Genomorph

Chapter 16

GENOMORPH
By Scott Ramsey

Part 3
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.