Angel S:1 E:14 "Dwayne's World" free porn video

Angel S:1 E:14 "Dwayne's World" By G.M. Shephard Copyright © 2012 Edited by: jeffusually kittylover Liz sat on the couch with her wedding band in her hand. She sat staring at it while Ashley slept with her head on Liz's lap. It was a simple gold ring with a small hard to read inscription etched into the inside. She didn't need to read the words; they were etched in her heart. "Forever locked onto your heart." Ashley coughed and started to wake up. Liz put her hand on her forehead. She was still warm, but getting cooler. "Honey, how are you feeling?" Several days ago Ashley started getting the sniffles, then it progressed to a sore throat. Quickly she started to get really cold and her temperature elevated to a a hundred and two degrees. "Better, but I still have a headache. Can I have some more Tylenol?" "Sweetie, you just took some a couple of hours ago. Wait a little. I know it's miserable. Get some more rest." "I can't sleep anymore," she said, sitting up. She looked and saw her mother holding her ring. "Missing Daddy again?" "Oh honey, I miss him every minute of every day." "So do I. I wish I could see him again." Liz pulled her daughter close and hugged her. "I know baby, he's watching over us right now keeping us safe." "Mom, how did you and Daddy meet?" Liz stopped to think a moment. She knew very well how they met, but she wasn't sure if she ever told Ashley about it. "Sweetie, I never told you this story?" "Maybe you did, but tell me again." "Well, let me see. Your father and I met in 1971, that was almost 18 years ago. He was just starting to fly fighter planes for the Air Force and was stationed near where Mommy grew up in Florida. I had just finished college and it was graduation day. Grandma was still alive and so happy to see me graduate. Oh, I wish you could have met her, you would have liked her very much. So, it's a hot muggy day in May, we are wearing these stupid graduation gowns that made us all get really sweaty underneath. My friend's brother who was in the Air Force came to the graduation to see his sister graduate. He liked me and invited me out on a date. I didn't want to at first, but my friend said she didn't mind. We went on a double date and both guys started to get very drunk. Her brother started to treat me really bad and wouldn't leave me alone. We were at a restaurant sitting in a booth and they wouldn't let me out. Then comes your dad. He was supposed to meet a different girl that night, but she never showed up, and he was just sitting in the restaurant by himself. He heard me arguing and saw that those that were bothering me were enlisted men in the Air Force. Since all pilots are officers, Daddy outranked these two jerks and came over to the table. At first they ignored him, but when he ordered them to leave us alone, they tried to fight him. "Did they hurt him?" "No, I can't tell you just what he did, but in a very short time, he had them on the ground screaming like little girls." "What did Daddy do to them?" "Your Dad knows some kind of karate or judo, or something like that. He twisted their arms so they couldn't move. Whatever it was, it looked like it hurt a lot. In the end, he let them go as long as they left us alone. My friend went running after her brother to make sure he was okay and left me alone. Your Dad and I stayed out all night talking before he drove me home and escorted me back to my house. After that, we kept seeing each other as often as we could. On September 18, 1974, we got married just before he was stationed in California. Three years later I met the one person I love more than your Daddy." "Who was that?" "You silly." She kissed Ashley on her head and pulled her close as Ashley put her arms around her mother's waist. "I love you too Mom." "Do you feel well enough to get up?" "Why?" "Because, I want to show you something," Liz stood up and reached her arms out, letting Ashley grab ahold of her neck. Liz straightened out a bit, pulling Ashley back up to a sitting position before stopping. "Ouch, that's enough. Sorry honey, you are getting too big, Mommy can't carry you anymore." Ashley got up on her own, taking her blanket with her and following her mom into the bedroom. She sat on the bed, while Liz knelt down and pulled something from under the bed. Ashley watched while trying to keep warm as her mother withdrew a medium sized case, like a briefcase. "Move over sweetie, I want to show you something," Ashley moved to the corner of the bed and put her head against the wall as Liz sat on the other end, placing the case between them. "What it that?" Liz dialed the combination lock and opened the box. "This, sweetie is what I call my memory box. Every little memory I have with your Daddy...and you, I keep in here." Ashley immediately got interested and leaned closer, careful to turn her head away from her mom when she coughed. Liz started unpacking the box and setting the contents on the bed. "Why do you have a bottle of wine in there?" "This is from our wedding. See our names on the label and our wedding date? It's probably not the best wine, but I am not keeping it to drink. Here, wanna see your dad in a skirt?" Ashley started giggling at the thought. "That's Daddy? He has long hair, and he has a blue skirt on." "Well not really, he was 17 in this picture, he had just got his black belt. Those are really very baggy pants." "He looks like a girl," Liz stated laughing. "Didn't he? I used to tease him about it, and he would get upset. Here's a picture of all three of us on the beach. Do you remember this trip? I think you were about 2 years old when we went to the beach in California." She shook her head, admitting that she didn't remember. "Wow, pretty hot," Ashley said, taking a picture out of the box. "Wow Mom, you look really good. I remember you and Dad going out this night." Liz looked at the picture of her and Michael. He was in uniform, and she was in his favorite dress in her wardrobe. "Oh, that one. I don't like that dress much, but it was your Dad's special night, and I wore it for him. We girls do that kind of stuff for the guys we love. One day you will know what I am talking about. This was a good night, almost five years ago. It was one of the last nights your Dad and I had where we got really dressed up and went out. It was a great year, no asteroid, everyone at NASA worried about nothing but launching more shuttles. Dad had already flown a couple of missions and they had a special Christmas party to celebrate. It was also the night I met Dwayne and Dr. Megan." "Tell me about it." ---December 5, 1983--- Liz picked up the skewer out of the martini glass and popped the olive into her mouth and began chewing it, finally washing it down with her first sip of her martini. The condensation was soaking through her purple satin opera gloves. She wasn't entirely thrilled with the event, but she loved getting dressed up for classy dinners and parties, and this was quite a party. All the astronauts, support crew and significant others were in attendance at the annual holiday party. "How does that taste ma'am?" the bartender asked. "Great, it's perfect," Liz replied, slipping a couple of dollars into the tip jar. "Thank you," he said as the bills fell to the bottom of the jar, "glad you like it. Let me know if you need anything else." He turned his attention to someone approaching the bar. "What can I get you chief?" "Let me get a Bud, and a shot of tequila," a man about Michael's height said as he turned and locked eyes with Liz. He was wearing his formal dress uniform that resembled a tux, but had gold stripes on the sleeves and a gold cummerbund, the same as Michael's but with less decoration on his left breast. He was a little older, probably in his very early forties. "Well hello there. Wow, you are incredibly beautiful and elegant," he said with his jaw dropped open. "Sorry I don't mean to be rude, but