countered. "Your heart was pure. And if you made a mistake, then learn from it and move on. Blaming yourself will not help Brandi." CHAPTER 19 Dear Mom, Do you believe in love at first sight? I met someone last night, a girl named Melissa. Three goons were attacking her in an alley and of course you know me. Don't worry I didn't hurt them too much. I feel something when I look at Melissa...it's more than just sexual attraction, much more. I felt it from the moment I first saw her. She's not very big, about five six, but she was not going to go down without a fight. Then when we got back to her house and she told me she's a lesbian...well I had to take a long hot bath and I finally broke in the vibrator I bought. It was definitely interesting. The feeling of having it inside me was incredible. The only problem is now I find myself thinking more of what it will be like with the real thing. Could it be that even though I am programmed to be bisexual, that I still retain a preference for women? Even in the few days I have been out in the world I have had to fend off plenty of advances from men, and it is by no means easy. But I know that if Melissa were to make a pass at me I wouldn't be able to resist, and that adds another level of concern. How can I ever know for sure if it's me or just my programming that is causing these feelings? The oddest thing about her is she seems very familiar to me. I have searched my memory though and I am sure I never met her before. Of course it would have had to be as Brandon, and it has been years since I was in California. But I can't shake the feeling that there is something familiar about her. Her roommate Karen is really nice too. She's a bit more reserved than Melissa though in no way any less spirited. I don't know what I'm going to do. They are looking for a roommate and I am looking for a place to live. I've spent the whole night walking up and down the beach, trying to come to a decision. As I sit here looking out on the ocean as the first rays of the sun hit it from the east, I think I could really fall in love with this place. Actually I already have... Bye for now Brandi The sun was well up in the sky when Brandi returned to the house. Melissa was seated at the dining room table, drinking a cup of coffee and browsing through the morning paper as Brandi entered. She looked up and smiled when she heard the door open. "Have you been out all night?" Melissa asked as Brandi walked in. "I looked in on you when I got up and it didn't look like you had slept in your bed." "I don't really sleep that much and I had a lot of thinking to do," Brandi said. "How's your face?" "It hurts like hell," Melissa replied. Brandi stepped over to her, lifting Melissa's face and gently touching her left cheek. "Karen's getting dressed right now so she can take me to the ER." "You might have a fractured cheek bone," Brandi said, a look of concern on her face. Melissa's left eye was now swollen shut and she was obviously in a great deal of discomfort. "It's good that you're having it looked at..." Brandi cut her words short as she felt a tingling sensation in her fingers; the same sensation she felt when her body was healing. She started to pull her hand away but then saw that the swelling was decreasing. As she watched, Melissa's eye slowly opened and the discoloration decreased significantly. Melissa felt the same pleasant tingling sensation, and in seconds the pain in her face was gone. The pressure seemed to ease and she realized she could now see through her left eye. "Wow, it doesn't hurt anymore!" Melissa exclaimed, her hand flying to her cheek. It was still a bit tender but the swelling had obviously gone down considerably. Her own eyes widened and she bolted out of her chair, rushing to the bathroom in the back hall. She was gone for several minutes, and when she returned, Brandi was sitting at the table with a sullen expression on her face. So much for worrying about when I tell them, she thought bitterly. How the hell did I do that? Melissa said nothing as she returned to her seat, just stared at Brandi expectantly. "What's going on?" Karen asked. She had emerged from her bedroom just as Melissa came out of the bathroom. In answer, Melissa turned her face so Karen could see the left side. There was still some swelling and redness, but the injury was significantly healed. "Brandi touched it and ...," Melissa said, not sure how to describe what had happened. She and Karen both turned to look at their new friend. "I didn't know I could do that," Brandi said quietly. "You better both have a seat, this is gonna take some explaining." Over the next thirty minutes Brandi told them her story. She gave them the whole truth; the mission in Iraq that had left Brandon scarred and crippled; the offer from Susan, everything about who she had been and how she had become the person she was now. By the time she finished she was struggling to keep her tears in. Melissa was silent for a moment, and Brandi buried her face in her hands. She was hoping she had not just made a terrible mistake, afraid that they would ask her to leave. Then she felt a gentle touch, and Melissa pulled her hands away and then stroked her face. "Oh Brandi...I knew there was something about you but I had no idea..." Brandi pressed her face into Melissa's hand, craving