The Femme Revolution (a Power and Fury Story)
by demented20
The Femmes kill, destroy, then melt into the night.

Date: November 2005

"So now Benny, I think you have your organization squared away", Malcolm began. He looked around at the faces sitting around the table. Half of the 12 were Benny's people, and the other half were his own. "Are you ready for our phase of this arrangement?" Malcolm asked the question as if it was a formality, but in his mind there were doubts. Malcolm fancied himself a freedom fighter, but according to the government he was a domestic terrorist. He had agreed to help Benny not fully knowing what he was getting into. These super soldiers that Benny's Organization commanded were like nothing Malcolm had ever seen. They were so deadly that 10 men would be little more than a warm up for one of them. Benny could kill Malcolm and all of his men by giving an order to one of his super soldiers. Malcolm knew that he had to give the impression that he still thought of himself as an equal to Benny, but he knew better. Malcolm wondered if Benny could detect his weakness.

Benny smiled and stood up from the table after Malcolm asked the question. "I think its time. You've helped me so much, and now its my turn to help you." Benny reached his hand across the table, and Malcolm stood and shook it at once.

"Let me explain our plans, because I don't want to take your Femmes out without you knowing where they are or what we're doing with them. I think you'll like our plan." Malcolm took the next two hours explaining exactly how he was going use the Femmes and Series 4's to bring attention to his various grievances. The plan was ambitions and bold. Normally Benny would have hated it, but it had some merits. He signed off on the plan, and left the rest of the meeting to the lower level people. They'd work out the details. Benny didn't want to trouble his mind with Malcolm's politics. They gave him a headache. Besides, he had a beautiful woman waiting for him.

Benny walked down the mostly dark halls of the old poultry plant and smiled as he opened the door to his personal apartments. X-424 was right where he had left her. She looked up when he came in. Her face was serene, and sublimely beautiful since she had all the features of a beauty, but no emotions. Benny took a moment to look into her bottomless brown eyes before taking note of what she had been doing before he came in.

"Were you reading?", Benny asked with a frown as he came closer. One of his computer engineering books lay open in front of her.

"Yes, I was", X-424 answered in that flat voice of the Femmes.

"Who told you to read this?"

"No, one. I was not deactivated when you left, so I decided to read the book so that I could better know your interests and better converse with you."

Benny smiled and tossed the book back to the table. "Did you even understand that stuff?"

"Yes, I did."

Benny asked her several questions about the material from his memory, and she answered it from hers, even explaining the concepts behind the things in the book that the text didn't actually explain.

Benny frowned. "Were you programmed with a background in engineering when you were turned into a Series 4.7F?" Benny knew that had to be the answer. If he had known that he could have such technical conversations with his Femmes then he would have done it a long time ago, but her answer surprised him.



"The programing does not deal with any aspects of this particular text, nor any of the concepts that it covers."

Benny looked at X-424 and studied her for a moment. "Who the hell were you?", he asked as he turned away. She knew who she was. X-424 had been named Kristen. The process of turning a woman into a Femme was supposed to wipe out all of who they had been, but not with this one. There had been a speck of her former self left, and that tiny speck was getting larger every day.

He sat and discussed things with X-424. Her knowledge was broad, and it just flowed out of her. Benny could have talked to her all night, but he had to send a Series 4 to retrieve Jean. His second in command had been at the meeting with Malcolm's people. It took a few minutes for him to come.

"You sent for me."

"Yeah, Jean, have a seat. So what do you think about Malcolm's plans?"

"I think he's crazy, but I think he's going to cause some havoc. I can break it down if you want particulars."

"No, no. That's not why I brought you here. I'll be honest, when I first took over this Organization, I wasn't sure that I could trust you. I figured you had your eye out for this job, and I had a tenuous hold on it at best. Am I right?"

Jean didn't know how much he should admit, but he decided to be as honest as he dared. "I was a little wary of you, for various reasons."

Benny chuckled. "Probably good reasons, but I think I've shown that I might be crazy, but I'm not stupid."

"You aren't crazy boss."

"Yes, I am, and I have been since I was about 17 or 18. I threw away my life when I raped the first girl." He sighed and leaned forward in the chair. "You know, I graduated from Northwestern when I was 18, and I was a finalist for the Rhodes Scholarship. Instead I went to prison. I was prescribed medicine a long time ago, and I refused to take it, but Jason Mallster forced me to. Best thing that's ever happened to me. I've been a new man ever since. It helps keep down my unhealthy urges. It doesn't get rid of them, but it does help. I'm saying this to you, Jean, to prove I trust you. I haven't told anybody. I've had Jeff making these pills for me here on site, so no one would know."