you are quite stunning." "Why thank you," she said as she took another sip of her drink, "don't worry about it, I appreciate it. Are you a pilot?" "Yes, how can you tell?" "Well my husband has a very similar uniform," she said, trying to subtly tell him he didn't have a chance. The bartender handed him his drinks, and he took the shot right away. "He is huh, and just who is your husband?" He saw her eyes move to the left and lock onto someone just as he heard a voice. "Sorry Dwayne, Liz is mine." Michael stepped in and kissed his wife on the cheek. "Hey babe, sorry I got a little tied up talking to people." She handed him his cocktail and he took a sip. "Liz, this is Dwayne Turner, Dwayne, my wife Liz." They shook hands as he looked at Michael. "Naah, really? How did a loser like you score such an attractive woman?" "Easy, I didn't score her, we were made for each other, it only took twenty something years for us to find each other. Liz and I have been together almost 14 years now." "Well, isn't that cute and sappy. I think you need to be wearing that gown if you are going to talk like that, hell it might even look good on you." "Wouldn't that be something?" Michael said, ignoring his insult as Frankie Valli's "You're to Good to Be True" came on over the sound system. "Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to dance with my wife," Michael said, taking her gloved hand in a gentle grip and kissing it. "May I have this dance?" "You can have them all, my love." Dwayne watched as the happy couple made their way to the dance floor. The entire time, he stared at Liz's ass swaying back and forth as Michael escorted her to the center. He watched in disdain as the couple stared into each other's souls and sang the lyrics to the song while holding each other tight. "Lucky bastard," Dwayne said just before chugging the rest of his drink. "Hey bartender, give me a couple more shots and another brew?" As Michael and Liz's dance came to a conclusion, Michael felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Bill Young, Chief Astronaut, standing behind him next to a young woman in her early thirties. "Hi Bill." "Michael, you having a good time I see? Is this the Mrs.?" "Yes, you two never met? Liz, this is Bill Young, my direct boss. He's head of all us space jockeys. Bill, this is my wife Liz." "Simply stunning, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. You're all he talks about." Liz laughed, knowing that wasn't a lie. "And who is this that you are with?" Liz asked, making the unknown woman feel part of the conversation. "Michael, I wanted you to meet Dr. Megan McCormack. Dr., this is Michael Owen." They exchanged greetings before Young continued. "The Doctor here is our latest addition to Astronaut Program and brings a background in Medicine and Psychology. Very very bright young lady. She graduated high school two years early and graduated Harvard Medical School in record time." "That's quite impressive," Michael said upon hearing Megan's qualifications. "Michael here piloted the second shuttle mission STS-2 and commanded STS-6. He's one of my top Astronauts. He came to us a Colonel from the Air Force where he flew fighters and those strange flying saucers over area 51. No seriously, you stick close to him and you will learn a lot. "I would be happy to. Doctor, this is my wife Liz," he said making sure to include her in the conversation. The two ladies introduced themselves before Liz turned to Michael. "Excuse me a moment. Honey, they are going to be taking the group photos with us in about ten minutes. I'm going to run to the ladies room and freshen up a bit. I will meet you over there ok?" "Ok love, see you in a few," Michael said as they quickly kissed. The Doctor also excused herself and caught up with Liz leaving Michael alone. --- "You look really amazing in that gown Liz," Megan said, "very classy. I can't wait to see those photos. The one of you and Michael alone is going to be very special. I wish I could pull that kind of a look off, but I'm a little too nerdy." "Don't be silly, you look very beautiful," Liz said, returning the compliment. "As for me, I personally can't wait to get home and take this off. Not a fan of this gown, but Michael bought it for me - he has this thing about red silky and shiny clothes and thinks they belong on me. Tonight is really all about him, and I love him, so I figured a few hours of misery won't be so bad. Next time if he likes it that much, he can wear it." "Well that is very commendable to take care of your man like that. I think you two are very cute together. How long have you two been married?" "We just had our nine year anniversary on September 21st." "Nine years? Most military marriages usually fall apart long before." "Nope, not us, we are still honeymooning and will likely grow old together," Liz said, taking a sip of her cocktail while staring at Michael off in the distance." "You have kids?" "Yes, we have a little girl, she's six now." Liz reached into her purse and grabbed her keychain with the attached photo frame, then handed it to Megan," "Is this her? Aw Liz she's so cute. What's her name?" "That's Ashley, our little pride and joy. Very smart like her dad. Not sure where she got the blond hair from." "I hope to meet her sometime." "I would like that. Do you live in the area?" "Yes, I just bought a place a couple of years ago, little east of Houston." "How do you like Texas?" "Love it, born and raised here." Liz was a little surprised. "Really, you don't sound like it?" "Oh, you give it time, you will hear it. My parents are pretty sophisticated and spoke proper English, but we kids absorbed a little of the local accent. How about you, where are you from?" "Grew up in Florida, met Michael while he was stationed near my house. His dad was military and grew up moving around although he mostly calls himself a Californian. We lived there for a while before he joined NASA and we moved to Houston." "You like the Lone Star State?" "I don't fit in very well, you are the only Texan I seem to connect with. So what about you, you here with anyone?" Liz asked, trying to get to know her new friend. "No, I am still single. Been too busy, and boys just make things complicated. Give it a couple of years and I will starting thinking about finding my knight in shining armor." Liz listened as her eye caught some kind of commotion at the far end of the banquet hall. There were a few people in military uniforms that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Several of Michael's bosses that she met tonight were leaving with the uniformed military personnel. "You two still talking?" Michael said from behind, grabbing ahold of Liz's shoulders and giving her a little massage. "Hey babe, what's going on over there?" Liz asked. Michael and Megan both looked around trying to find what Liz was talking about. Michael saw it first. "I have no idea, something looks serious. We don't have anything up right now. I wonder what that's all about. Stay here, let me go find out." ---September 14th, 1987 Moscow, Russia--- The matre d' escorted Megan through the restaurant toward a private dining area. The door was guarded by two large men in suits, men you did not want to find yourself on their bad side, assuming they had a good side. "Doctor, follow me," one of the bodyguards said. He led her into the private area which was surprisingly large, a second dining area that had been closed off and reserved just for her and Nikolai. As soon as Nikolai saw her enter, he stood up and rushed over to finish escorting her, ordering his bodyguard outside. "Megan, it's great to see you. I trust those two didn't scare you?" "They look pretty frightening, where did you get them, the military?" "Worse, Canadian hockey team." Megan started laughing, already feeling comfortable in Mitri's presence. "Here, let me take your coat." She handed him her coat as he helped her into the booth. "This