the contact, and then Melissa rose, knelt before her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Karen joined them and they held her as she cried herself out. Finally, they separated and when Brandi looked into Melissa's face she saw a strange expression there. Karen looked stunned, but then who could blame her. "There's one more thing you need to know," Brandi said. "The day before I came to LA...I killed a man." She told them about the hijacking of Arnie's truck and then paused a moment before saying, "I understand if you want me to leave." "No, no, not at all," Melissa assured her. "I was just thinking that my whole world view has just been radically altered. Yesterday, I had this neat little picture of the world and now it's totally changed. It's like that movie 'Men in Black', when Tommy Lee Jones tells Will Smith, 'imagine what you'll know tomorrow'." At the mention of that particular movie Brandi stiffened noticeably, and Melissa's mouth formed an O. "I guess that movie isn't as funny to you anymore, since you have the real thing after you," Karen remarked. "Yes, I do, and that's why you both have to be very certain about this," Brandi said with a deadly seriousness to her voice. "These people aren't going to pull out a 'flashy thing' and erase your memory if they come. At best they would lock you away somewhere and at worst they...they..." "They'll kill us," Melissa said, and then she reached out and caressed Brandi's cheek once more. There was a look of fiery determination in her eyes. "Then let's just make sure they don't find you, because I swear they'll have to drag you away over my dead body." Brandi looked from Melissa to Karen, who nodded her head and put her hand on Brandi's shoulder. "Dammit, now I'm gonna cry again!" Brandi said. CHAPTER 20 Susan logged into the secure email account Ryan had set up for her to see if there was a message from Brandi and instead found one from Ryan himself. You need to see this! Ryan "Damn you, Ryan, if they catch you doing this..." Susan muttered under her breath as she opened the attached file. She had tried to get Ryan to leave the project when she did, but he had insisted that he could be of more use on the inside. The file was additional information that had been deciphered, pertaining to the Genomorph Protocol. More specifically it described in some detail exactly how the machine transformed the subject. They already knew that the Forerunner machine used the glowing purple plasma to affect its repairs. The plasma's energy was able to alter the subject in a variety of ways when applied over a period of time. Simple repairs, even something as major as restoring a severed limb, took relatively little of the energy. By applying slightly more of the energy, the machine could affect genetic repairs. Genetic errors, whether due to birth defects, age or some kind of damage, could be completely erased. The machine, which the report said was called a Genetic Manipulation Unit, was capable of removing years of aging, as evidence by Brandi. To cause more radical change, such as altering the subject's gender, the machine applied a large dose of the energy. Because the dose was so large, the subject's cell structure remained saturated with the energy for a period of many years, making a basic change of gender long term. To attempt another gender modification too soon would destabilize the subject's genetic structure, with horrific, and likely fatal, results. Then, there was the Genomorph Protocol, which saturated the body with massive amounts of energy. The level was well beyond the point at which the subject's genetic structure was destabilized, and that destabilization was part of the process. But it continued beyond altering the genetic structure, actually altering the Genomorph at the sub-atomic level. The very molecular structure was changed, making muscle, bone and sinew stronger. This massive dose of transforming energy was also what gave the Genomorph her hyper attuned senses and altered the structure of her brain, giving it the ability to process vast amounts of data at incredible speeds. Once these alterations were completed, tiny cybernetic organisms were introduced into the subject. These were actual living machines, part organic and part mechanical, capable of reproducing and repairing themselves indefinitely. These nanocyborgs were charged with the same plasma the device used to affect genetic change, and each one carried the complete genetic pattern of the Genomorph within them. They acted to augment the Genomorph's innate regenerative abilities, and as long as some of them remained functioning, any damage suffered would be repaired. The only way to destroy a Genomorph for certain was to inflict so much damage that the body and its nanocyborgs were utterly destroyed. That they had found records that spoke of the heavy rate of attrition among Genomorphs made it clear that the Forerunner's enemies had possessed weapons capable of inflicting that kind of damage. It was even possible for the Genomorph to introduce these nanocyborgs into another person to repair damage suffered. In small numbers the machines were unable to sustain themselves for long outside the Genomorph's body and could not reproduce. If the injury was serious, the Genomorph could only stabilize the patient, as