Jean twisted his mouth and shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't change a thing for me. I watched Jason run this Organization for years, and I was loyal to him, but we were never as strong as we should have been. You have less to work with than he ever did, but you have earned my respect, and my loyalty. You have put us on a solid footing. I think you are laying out a groundwork to make us much stronger. I can see my role in it, and I'm satisfied and pleased to be working with you."

Benny inhaled and nodded. "I need you. Malcolm and his guys are fanatics. You have to make sure that he's not reckless with our super soldiers. I don't want him to do anything that would compromise any of our future goals. Watch him, and watch them. Keep yourself out of trouble, and report back to me whenever you can."

Jean nodded and stood up. "You've got it. Oh, but one thing", Jean began. He looked over at X-424 who was standing beside him. "She's been specifically requested for the opening of Malcolm's operation."

Jean watched a couple of emotions cross Benny's face, but he finally sighed. "I can't be stingy, but Malcolm better make sure nothing happens to her."

"I'll make sure of it myself", Jean vowed, then left the room. He had to get ready. The chaos was going to start the next day.


There are a few ways to cripple a modern society, and Malcolm and his men had decided to use a 19th century technology to show the people of the 21st century just how vulnerable and fragile their lifestyles really were. Malcolm had his team come to the site in different vehicles spread out around about a square mile. It was sunset, and the light was doing strange things with shadows. He could have done this operation at night, but no. This was the perfect time.

He opened up his disposable cell phone and called Omar, his second in command. "Let's go." Things started moving. Three teams of four got moving. It was a risk using this many super soldiers on one operation, but the reward was most certainly worth the risk. Security at the rail yard was geared towards thieves and vandals, but no one could have prepared for this attack. There were two teams of Femmes and one team of Series 4's. Malcolm had sent the male super soldiers to the smallest of the three targets, but the Femmes were going after the more active ones, once they got by security.

The security guard drove around the massive yard in a pick-up truck. There were only five guards on duty patrolling the rail yard northwest of downtown Atlanta. He was checking the perimeter when he thought he saw something. It was just a flash, and change of shadows, but it made him slow down even more. He shined his light in the area and saw nothing. He kept looking to his left for the source of the movement, and he never saw the Femme come from behind. X-419 popped up from the blind spot behind the truck. She put her hands under the bumper and without the slightest effort, lifted the back of the truck off the ground. The guard turned in his seat, cursing as he felt his vehicle's rear tires rising. He fumbled for his radio, but he never got a chance to use it. The driver side window shattered when X-417 reached through it. She took the guard by the jacket and snatched. She pulled his 200 pounds off the seat and through the window, dislocating his shoulder in the process. She lifted him with one hand and threw him into a ditch. He hit his head on the retaining wall, and cracked his skull. X-419 put the rear of the truck down, and she and X-417 got into the cab. They turned and headed north towards one of the 3 bridges that crossed the river and fed trains to the rail yard.

Across the yard, similar actions played out. A pair of Femmes had overpowered the guards and were making their way towards bridges in another truck. X-424 and X-425 were heading for the center bridge of the rail yard. Benny had been worrying about letting X-424 go on this mission, but he shouldn't have.

X-424 was driving as the last cars of a train clattered into the yard. A couple of men were inspecting another train waiting to be moved when they saw a security truck going towards the bridge. Usually the guard would come over to them and chatted for a while before going back on his rounds, but this time his truck turned away from them. That was odd, but the guys figured that he had something to do, so they got back to their jobs.

Two people got out, but from a distance the men couldn't tell that the two shapes were women. They didn't pay any more attention to the truck or the bridge until they heard the sound of surrendering steel coming from the bridge.

X-424 and X-425 had walked onto the tracks, still warm from the last train. The two Femmes went out about a third of the way and took hold of a length of track. They set their feet, and attempted to stand up. The bolts and clips that held this rail to the ties was strong, but it wasn't going to be strong enough. X-425 was the last Femme made. She was a beautiful blond with a fair complexion and lithe body that masked its great strength. Her face was set as her super muscles strained to the utmost. When her slim body flexed, her muscles seemed to double in size.