is quite a setup, Nikolai, thank you for arranging for us to get together." "Of course, I was overjoyed when I got call you wanted to see me. We never had chance to get together with all craziness. How are you holding up? How is Eugene?" "Eugene is getting stronger. For the most part his spirits are high, but I catch him when he is alone and I know he is taking it hard. Not easy to accept after you spent your life walking, to suddenly live confined to a wheelchair." "I can't imagine. It was an incredible sacrifice he made, one that not many would do. How about you, how are you holding up?" "I'm falling apart to tell you the truth. I've spent my whole life being the voice of reason to so many. The glue that keeps people together. I've finally reached a point in my life where I can't glue myself together anymore. Not sure if that makes sense?" "We are not supposed to work alone, but as a big team. That is not just true for cosmonauts, but all walks of life. Solving your own problems isn't healthy. You might be a professional psychologist, but you still need one of your own. Like a cosmologist cutting their own hair, can't be done that effectively." Megan started busting up laughing. "What did I say?" "I'm sorry Nikolai, forgive me. Your English is great, but I think you meant to say cosmetologist." "Is this not what I said, yes?" "No, you said cosmologist, like cosmonaut. Someone that studies the cosmos. Cosmetologist is one who cuts hair." "Oh...I always wondered about that. That is funny." "I'm sorry to move off topic, but your analogy is dead on. I shouldn't be cutting my own hair." "So what's been troubling you?" Mitri asked, sensing Megan had something to say but couldn't bring herself to talk about it. He poured her a glass of wine, and then one for himself. She sucked it down and waited for a refill before starting. "I have been beating myself up for causing Gene's injury, but I know there is something deeper going on that I can't talk to anyone else about. You are the only one I can talk to." "Why me? We are good friends, but how can I solve psychologist's problems, I am physicist - I got those correct right?" "Yes," Megan said, allowing herself to laugh a little, not sure if he was continuing the humor, or very cautious not to make another embarrassing mistake with his English. "I?wanted to see you because," she paused and thought how to proceed, then attempted to start from scratch, "Nikolai, you and I are...what I am trying to say is-" "My friend, I take it you want to talk about a friend of ours?" Megan nodded quickly, relieved he broke the ice so she wouldn't violate the trust Michael had in her had she been wrong. "I see. This is special friend we talk about right?" She nodded more. "Yes." "She told me you knew, did she tell you about me?" "No, I haven't spoken with her since the incident." "So how do you know what I know?" Megan thought about the simple description of the doll in her house. An angel on the outside. Without ever laying eyes on it, she could envision the blond flowing wavy hair that often looked unkept atop Kaaren's head. The bright radiant blue eyes that appeared to be illuminated from behind. Then, her brother began to describe plainly the astronaut underneath. Her doll, the astronaut being the outermost layer was detailed with her?name patch on the front and her unmistakable cute but geeky look. She pictured Michael's face on the astronaut layer, his short crewcut and thick mustache that he would from time to time shave. "There is a doll, similar to the one you gave me, but this one was very special. Mine was a memento of our time together, but the one I am curious about has a very special message." Megan watched as he tensed up at what she was revealing to him. "You saw?" "No, my niece found it in my house and has been playing with it. Over the phone, my brother described it to me." "How would Matryoshka Doll wind up in your house?" "Because, our friend has been living there. Nikolai, our friend is very dear to me. I do not openly talk of her to anyone, but I am intrigued by the metaphor our friend's Matryoshka contained inside." "What about it?" "I see. It seams we are in a stalemate. There is a struggle inside. I need help, but my profession forbids be from talking about my patients. More importantly, my loyalty to my friend silences my voice, cursing me to forever walk alone, the sole bearer of truth. Nikolai, please, I need your help. Somehow, you can see through this angelic being, seeing deep into the soul that pilots that incredible body." "Perhaps I see someone there, perhaps not, what do you see Doctor?" "I can't talk about that. She is a friend, but is also a patient, I can't disclose what I think or know inside." "I see," Mitri said, feeling the burden of breaking his silence first. "So what am I? Am I not a loyal friend too? Why do you come here expecting me to share?" "Nikolai, the doll tells me you know something. I want to talk, but I can't." Megan got up feeling a little buzzed, "I am sorry to have bothered you, I thought...I don't know what I was hoping to get from this meeting. Thank you for your time," Nikolai stood up and tried to stop her, but she ignored him, working her way around the tables toward the exit. "Megan, stop!" His loud voice stopped her in her tracks. She stood there holding her purse close to her chest with both arms wrapped around it as if holding a teddy bear. Her eyes remained fixed on the exit door, while Mitri continued. "It was him Megan. I don't know how, but you are right, the Matryoshka is correct, inside the angel, Michael lives on. I like to think he came to Russia to see me," Megan slowly turned and faced Nikolai, her face soaked in tears. "He loves you. No one else he wanted to see again more than you. Yes Mitri, your instincts are correct, Michael and Karen are the same person," He walked over to her and escorted her back to the table, giving her another drink, "I'm sorry I couldn't say anything." "No apologies Doctor, you are a loyal friend. You are bound by oath, not easy to break, even when a friend is in trouble. Don't forget that." Nikolai held her hand and continued to speak, "I am loyal to you and to Michael, and from here on out, you and I have secret pact to keep Michael safe, my brother too." "He knows as well?" "Only that she is not of this world, but does not know the man inside. He is a good man and will keep her safe." "How did you know who he was?" Megan asked. Mitri gave it a quick thought. "I assume same as you. When one knows someone well enough, we can see through vales they hide behind." He watched her silently as if deep in thought, "What is it you are thinking?" "All our times together. From when I first met him at the party, to our early days of training. From the very beginning, we seemed as if we had always been friends, Liz too. He never once thought of me as anything but one of his team, and went out of his way to help me. Remember my first training flight with him. You were flying with Dwayne?" "Oh how can I forget. Both trying hard to get us to toss cookies." ---First Hop February, 1984--- "You all ready for this Doc?" Dr. McCormack was all strapped in and had a nervous look on her face, still she gave a positive thumbs up. "Good, we are going to do some basic flight maneuvers first, then we are going to get into the fun stuff. This button here in your hand, if you can't take the G-s press this button and it will let me know up front. It's strapped to your wrist so you shouldn't lose it. Any questions?" "No, just a little scared." "I know, it can be scary at first, that's why we are going to take it slow at first. Welcome to the big leagues Doc, you are going to do just fine. Remember, what we will be doing today is nothing in terms of the speed we will be doing in the shuttle. Just remember your training in the centrifuge and the briefing today and you will do fine. This will be a little different, as