"Where would she head?" Montana asked the nearest bystander. "If we could head her off and contain her, I would be able to work on some way of countering her condition."
"Beats me," replied the bystander, running for the hills.
Montana tried to put herself in Susan's position. If she were fifty feet tall, where would she go?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the barking of a particularly obnoxious military sergeant on her walkie talkie. First thing, she told herself, she'd do away with people like THAT.
Of course! That was it! Susan would get revenge on those people who'd called her short! Growing more than ten times taller than she had been originally would be a perfect opportunity.
"Sergeant," she told the man, "prepare a platoon to engage the target, but do not harm her! Merely prevent her from going anywhere! I'll give you the co-ordiantes in a few minutes."
She flipped the radio off just before the torrent of abuse from the sergeant, who demanded to know - among other thigns - how he was meant to restrain the giantess without violence.
Fuck him. That was his problem. Hers, besides retro-engineering her invention from its crushed remains, was working out who Susan hated more...
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