X-424's eyes stared off at nothing as she pulled with all the strength in her enhanced muscles. Her body was already athletic to look at, and working hard like this, her muscles popped. Then the first clip that held the rail broke. It snapped and it started a chain reaction. After only a few more seconds the rail came loose from the ties. The heavy length of steel had been welded together, but it was already beginning to bend a little under its own weight as the Femmes began curling it to raise it even higher. X-424's biceps swelled as the track came up. The higher it raised, the more pronounced her peak until a knot of hard dense muscle sat on her upper arm like a living diamond. The two Femmes looked at each other, and set their feet wider apart. Then they tugged. The steel held, but their muscles kept flexing. Super strength surged through their bodies until they reached full power. Their muscles surged and shook as they pulled and the track vibrated until with a crack like a rifle shot, the weld that held the 40 foot long length of rail to the next second failed.

The two rail workers turned and ran towards the sound of tearing steel. X-424 and X-425 had pulled the 40 foot section of steel track completely loose from the ties. X-425 dropped her hold on the steel, and walked to the other rail and got a grip. X-424 held the nearly one ton piece of steel waist high. She set her hands about three feet apart, and then her body erupted. Her biceps and delts flexed so hard so fast that her long sleeves ripped from the top down. Her biceps could not be contained, and her bosom stretched her top to its limits as well. The rail started bending. She was forcing it into a U shape. It should have taken longer to bend hardened steel, but X-424 made the steel surrender to her quickly. The thick track could not resist. X-425 was pulling up on the other rail. Several ties rose off the bed. The anchors that held the ties to the steel of the bridge were breaking loose, and allowing the track to rise even more. X-424 put the end of the newly bent rail under the raised end of the tie. With the added leverage, the two Femmes raised and twisted the tracks and the ties completely off the bed.

The two men came running down the tracks over up the rise of the bridge. "Hey, what the hell is going on here?" X-425 dropped the now twisted and useless rail to the gravel. The first man reached for his radio to call back to the main office, but as his hand touched the device, X-425's hand took his forearm. She squeezed. His bones exploded from the sudden pressure, cracking and exploding into powder. The man was in too much pain to scream. He dropped to his knees in a silent forlorned scream. His partner turned to run. His heart raced in his chest, and he knew that he was running for his life, but he didn't get far. X-424 caught him in a couple of steps. She lifted him off the ground by his shoulder with just one hand. His scapula and clavicle were crushed as she dug her fingers into his shoulder before tossing him off the embankment and down to the river below. He barely missed the rocks below, but with only one working arm, he had a hard time swimming. The Femmes went back to their destruction.

At another bridge, X-419 and X-417 heard the train coming. It didn't matter, they were ready. They had already prepared the tracks for their own special show. It would let everybody know that the party had been started. Malcolm had planned this, and he had entrusted it to these two Femmes. He knew the power and strength in X-417's body. He had taken her to his bed more than once, and he had learned to love the things she could do to him that no woman ever could before. He looked on now through the binoculars at the shapes of her muscles bulge and flex and play. It was as if her body was putting on a show just for him. She did every thing with seduction. He watched as she bent her body down, making her already skin tight pants even tighter. Her round and supple ass was more than phenomenal in those jeans. Her curves were next to impossible, just like her strength. She put her hands onto one of the structural members of the bridge. Her face stared in the direction of the train, and then with the mightiest of displays of pure strength Malcolm had ever seen, she pulled against the rivets that held the bridge to the piers. Her thighs were already the best Malcolm had ever seen. They were thick and hard, but when she dead lifted this weight, her thighs burst the seams of her jeans. Her muscle bulged out outrageously. Her thighs were a living sculpture of iron hard muscle beneath her exquisite ebony skin. Her thighs bulged more and more as she fought against gravity for the control of the bridge. It was her legs against all that weight. It looked impossible, but the groans of the metal proved that she was winning. The men who had built that bridge across the river so many years ago had built it to withstand time and nature, but it had never been designed for this. While X-419 finished twisting and bending the rails, X-417, the Femme with the legs to die for, finished the culmination of Malcolm's plan. Like exploding munitions, the rivets failed. The ends shot off high into the sky as X-417 had defeated them. She controlled all the steel now. Sweat poured down her body, and her muscles had been taxed even past their limits, but she had completed her mission. With everything finished, these two Femmes hurried off the tracks.