we will be changing direction, but remember those techniques and your G-suit will do the rest. If you're good, I might let you fly a little, how does that sound?" "Sounds fun," McCormack said with half enthusiasm. "Ok, lets get this show on the road." "Michael!" He was half way down the ladder when she called. After climbing back up, she said, "you're not going easy on me because I'm a woman are you, because I don't want you to. Hit me with everything you got." "No Doc, I'm not going easy on you because you are a woman, I'm going easy on you until your body finishes digesting that breakfast you ate. I don't want you puking all over my office." "Your office?" "Yeah, us pilots work in an office with the best damn view in the world." I gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder before climbing down, then climbing into the pilot's seat of the T-38. NASA had a nice fleet of the trainer variant of the F-5 that had long since been retired as an active duty fighter craft. For training, they were perfect, agile and could reach speeds of about Mach 1.3. Flight crews helped me strap in while I brought up the plane's systems. "This is Saint in Talon One, requesting take off instructions, over." "Tower to Talon One, proceed to runway three and hold." "Roger tower, proceeding to runway three." After switching the radio com off, Michael turned his head back to McCormack." "Can you hear me Doc?" "Yeah Michael, I hear you." "Good, it will be a few minutes before we get clearance for take off," He warned her of the typical delays while he turned the aircraft down runway one where he would turn around and prep for take off. "Doc, you do a lot of flying in commercial planes?" "I've had my share of air travel." "Well the take off alone is a blast. I will let you know when we are about to take off." "Saint, why did they call you Saint?" "Saint's my Air Force call sign from when I flew better planes than this." "How did you get the name?" "The other pilots give you your call sign and you get stuck with it. Well they found out my Mom named me after St. Michael, the Arch Angel. You know him?" "Irish Catholic, of course." "Arch Angel was taken, so they started calling me Saint, and it stuck. Took a whole five minutes my first day." "So, are you really a saint?" "Most of the time, that's another reason why they call me that. They think I am a do gooder, a perfect little saint. But I got news for you Doc, after we land, you might think I'm the devil incarnate. Hold on, here we go." Michael said as he acknowledged the tower's permission to take off and started increasing throttle. He waited for the engines to start pushing on the locked wheels before releasing the brake. The plane lurched forward and Michael rapidly increased throttle. The plane zipped down the runway picking up speed until the plane had enough airflow over the wings for lift. Michael raised the throttle higher and pulled back on the stick bringing the nose up. The moment the plane cleared the runway, he raised the gear and took the bird into a steep climb. "Look behind you Doc," He shouted back to her. He watched her in the mirror looking around in amazement as the ground rapidly grew smaller below. "Damn that was fun!" She yelled like a teenager. "Ok, that was going up, going down is a little worse, but it's not bad once you get used to it. Ready?" "Yes..I mean no," it was too late, Michael was already rolling the planed and pointed the nose toward the ground. She was screaming, but not with a sense of dread, rather from excitement. She started laughing as it was the only way to fight that feeling of your stomach wanting to invert itself and come up your throat. Most people experience this type of feeling on roller coasters, where the drop is usually done before your stomach overcomes the feeling. After several sudden dives, Megan learned the feelings were short-lived and the motion wasn't as scary as she had always envisioned it to be. "How you doing back there?" "I love it, more, hit me with more." "You're gonna regret that" Michael said as he pulled out of the dive and performed a series of barrel rolls ending with a loop. "Yeeeehaw!" Megan's native Texan emerged as she cried out. He could tell she was a natural. "Talon Two to Talon One, Saint old buddy, you copy?" "Copy Gumby read you loud and clear. How's your GIB doing?" "Looking pretty green and we have only taken off." "What's a GIB?" Shephard asked, unsure of what Michael had just called him over the radio. "Relax Shep, GIB means Guy in Back, it's what we call the person riding in the back seat. Don't you worry though, we will think of something truly tasteless to name you. "Oh great, looking forward to it," she said with a sense of dread, worried she would forever get stuck with some stupid nickname. Collins pulled up alongside in tight formation. Looking in the rear view mirror at Michael's "Girl in Back", Megan waved to Shephard and Collins. "Gumby, ready for the first run?" "Roger Saint, take lead." Michael began increasing throttle, no longer bothering with giving Megan any warnings. The pilots ran through a series of maneuvers, getting the two newbies used supersonic flight and higher g-forces. Every time Michael increased the complexity of the maneuvers, he kept expecting the little light up front to start glowing, announcing McCormack couldn't take it any more. The little bulb never illuminated, instead, her excitement continued to build. A loud grotesque sound poured through the radio then was quickly muffled. "We have a winner!" Gumby yelled over the radio while bringing the plane to a stable cruising flight. "Shep, take your mask off." "Yeah, yeah, I know, it's off. Oh shit, this is disgusting." "How's your boy doing there Gumby?" "Not so good Saint, he has something that looks like shepherd's pie all over his flight suit." "Chunky or smooth?" McCormack tossed in, trying to fit in, bringing Gumby and Michael to a hard laugh. "Doc, I do believe it's the chunky kind. I think I can see some carrots in the rear view. What's your prognosis?" "Sounds like my dad's recipe," she said. "Thanks Doc for your support, I was just starting to like you," Shephard finally said, "man this shit's disgusting." "Saint, permission to bring the good Doctor back to base," Collins asked, recommending they end their little flight early since his mask was covered in vomit and not safe as it could cause choking. "Good call Gumby, permission granted," Michael said before calling the tower. "Talon One to Tower, Talon Two is heading back. Have a clean up crew with a hose and scrub brush meet them on tarmac." "Congrats doc, looks like you win," Michael called out. "Not so fast Saint, you have two more contestants," a voice said over the radio. "Saint, is that Tuna I smell?" Collins asked over the radio. "Afraid so. Welcome to the party Tuna," Michael said. "Who's Tuna?" McCormack asked." "Tuna is Dwayne Turner's callsign from back in the day. He's been trying to get rid of that name, but he's had no luck." "Why Tuna?" "Some admin in my flight school had a thick accent," Turner said, jumping in to tell the story before anyone else could, "and when he said Turner, it came out Tuna. Instantly I was tuna from that point on." Megan was laughing at the short story. "Don't listen to him, he's full of it," He said over the radio, "I met a few of his fellow pilots when he flew for the 138th. They all say his story is a big steaming pile of BS. According to them, Tuna here, had a nice helping of...you guessed it tuna before going up on his first training flight. As you can guess, something else came up and it stunk up the cockpit so bad, his instructor chucked. He was lucky he had good pilot instincts, because that instructor tried everything to fail him. When he passed flight, he did the only thing he could to make sure Turner would never forget him. From then on, he was Tuna and damn, the other pilots were brutal. Open cans of tuna