her built in self preservation programming prevented her from introducing too many nanocyborgs and thereby reducing her own ability to self-repair. There was one instance in which the Genomorph could transfer a vast number of nanocyborgs. The data spoke of something that was translated as the 'Bonding'. It was entered into by a Genomorph and a person they loved deeply, and was in a very real sense a wedding. The Genomorph in this case could introduce a massive number of nanocyborgs into the other person; nearly half of those currently in her body. This meant that until the missing machines were replaced, the Genomorph was dependent almost entirely on her innate regenerative powers, which while far greater than normal human healing was considerably slower than with a full compliment of nanocyborgs. After this sharing, the nanocyborgs in the 'bonded' person were at the critical mass necessary to reproduce outside the Genomorph's body, and they would begin making alterations in the person based on their programming. The data was incomplete and lacked any real details on this process, but the sketchy information indicated the result would be that the bonded individual would share the Genomorph's accelerated ability to heal and with it their immunity to disease and aging. In effect, it allowed the Genomorph to fall in love, and never have to face watching the one they loved grow old and die. Brandi would need to know about this, even though it appeared this ability could not be used accidentally. Still, she was going to be meeting people and making friends, maybe very close friends, and she needed to be informed of every aspect of her new body. CHAPTER 21 "What are you smiling about?" Brandi asked as Melissa joined her on the deck. She had given her new friends some time to absorb everything. "I was just doing a little research online. Can I bum a smoke? Oh, and Karen ran out for some groceries." Brandi extended her pack of Marlboros and Melissa took one, lighting it in the flame of Brandi's Zippo lighter. "I always fall back on smoking when I get stressed," Melissa said as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I'm sorry; I really don't mean to add stress to your life." "Oh, it's not you sweetie," Melissa said, and then amended her statement when Brandi gave her a dubious look. "Ok, it's not just because of you. I was nearly gang raped last night remember. I hate feeling so helpless." "I know what you mean," Brandi told her. "You, helpless?" Melissa said, incredulous. "I saw you in action girl. You are anything but helpless." "That's not when I feel it," Brandi said. "I'm fine in a crisis or a fight; it's the everyday stuff that makes me feel that way. Melissa, I don't know how to be a girl. I know I need to start dressing more feminine, if for no other reason than it will make me blend in better. But I don't know how. I know nothing about makeup or what to do with this hair." "I can't even begin to imagine what you are going through," Melissa said. "Having your gender changed would be bad enough, but all the other stuff you have to deal with is just overkill. Karen and I really want to help you if you'll let us." "I need your help," Brandi told her, "I'm through running from who I am. I can never go back, so I either have to move ahead or stand still." "Well, Karen and I were discussing that earlier," Melissa said with a big smile. "When she gets back we'll tell you what we have in mind." "Melissa, you have no idea how much this means to me," Brandi said, her voice trembling. She fought to control her emotions and Melissa reached out and took her hand. "Brandi, you don't have to be afraid to cry," she said. "We girls do that." Brandi nodded as she wiped her eyes, "That's one of the things I've found easiest to adjust to. Just being able to let it out...but there's still a part of me that wants to keep it all inside." "Hey, are you hungry?" Melissa asked, "We can whip up some scrambled eggs and sausage." "That would be great," Brandi said. "Why don't you let me fix breakfast? I'm a pretty good cook but I warn you; since I was changed I eat a lot." "Well, it's a good thing Karen is getting groceries," Melissa laughed. "If you want to cook, have at it. I confess I am pretty inept when it comes to the kitchen." Karen returned just as Brandi finished preparing their breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage. Melissa and Karen put the groceries away as Brandi set the food out on the table, and then the three sat down to eat. "Brandi, these eggs are fantastic!" Melissa exclaimed. "What did you do?" "I just added a few spices. A little dill and marjoram and thyme," Brandi said. "We have spices?" Karen said. "They're kinda old," Brandi admitted. "They were Mom's I'm sure," Melissa said. She toyed with her food for a moment and then looked at Brandi. "Does it ever get easier?" she asked. "Yes," Brandi said. "The hurt never goes away completely, but it does get easier." "It must have been hard for you, being so far away," Melissa said. Brandi gave her a startled look and Melissa smiled, "I told you I had been doing some research on the internet. I looked up Brandon Anderson." "I'm on the internet?" Brandi said. "Of course you are," Karen laughed. "There are dozens of sites devoted to the Medal of Honor." "I hope you don't