The coal train coming down the tracks turned the corner to get onto the bridge and the engineer didn't even notice anything out of the ordinary. He didn't feel anything different until he was almost across. It was there that X-419 had bent the tracks. The train started to turn right and there was nothing the engineer could do to stop it. His locomotive made the hard right turn. The front of the big diesel smashed into the support structure of the trestle. The engineer hoped that it would stop his train. It wasn't moving fast anyway. He was barely going 5 mph, but when the front of the train hit the side of the bridge, the entire structure started over. It just slid off the pier without anything to keep it up. It went over and the train went with it. Hundreds of tons of coal followed. The bridge, locomotives, and cars fell off the bridge like pieces of a toy set. The men in the rail yard tower saw it as it started, but there was nothing that they could do. It all happened, and they knew that it was going to be a disaster.

The Femmes melted into the night, while bedlam reigned in the rail yard. In the span of ten minutes, every serviceable bridge over the Chattahoochee into Atlanta had been cut. There were other routes into the city, but the trains would have to travel hundreds of miles out of the way over substandard tracks. In effect the 6 million people of the Atlanta area, were cut off from the other 240,000 miles of rails in the rest of the country, and it was only going to get worse.


Jan Caufield had just left Gloria Sanchez's house. Gloria's daughter, Lisa, had asked Jan to look in on her mother because Gloria had been a little under the weather. Of course Jan had agreed. Lisa was in Chicago, and it was hard for her to break off from her very successful business, but Jan made time to help Gloria, who has glad to have the aid. It helped that Jan got along so well with Gloria's nephew Simon. Simon was slightly disabled. He was such a sweet person, that Jan had taken to him quickly. He was so full of life, and seemed to be passionate about everything. He had found out from Gloria that Jan was a musician. Ever since then, Simon had been gushing about his own drumming. Jan would smile because Simon didn't even own a drum set. He had donated it to a band who had lost all of their equipment in a fire. He only regretted giving the set away when Jan came to the house. He would pull out his sticks and beat on various things. Jan would humor him. He was so enthusiastic. Jan shook her head as she drove down the street near the airport. She had promised him that the next time she played live, that she would let him play the drums. She would probably regret that down the road.

Jan was thinking of Simon when she pulled into the Office Depot. She had to spend some more money on the most expensive liquid on earth. It wasn't gasoline; it was printer ink. Jan wrote so many papers that she felt sometimes that she was drowning in the stuff. She had promised to get Sara and Alisha some ink too because she had used some of theirs too. So after spending more than a hundred dollars, Jan walked out with her bounty. She shifted the little plastic bag into her left hand so she could reach into the pocket of her long skirt to get her keys. She pushed the button to unlock her doors, then stopped walking. She rolled her eyes and sighed. She didn't need this tonight, but at least she felt normal enough to handle it.

"Agent Miles", Jan called. She opened her car door and tossed the ink inside.

The FBI agent came from his car. "Saw me again?" He had a smile on his face, but Jan wasn't going to let her guard down at all.

"Sure did. We're going to have to stop running into each other like this."

Agent Miles came close and stood across from Jan. His eyes swept up and down her. He had seen her from across the way, but this young woman got more stunning the closer he came. Her long loose skirt only hinted at the shape of her body beneath, but it made her even more sexy. She pushed some hair back and looked at him.

"I heard what happened earlier this week with the guy at the gym."

"You hear about a lot. You keep closer tabs on me than I thought. I had baked chicken for lunch in case you're interested." Jan chuckled.

Agent Miles tried to keep his eyes on Jan's face, and he was doing a good job, but now standing up close like this, with her leaning on the car, he could see down the front of her blouse. The ideal symmetry of her body made it hard for a man's eye to focus on any one aspect of her, but Jan's breast were really nice he noticed. They were soft and round, and enticing. He glanced back to her face and looked her in they eyes. That was usually a good idea when talking to a woman like this, but in her case, just like her other features, Jan's eyes were stunning. The deep blue of her eyes sparkled as the sunlight bounced through the leaves of the trees. They threatened to hypnotize him, so he blinked and laughed.

"No, I'm sure the baked chicken was good, and a lot better for you than the funnel cake I saw you eating the last time we talked."

"I can't eat funnel cake all the time, then it wouldn't be a treat when I did. And since you mentioned talking, why are we talking today?"

"I have a question." He pulled out his notebook. "Where were you last Friday evening?"

"Why do you want to know?" Jan wasn't going to give an inch.

He sighed and tapped his pen to the paper. "I don't trust you, Miss Caufield. I know you're hiding something from me, but I'm willing to let that go. I was asked by a friend from the Chicago Field Office to do some checking around because a case he's working up there might have a Georgia connection. I need to know where you were last Friday night."

Jan could see that Agent Miles was serious, but she wasn't ready to be. "I was at Jonathan's."