would randomly appear in his locker or under his bunk and stink the place up for days before he figured it out. To this day he can't stand the stuff." "You're a crack-up Saint, you are very misinformed. Let's see how you would like a cockpit full of Pink Freud's vomit covering your canopy." He punched the throttle and took off, leaving them in his vapor trail. "Pink Freud? Screw that, go get em Michael?" "You sure you're up for-" "Yes yes, punch it," McCormack yelled. Michael throttled up and started dumping fuel engaging the after burner taking chase. "Tuna, who's riding piggyback with you?" "Saint, got me an Ivan back here," he said, purposely trying to piss Michael off more than his Russian passenger. "I bet you fifty bucks, your dame chucks first." --- "That was great, way to kick Tuna's ass. Thought he was getting the best of you several times until you showed him who's boss," Megan said as she started undoing her restraints. Michael took her helmet from her and helped her get out of the back seat of the plane. "In the end, we're all on the same team Doc." "You're right, but it's still fun to compete a bit. When are we going up again?" "Few hours. I'm impressed Doc, you handled yourself better than some of the male pilots on their first flight. You should be proud of yourself." "So when do I get a call sign?" "Usually you gotta get your wings before you can have a call sign, but I think we can make an exception," He said, helping her out of her harness. "I take it you didn't like Pink Freud. Personally I find it kinda funny, but since Dwayne thought if it, we will have to discount it." "I don't know, love the band, so it's not that bad other than his sexist rhetoric behind it. I might grow fond of it." "Hey Doc. Sorry to change the subject, but would you like meet my daughter?" "Ashley? I would love to Michael, where is she?" "She and Liz are supposed to be here to meet me for lunch before we go back up." "Aw, of course Michael, Liz showed me a picture of her? I bet she's as adorable in person, has to be with parents like you and Liz." "She is, I wish I had more time to be there with her as she grows up. So much of what I do is to make sure she has that opportunity. I want to keep her a cute kid forever, but It's my hope she will have the chance to grow up." "Liz is such a lucky woman, you are such a rare catch. You, Michael, are too good to be true." "Not really, I have my flaws, but thank you anyway." He said, trying to be humble. Collins and Shephard pulled up in a jeep. Shephard looked as if he had been hosed off. "You two need a ride?" he said as they pulled up alongside. "After you doc," Michael said as he motioned towards the jeep. --- "How are my girls doing?" Michael said as planting a big kiss on each of their cheeks. "We are good, we were at the mall for a while before coming over. Ashley got several new outfits for school." "You did huh? Spending Daddy's hard earned money?" He said picking her up, "Not too much longer and daddy's not going to be able to lift you up like this anymore." "So how did she do today?" Liz asked, referring to Megan's first flight. "The Doc, she was amazing, she had me pushing about the max G's I could pull in that plane and was able to take everything I threw at her. She is a natural. You should have seen Eugene, though." "Chucked?" "Yep." "You think he is cut out to be an astronaut?" "Well time will tell, so far he has been doing remarkably well. It's normal for people to throw up on their first high G flight, so I won't hold that against him." "Why are they choosing so many non astronauts for the mission? What is it you guys are going to be doing up there?" Michael was about to be in a tough situation, he hated lying to Liz, but had no choice. "And you must be the adorable Ashley Owen?" McCormack said coming to my rescue. She saw Megan in her flight suit and saluted her as she got close, bringing the adults to a hard laugh. "Oh my god, that's so cute," she said, returning the salute. "Ash, sweetie, this is someone daddy is working with. This is Dr. McCormack." Ashley suddenly got shy and turned her head as Michael set her down. "Nonsense," Megan said, kneeling down, "You can call me Dr. Megan, okay? How old are you Ashley?" Ash turned and held her fingers up, "Seven huh? Such a big girl." "She keeps growing on us, pretty soon she's going to be a teen, then she is going be a real handful for her father," Liz added. "No way, she will always be a kid to me," Michael said, refusing to accept that she will one day, provided we succeed, grow up and outgrow her need for a daddy." "So Megan, how was your first flight, Michael here tells me you did great. Judging by the lack of stains on your flight suit, I take it he is not blowing smoke up my backside." "Not at all, I loved every minute of it. Quite an exhilarating experience if you ask me." "Just wait, that was only mach one. That was nothing compared to what we will do during lift off and re-entry," Michael said, giving her a little taste into the future of things to come. "Mommy, I'm thirsty," Ashley said, clearly getting bored from the adults talking. "There's a vending machine over there, you mind if I take her and get something?" Megan offered, giving us the time alone. Liz gave her some change and the two took off. ?"No soda!" Liz yelled as the two ran off. "I really like her Michael. She's a great addition to your team and there is no one else I would trust to look after you. Why don't you invite her to lunch with us?" "You don't mind having her along?" "Of course not, let's go see if she's free," Michael stood side by side with Liz, putting his arm around her and began walking to the vending machines. ---Megan and Mitri, Present Day--- "It is good you were able to connect with his family. Any luck finding them?" He asked with a concerned voice. "Last I heard, they are still missing. No one has a clue." Megan recounted all they had done so far to find them and the endless pursuit Michael had been going through. "It is too bad. All that power, and he still powerless. He needs you Megan, you know you need go to him?" "Yes, we was always there for me. He never once looked down on me for being a woman, or you and Igor for once being an enemy. He was always open to all. Remember the?night where Igor and Dwayne got into it? "How can I forget?" ---Commodore Lounge, Florida--- "Michael tells me you started seeing someone. Another astronaut?" Liz asked Megan while they sat in a comfy lounge booth. The teams had flown to Florida earlier in the month for a month long series of training at Kennedy. Liz had decided to take Ashley to Florida where she had grown up and then surprise her dad for his birthday. "He did huh?" Megan replied, not really surprised that Michael shared that information with Liz. "Of course, we tell each other everything. Don't worry, I won't blab it to the rest of the world." "Thanks. It's really not that big of a deal, but I am really busy with training and I don't want people talking. I can be all serious and little play, but if I screw up, they will point the finger and claim it's my emotions for him clouding my judgement. It's lame really how they treat us women. The guys could have all the fun they want, screw up constantly and no one will question it. Sucks being a woman in this world." "Yes, it's very hard at times, but think about it Megan, you are one of the few American women to go into space, that's huge," Liz said, reminding her just how many milestones they have made since the dawn of time. "So you gonna tell me about him?" "Well, he's not an astronaut yet, he's currently about five months into the training program. Pretty good guy. I gave a talk at one of his classes and we started chatting after. We went out a few times and that was it. Been together about two months now." Megan started to look around the lounge. "Where's Ashley by the way?" Liz sat up and looked along the back wall and started