mind," Melissa said. "I just wanted to know a little about your past and I was afraid you might be uncomfortable talking about it." "I don't mind at all," Brandi said. "I don't really mind talking about it either. It was hard when my parents died. I felt a lot of guilt, like maybe if I had been there I could have prevented it." "You know that's not true," Melissa said. "I do now," Brandi said. "They were just sitting there watching TV when those punks kicked in the front door and shot them. There was no reason; it was totally senseless. If I had been there I would have been killed too most likely. But grief isn't a rational process, it's an emotional one. "Maybe it was fate...that was what made me decide to become a SEAL. I wanted to be out there facing the bad guys, not standing on the deck of a ship." "You didn't tell us you were such a cutie," Karen giggled, deciding the subject needed to be lightened up. Then she sighed sadly, "Such a waste." Brandi looked confused once more and said, "You mean you're not..." "Oh no!" Karen laughed. "I did a bit of experimenting when I started college but I just like men way too much." "Way too much," Melissa echoed, grinning. "Be careful, Brandi, she could rub off on you." Brandi had a good laugh at that saying, "More likely I would rub off on her." They ate in silence for a bit but Melissa kept looking at Brandi. It was obvious she had more questions and just as obvious she did not know how to ask them. "You can't offend me, Melissa," Brandi told her. "It may not be a comfortable subject but pretending it isn't part of me won't make it go away." "Well, I was just wondering what it's like," Melissa said. "I mean what do you feel?" "I don't know if I can describe it properly, but I'll try," Brandi said. "I'm basically aroused all the time. That is not as bad as it sounds, because I can control it. But when someone shows interest in me...when a guy comes on to me, then the programming seems to kick it up." "That must be pretty horrible," Karen said. "So any guy that hits on you sends you into overdrive?" Brandi thought for a moment before answering, "Not exactly. I do have my standards, thankfully. If I don't find the person attractive it's not bad. And if they come on like a total jerk it's a big turn off." "Is it the same feeling for men and women?" Melissa asked. "There is a difference," Brandi said, hesitantly. "With men it's like a need, a very powerful need...and it scares me. It's like being very thirsty, I mean stuck in the desert thirsty, and all you have to drink is some nasty, smelly water. You know you have to drink it, but you really don't want to." "Now there's a pleasant analogy," Karen quipped. "Sorry," Brandi grinned. "My experiences in survival training brought that out. With women it is definitely different. There is the same need but there is also a very strong desire. I guess there is enough of Brandon left in me to make me want to be with a woman, and that added to the programming makes the feelings more intense with women. This is the first time I've been around a girl I knew was...attainable though." "Do I make you uncomfortable?" Melissa asked. When Brandi hesitated answering, she smiled softly and said, "You can be honest, sweetie." "I wouldn't, like, call it uncomfortable," Brandi said, feeling a bit flushed. "Maybe too comfortable is better. Like, so comfortable it becomes uncomfortable. I don't know...it's very confusing. And I like you too, and that makes it...well...more intense." "I like you too Brandi, but you don't have to worry about me coming on to you," Melissa said. "I can't even imagine what you must go through. Men and women are such emotionally different creatures, and to have a woman's emotions just dumped on you...I think it would drive most men mad." Even as she spoke Brandi could feel it building. She could clearly sense the reactions of both her friends. With Karen there was curiosity and sympathy, but no trace of arousal. From Melissa, however, she could sense an elevated heartbeat and a slight rise in her body temperature. She could smell the scent of her arousal, the chemical signals her body sent out that were lost to a normal person. The reaction only served to heighten her own feelings. "Do I need to get a bucket of cold water?" Karen asked, and they all laughed. "Ok now I have a question, and then we'll stop grilling you," Karen said. "I was wondering about what you felt when you got behind that machinegun. I mean did you think about the possibility you could get hurt or die? What gives someone the strength to do that?" "It was love," Brandi told her without hesitation. "Yes, I knew there was a good chance I was going to die; in fact I expected to die. It was really a miracle that I survived. But it was really all about love. In combat you develop a strong bond, especially in an elite group like the SEALs. We call it camaraderie or the warrior bond or any of a dozen other things, but I can look at it from a new perspective now, from the emotional view point of a woman. "There's another quote from Sun Tzu, 'Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look upon them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death'. I loved those men; they were my brothers, they were my children, and they would have stood by me to the end. But I had to get them ou