Agent Miles started writing. "I need a number, address, and last name if you have one. Can I confirm your presence with this Jonathan?"

Jan threw her head back and laughed. "You must not have a girlfriend."

"Excuse me?"

Jan put her hand on his upper arm. "Yeah, you must be single."

"You didn't answer my question. Can I confirm your presence with this Jonathan fellow?"

Jan laughed again. This time she put her hand over her mouth. "Jonathan's isn't a who. It's a place. A very nice, romantic place. Probably the nicest in town."

Agent Miles' face began to turn red as this girl toyed with him. "Can anybody at this establishment confirm that you were there Friday?"

"Sure can", Jan began. "If I remember correctly, I was wearing my blue cocktail dress. In the sun it sort of matches my eyes, but anyway. I thinks it's so cute, and the guys did too."

Agent Miles had to work at keeping his voice even. This girl was getting on his nerves. He didn't understand why she didn't just tell him what he wanted to know. "What does your dress have to do with my question?"

Jan frowned. "Everything." She looked down and took the hem of her skirt and started to raise it up. She raised it higher and higher as she talked. Her legs went on forever. She looked at Agent Miles through her lashes and said, "You see, my blue dress only comes down this far." Jan had pulled her skirt up so high that almost all of her legs were on display. Agent Miles tried not to look, but he did. This girl had legs better than the women in his dreams. Jan caught him looking, smiled, and batted her lashes. "Every woman has something, and I have these." She glanced down at her legs again. "So you see, that dress helped me get lots of attention in Jonathan's that night. Plus its pretty tight, so tight that even I have to suck in my stomach", she teased because her midriff had not an ounce of fat.

Agent Miles was fuming. This girl was playing him and he had walked into every one of her traps. He was about to walk into another. "I don't care about your dress or how many eyes you had following you. You're a lovely woman to be sure, and that might have helped your through life, but it won't help you with me."

"You're gay!", she blurted quickly. "It's okay if you are. I mean, I think it's great that you're bringing diversity to the Bureau."

Agent Miles face was getting redder by the second, and he had started to sweat. "No, I'm not gay", he clarified through clenched teeth. "And if you don't answer my question, I'm going to arrest you."

Jan made an exaggerated sad face. "So grumpy. What was your question again?"

"Who can confirm where you were last Friday evening?"

Jan tapped her chin and seemed to ponder deeply. "Let me see. I better explain this to you since you don't get out much. Jonathan's features live music in addition to a wonderful menu. Anyway, I perform there a couple of weekends a month. I play the piano, but you probably know that already. And I was performing there last Friday. The entire place saw me because I was on stage, but I guess you need me to be more specific. The mayor of Atlanta was there. The State's Attorney was there, but he catches most of my shows. Oh, I almost forgot, Special Agent MacCallum, your boss was there too, sitting in the front row with his wife. So why don't you go ask any of them where I was last Friday and stop wasting my time."

Jan pulled her car door open and started to get in, but Agent Miles pushed it closed.

Jan threw up her hands. "I answered your question! What more do you want?", she demanded, her frustration coming through.

Agent Miles stepped closer to her. "I want the truth. I want to know why I keep finding evidence of strange things, impossible things. Am I the only person who notices? I'm going to find out what's going on. I want to know what your part in this is. You're hiding something from me, and from the federal government."

Jan held up her hand. "Whoa! Don't get ahead of yourself! You aren't the government. You're just a single misguided FBI guy who doesn't know which way the wind's blowing. I'm not a criminal, nor have I ever been!" Jan's face was angry, and she leaned close to Agent Miles, so close that he leaned back a little.

"If I was a criminal, you wouldn't have a prayer of stopping me anyway", she yelled. "I wouldn't put up with your shit. If I was a criminal, they'd never find any part of you!" Jan put her hands in his face and made a show of pulling them apart. "I'd fucking tear you into little pieces and dump the mess in the river!" Jan was fuming, and it felt great. It was a release, but luckily for this FBI agent, her strength was still nowhere to be found.

The corner's of Agent Miles' lips turned up as he looked at Jan. "So now I see the other side of you."

Jan pushed him away from her. Her arms fully extended, and Agent Miles' back hit the car behind him hard. The smile went away. "You just broke the law", he stated. A serious frown covered his face. "I could arrest you right now!" Agent Miles stepped to Jan, but she stepped forward quickly, catching him in mid stride, making him stumble to get his balance.

"Try it! I'm not even myself, and I'll guarantee that it'll take more than you to get me in handcuffs."