smiling. "She's with her dad and Nikolai. They are in the booth at the end, where she's keeping them entertained." "One of these days I am going to have to get me a little bundle of joy of my own," Megan said, sneaking a peek at Ashley and Michael together. "He's a really good dad, really rare in men these days. Most don't pay much attention to their kids when they finally get home, especially the girls. So sad, because we look up to our daddies and think the world of them. The relationship between Michael and Ashley reminds me a lot of me and my dad. We have a very close relationship, likely from our similar personalities. Calls me his M&M and I won't let anyone else use it, it belongs exclusively to him." "That's cute. Your initials right?" "Yes, that and when I was four I stuck an M&M up my nose. I tried to get it out, but it kept moving further up. Kept it there for hours before I finally told my Dad. He just laughed and helped me get it out." "Thats quite a funny story, when Ashley was-." Liz was interrupted by the sight, out of the corner of her eye, of someone suddenly standing near the edge of their table. She opened a menu and started to speak when she looked up to see a tall woman with short blonde hair wearing a military uniform." "Excuse me Ma'am, I don't mean to interrupt," Liz, with a little disappointment, set the menu back down and looked up at her, giving her a friendly welcoming smile. "Don't worry about it, can I help you with something?" "Thank you," she turned to Megan, "Dr. McCormack right?" "Yes, that's correct, do I know you?" Megan asked the strange woman as she struggled to recall who she was. "No, we have not met. I'm Captain Julie Jordan, US Air Force. I am very honored to meet you Doctor, you're quite an inspiration, being one of the few women in space." "Thank you very much, although I kinda got a lucky break. Pleased to meet you Captain Jordan. What do you do in the Air Force?" Megan asked. "I'm an Aviator." "Really? What do you fly?" "Fighter planes," she said, being vague. "And you think I'm inspiring? I didn't know they were allowing women in fighter planes. I think I should be inspired by you." Megan turned and held her hand out toward Liz. "Captain Jordan, this is Liz Owen, her husband is former Air Force and just took me up on my first flight not too long ago." "Owen, as in Colonel Owen?" "My one and only," Liz said, realizing she might have come across as being possessive. "I'm supposed to meet some others from my squadron here. Turns out the boys in my squadron, the few who still fly, came by to visit your husband while he is in here at Kennedy. I think your husband flew in my Squadron out of Eglin in Florida." Liz got excited and turned her attention to Jordan. "Julie, right? Mind if I call you Julie?" "Of course," she said, shaking hands. Megan sat on the other side thankful the attention was directed anywhere but toward her. "Megan, you mind if Julie here joins us a few?" "Sure," Megan moved over letting Jordan sit down with them, adjusting her uniform as she squeezed into the booth. "Thank you for inviting me," she said, glad she quickly found some company other than the guys in her squadron whom she followed along just to fit in. She knew they would be upset to find her here waiting for them, but she didn't care. "So Julie, you fly with the 150...um-" "-second, the 152nd," she said, helping Liz out. "Yes, that's it. It's been a while. The Reapers right?" "That's correct." "How long have you been flying with them?" "About two years. It's brutal. The few of us girls have to put up with a ton of crap, but being able to fly through the clouds with twin jets strapped to my ass is so worth it." "What's your call sign?" Megan asked. "Hollywood," she said with her head hung a little low. "That's a pretty cool name, usually they can be a little crude. You are pretty attractive. What, do they think you are some kind of Hollywood star?" "I loved the name, until I found out why they call me that. See the guys call their planes their office-" "-Yeah, Michael told me about that when we went up the first time. Office with the best view right?" "Very good Dr. McCormack. Only they call my plane the "Box office," Megan put her hand up to her mouth as she gasped. "Aww, that's terrible, men can be such assholes." "I don't get it," Liz said. "Honey, it's yet another, on the long list of words men use in place of saying "vagina". Guess for some reason that can't just use the clinical name and have to defile us," Liz expressed her dissatisfaction as Ashley appeared at the table and cut off Jordan as she began to speak. "Mommy, I'm hungry?" Liz turned to her daughter and patted her head. "Ashley honey, be polite, don't interrupt the adults. Say you're sorry to Ms Jordan here. She turned and said a cute apology before turning back to her mom to repeat her demands for sustenance, "Come on, sit next to mommy. What do you want to eat?" Ashley crawled under the table and sat in between her mom and Megan. "Hi Ashley," Megan said, giving her a hug, you done visiting with your Daddy?" "Him and that man are talking weird. I can't understand them," Megan and Liz started laughing knowing what she was talking about while Jordan, a little lost, only chuckled. "That's Russian that your Daddy is speaking," Megan said, explaining to Ashley what it was she was hearing. "Mr. Mitri is from Russia and Daddy knows how to talk like him. You should ask your Daddy to teach you." She didn't speak, but showed a sense of displeasure about learning a new language, picking up a menu and asking Megan for her help reading it. The women continued to talk, enjoying their evening while Michael was enjoying his surprise visit with some old friends. Liz kept looking at the booth hoping the guys in Jordan's squadron would leave so that she could introduce her to Michael. They appeared to be getting ready to hit the next bar when Ashley called out. "Hi Dwayne," she said waving across the table "Hey there kiddo," he said, stopping and turning toward the table more interested in Liz's presence than Ashley's. "Hi Liz, good to see you." He turned to Megan, "Pink Freud," greeting her as well with a hint of drunkenness in his voice. Liz forced herself to be friendly and acknowledged his presence. "Hi Dwayne," she said in a dry voice with little emotion behind it. "What do we have here?" Dwayne sized her up, studying her uniform and decorations. He saw the wings on her left breast. "Nah, really? They finally let you girls fly? What do they have you flying, cargo planes?" "She's a fighter pilot Dwayne." He gave her a look with serious disbelief showing in his facial expressions. "That right?" "Yes," Julie said. "Dwayne, you flew in the Navy right?" Liz asked, uncertain if that was correct. "No, I was Air Force. You are thinking of Collins," Liz expressed her apology for mixing the two up, "So what do you fly Captain...Jordan?" He added her name after reading off her brass nameplate. "15s." "No shit? That a lot of power for a young lass like yourself to handle. Careful putting that mascara on at mach 2." Liz could see her displeasure, but she resisted saying something either from professional respect or she was just immune to the sexist banter. "Dwayne, don't be an sexists asshole. I think it's great they are allowing Women to fly," Liz stepped in, saying what she knew Jordan was thinking. Ashley's jaw dropped upon hearing her mother swear and Liz quickly apologized to her daughter. Julie shifted in the booth upon seeing Megan return and allowed her to sit down. "Hey McCormack, I have a question for you?" Dwayne, being somewhat polite, said. "What do you want Turner?" "You published some papers on psychology and space exploration right?" "Yes, what about it?" "I would like to read them, that's all. It's relevant to projects I have worked on, mind telling me where I can read them and perhaps pick your brain sometime?" "Dwayne, we're all busy these days, I don't have a lot of time to talk about much unless it's regarding our current mission," she said, trying to blow him off. He thought about how long they would be in space during the mission and quickly adjusted his approach." "Well, lets say it is relevant." Megan was getting annoyed that he was taking up her free time and conceded to get rid of him. "Dwayne, hit me up on Wednesday, I will see what I can do, right now I would like to get back to the conversation we were having and enjoy the little free time that I have." "Sure, Wednesday then." He turned to Liz and caught a final glimpse of her, studying all the features that made him ripe with envy. He gave her cleavage, peeking out from her low cut top, a long gaze before making eye contact and giving her a quick wink before leaving to join the others. --- "Excuse us Commander, Comrade Mitri and I go to bar," Igor said, getting up from the booth with Nikolai trailing. As the two walked off, Michael saw as Liz approached with a tall woman trailing behind her. "Hey love," Michael said as Liz came and stood at his side, "just in time, I was about to get lonely." "Michael, I want you to meet someone. This is Captain Julie Jordan. She's a pilot with your old fighter squadron." Michael, excited, quickly got up from the table and greeted her. Surprised by her hight, he looked up, making eye contact with her. "No kidding, you fly with the 152nd? Colonel. Owen, pleasure to meet you Captain." Michael and Jordan went through all the formalities of the introductions before proceeding with a conversation. He scooted back into the booth with Liz taking a seat next to her husband, while Jordan pulled up a chair and sat at the edge of the table. "How long have you been flying Captain?" "Been flying since I was 14 Sir. My pops flew F-4s in Vietnam and after the war used to take me up. He taught me how to fly. Joined the Air Force and persisted through flight school. Got my wings and flew cargo planes before advancing to E-3's. Then, my dream shot came through after a senator made a push to give us girls a shot." "I take it you have the F-15C?" "Yes, our entire fleet are 15Cs, we completed the transition from the A variant about three years ago and now I am hearing rumors of a new variant in the works. By far one of the best fighters in the air," she said, starting to rant about her experiences in the cockpit. The two talked for quite a while, sharing stories while Michael gave her an abundance of advice. "Thank you Sir, I am very grateful for your help. I have had to figure a lot of things out on my own. As you can tell, it's still a guy's world and they don't want me around. Seems like they are more interested in seeing me fail than succeed." Jordan declined to make this great conversation about her bad experiences and let him use his imagination. He was a true gentlemen and treated her with respect without ever thinking of her as anything other than one of the guys. She wished her squadron had at least one like him. "Well Captain, we are just going to have to make you that much better. I have to go up on Tuesday. I think I might be able to pull a few favors and find me an Eagle rental instead of the T-38. What would you say if I can have you tag along, see if we can give you a few pointers?" "You would do that for me Sir?" Liz leaned in close putting her arm around her husband. "Honey, that's so sweet of you for helping her out. Can you really arrange that?" "I don't see why not, I still have a few good friends in the Air Force who would gladly do things for me." Michael turned to Jordan, "If it works out, your commanding officer will pass down your orders to report to the Airfield at 0700. How does that sound?" She nodded with enthusiasm as some commotion caught Michaels attention. He turned his head toward the bar and found Dwayne arguing with Igor. Michael quickly got up and rushed over before the situation got out of hand. "Fuck you, you commie bastard," Dwayne said, cussing at Igor. "It is just joke, no need get upset," Igor said, trying to calm the situation down. Dwayne ignored him and gave him a hard push, knocking him to the ground. Mitri helped his friend up and turned toward Dwayne, fists clenching. "Come on Ivan, wanna go a couple rounds?" Before there was a change of escalation, Michael calmly stepped in between them. "Go away Owen, this isn't any of your business." "What's this all about Dwayne?" Michael said, trying to be calm and defuse Dwayne by getting him to talk. Dwayne's fists were in a fighting pose ready to strike. Michael, seeing that Dwayne was drunk and on edge, adjusted his footing and calmly raised his hands to his waist and opened his fingers wide to show he wasn't going to fight back, "Dwayne, talk to me. Igor is both of our responsibilities, he's going to be part of one team or the other." "Fucking ruskie gave me a shot with nothing but water from a can of tuna. Almost puked." Those watching the standoff unfolding who knew the story started laughing, while Michael restrained every part of himself to keep the situation under control. "Get out of my way Saint, or I am going to drop you before I knock his head off. "Dwayne, what do you like to drink? I prefer Jack, myself. Do you know the place they make it is a dry county, you can't even drink there?" Dwayne was getting confused as Michael was talking to him as if they were just shooting the breeze sitting at the bar. His mind couldn't process the rage flowing through him and Michael's casual conversation at the same time. "Tequila, I like tequila," Dwayne said, answering Michael's question and starting to converse and release his aggression. "Oh man, that's good stuff too. Not that crap grain alcohol, but a good tequila. Doesn't Texas have some great tequilas. I know a pretty good place not far from my house, they have about eighty different types of tequila. Wanna go sometime?" Dwayne lowered his hands, "tell you what, lets see how good Florida's is before and we can compare when we get home." Michael gently put his hand on Dwayne's shoulder and led him to the bar where he ordered a round of drinks for the two. Megan watched in amazement how quickly Michael neutralized him. He sat there, uncaring how much of an ass Dwayne could be, drinking with him until his rival passed out and Davis drove him home. "You have to admit, that was pretty funny, tuna water?" Megan said as her and Liz approached. "Yes it was, remind me to put in an accommodation into Yeltsov's file." "Honey that was very brave of you, I thought you were going to use your Aikido on him," Liz said knowing full well what her husband was capable of. "I did, use Aikido. Who says it has to be physical?" The words stuck with Megan as she drove back to her hotel. When she got inside she began taking frantic notes of the night's even't while they were still fresh in her head before going to bed. ---Megan and Mitri, Present Day--- Megan finish recounting her part of the story to Mitri. "He had that way with people. He was calm and collected, and regardless of who the person was, he went out of his way to make sure he could do something for them, like he did with Jordan. Ended up doing exactly what he promised her. You know, that night is what made me realize that Michael was the one for the mission." ---Panel Interview for A-Team Command, June 1985--- "Colonel Owen, thank you for joining us," Thompson said as he greeted me and led into the room where several others were waiting. "Thank you Sir." "Owen, you of course know Bill Young, Chief Astronaut, George Kuntz, Director of Missions Operations, Dr. McCormack, and you may have met James Biggs, NASA Administrator to the President. To his left is General Payton Chief military advisor to the President, and finally Beregovoi, head of the Yuri Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Center of the Soviet Union." He finished the introductions that were more of a formality than an actual introduction, as many of them I already worked closely with on a day to day basis. "Owen," Biggs said, starting the hearing, "I must say, we are very impressed with your record. You are a little young, but you are top notch in your class and your performance has exceeded our best expectations." "Thank you sir, ever since I was young I wanted to fly. Every aircraft I mastered left me wanting to go higher and higher. It's been a real honor to be an astronaut." "We can see you enjoy what you do," Young said. "Owen, we called you in here today for a couple reasons. I'm sure you are aware of the enormous pressure we have regarding the success of this mission, but in the aftermath, the United States and the Soviet Union look to form a long- lasting relationship. While the politics may continue to be a little rough here and there, our scientific partnership is expected to continue long into the future. This mission will be the first joint US/Soviet mission in space. It's important that our two countries have a tight working relationship on the ground and in space. This is why we have asked you to come in. Mr. Beregovoi is going to ask you a series of questions, please answer any questions truthfully." "Yes Sir." "Colonel Owen," he began in Russian, taking me aback for a quick second, "I understand you are quite fluent in Russian, is this so?" "Yes sir, I have over four years studying Russian. I am not fluent, but I hope to be some day." "Very good, have you been to the Soviet Union?" "No Sir, one day perhaps. I look forward to the day I get the opportunity." "I hope you come for a visit soon and see our space center near Moscow." "Yes, I would like that very much." "I understand you and our cosmonauts have a very good relationship. They have reported to me that you are very welcoming and eager to work with them. Is this so?" "Yes, Mitri and Yeltsov are fine physicists and cosmonauts. We spend much time together during our time off, learning more and more about each other's culture. Mitri has been a great language coach, and much of my near-fluency comes from him." "That is good to hear. Tell me, Colonel, you flew for the Air Force before coming to NASA, what did you fly during your time there?" I got a little nervous, and looked at the others on the panel. "Colonel, you may answer his questions." "Sir, I, um-" "-It's Colonel, we know what he is asking, you are authorized to answer his questions. He has clearance from the Pentagon," General Payton answered. "Sir, I flew a variety of aircraft from fighters to...well sir," I stopped and looked on for a final approval, "spy planes." "Yes, I have seen your records. Tell me, why did you want to spy on our country?" "I really didn't want to. I first and foremost wanted to fly the fastest and highest-flying aircraft known to man. The politics behind our two countries' standoff was secondary to my love for flying. Because of my experience, I became fairly well versed in Russian culture, and because of that, my passion for your people grew. This is mainly the reason why your men and I are such good friends." "Very good Colonel. That will be all for right now." ---Dr. McCormack's Analysis--- The panel waited until Michael was out of the room, chatting a few to make sure he was out of earshot before proceeding. "Let's begin shall we?" Kuntz said, beginning the meeting. He opened his personnel file and began speaking. "Commander Dwayne Turner, Retired from the Air Force in 1968. He began his career with NASA in 1972 after completing his Masters Degree in Engineering. Completed Astronaut training in 1974 and began working on advanced life support systems for the Shuttle program. "Dr. McCormack, if you will please present your analysis. Dr. McCormack here has spent many hours training with both teams, and closely observing and evaluating team dynamics. Doctor?" "Thank you. As Kuntz said, I have had the pleasure of working closely with both teams and have found both team leaders to be exceptional candidates on many levels ranging from experience, education, and contributions to furthering the space program by their design work. Many on this panel have thoroughly vetted both Turner and Owen in these regards, so I will not spend a lot of time on that. My main goals were to develop psychological profiles for all prospective candidates for command of A-team especially Turner and Owen." McCormack distributed file folders to each of the members of the panel. "Shuttle missions typically last seven days. Even short duration missions are in critical need of superior leadership. Since Operation THOR will have a much longer duration, this will be even more critical. As part of our preliminary tests, we subjected several test groups to confined environments for three month durations. One test group of seven astronauts began an isolated, self sustained stay within a small research facility where they were monitored 24/7 and the only communication with the outside world was through radio communication, simulating their isolation. The carefully selected A and B groups of mixed race and gender both encountered altercations between residents within the first week of isolation. It began with petty arguments over use of certain resources, and continued to regress into larger scale incidents, some of which involved physical confrontations." Megan paused to turn her page, then took a sip of water to clear her throat before continuing. "In the aftermath of the test, extensive analysis by myself and others on the team found ineffective leadership to be a strong contributing factor to the decline of society within the test environment." "Modifications were made to the leadership, work and rest schedules were created to keep a group busy while the other enjoyed leisure time. The working crew was given a variety of daily tasks and study time. Here we introduced a private room where one could communicate with family and a trained psychologist to help reduce tension. Our second round produced much more favorable results and the group's collective goals were met with a 75% completion factor with only two subjects unable to continue for the full duration. "Phase three. With the help or our Soviet friends, we were able to conduct a similar experiment, but for obvious reasons, with a small group of five. Quick side note, we prefer odd numbered groups as there is always one person who could break a tie and add balance to the group. Back to phase three, for this experiment, the five subjects live on board the Mir Space station for 3 months implementing all lessons learned from previous experiments. The added isolation factor of actually being in space and knowing there was no one on the other side of the walls added tension, but collective goal achievement increased to 83%. It is the belief of myself and my colleagues that highly effective leadership as well as the addition of a trained, onsite professional therapist is essential to this mission." "Very good Doctor. Please continue with your analysis of both of our commanders," Young said. "First I will address Dwayne Turner. Turner in my observation is a risk. He is highly intelligent and very good at solving problems on the fly as well as adapting to sudden changes. These are exceptional traits in a leader on a mission such as THOR. He also has spent much of his career working on environments that created the conditions we study. Overall his leadership skills are in the top percentile of effectiveness. He has a good relationship with his crew. However, when we mixed up that crew, non crew members had a hard time getting along with him and thus were less likely to respond to his leadership. It was also evident, that his cool demeanor was not consistent, at times a different person would emerge during high stress situations. When cornered, his temper could escalate. In addition, he is highly competitive and has a strong desire to be recognized for his achievements. Whe