"I'm not a bum at a gym", Agent Miles warned. He was a trained federal agent.

Jan's grin was a challenge. "I took it easy on him."

Agent Miles' hands were only an instant from attempting to restrain this girl, this teenager, when his cell phone rang. It rang once, and he didn't answer it, but by the end of the second ring, his hand was moving towards it.

"Hello." He tried to sound calm, but the emotion was in his voice.

"Miles, you need to get to Bolton Rd. There's been an attack on the rail yard. Don't you monitor the bulletins?"

Agent Miles cleared his throat. "Umm, yes Sir, I do, but I was--"

"I don't care what you were doing. Get your ass up to Bolton! This might be terror related."

"Ye.. Yes sir, I'm on my way now." Agent Miles closed his phone and looked up at Jan, who stood several feet from him with her arms crossed.

"Sounds like someone is in trouble." She smiled at him then.

Agent Miles wanted nothing more than to punch this girl in her beautiful, smug, face, but instead he started towards his vehicle. "This isn't over!", he yelled as he got to his car.

"You're an asshole", Jan told him as she got in her car. He pulled out before she did, and almost hit her bumper. Jan shook her head, and started to her apartment. She took a slow drive from the airport area all the way because she had to let her emotions bleed away. She had no idea that very soon, at the airport itself, there was going to be a lot more blood.


The cargo plane landed without incident. It was carrying a very sensitive and expensive load. Twelve armed police had guarded this load from its origin in Washington DC. The men knew that the stressful part of their mission was just beginning. They had all done this dozens of times, and it should have become routine, but they were trained to make sure it never did. As soon as they let their tasks become routine, they would fail.

The big rear doors of the civilian looking aircraft opened. Four large armored trucks were at the ready, and even more armed guards were there. Some of the bosses would have liked the security for this necessary operation to be more low key, but there was no way to easily transfer several billion dollars of fresh cash for the Southeastern Region of the country. This money was destined for banks all over the region just as soon as it went to the Atlanta Branch of the Federal Reserve. Once it got behind its armored vaults, the money was nearly untouchable, but right there on the tarmac, the money was at its most vulnerable.

Twelve more Treasury Police were stationed outside the plane. Officials from the Bureau of Engraving and Printing kept an eye out as this shipment of currency started moving to the trucks. There were billions of dollars in this single load. This money represented fresh cash for the branches all over the South. That much money was a magnet for trouble, and on this night trouble came.

Everything was quiet until out of the corner of his eye, one of the Treasury Police saw a semi racing towards one of the several fences that ringed this area of the airport. "Oh my God", he breathed and pushed the button on his radio to sound the alert. A moment later, everyone saw and heard the truck. Its big diesel engine roared as the truck bounced over speed bumps and parking barriers. The Peterbuilt crashed through the first layer of chain link fencing without slowing at all, it accelerated. The Treasury police opened fire with the arsenal at their disposal. Automatic fire rang out. Bullets pierced the big grill of the bright red truck, breaking through the radiator, but not even denting the steel block of the engine. The truck was on track to smash into the wheels of the plane, but the Treasury police were prepared for this. As the truck sped through another fence, one of the officers pulled out an FGM-148 missile launcher. The operator put the missile in direct mode and pulled the trigger. Flame and exhaust shot out of the rear of the launcher and the missile left the tube flying straight and true.

The Series 4 who had been driving the truck jumped from the cab as the officer pulled the trigger on the launcher. The missile's flight was short and the impact of the warhead was tremendous. It blew the solidly built truck to pieces. The concussion wave knocked down several men, but it had just begun. The Treasury officers started taking fire from behind the burning wreck of the Peterbuilt. They returned fire, but they couldn't even see what they were shooting at. That was by design.

Jean had added this wrinkle to Malcolm's plan. He was at a power substation with X-424. Jean had promised Benny that he would keep this Femme safe, and this was the safest part of the operation. He was close enough to the fighting to know what was going on. He didn't need a radio call. He knew it was time for the next step. "Ok, do it now", he ordered X-424 in an even tone.

He moved out of the way, and X-424 calmly put her hands under the truck. Her hands worked their way towards the rails of the chassis. The tanker truck was bulky and the oil inside of its tank made the load uneven, but X-424's muscles were up to it. Her calves and delts fired inhumanly fast while she worked to find a grip. Once she had it, she lowered her hips and began straightening her legs. The suspension of the truck squeaked as X-424 started taking the load, but the wheels remained stubbornly on the ground. Her face set, and she took another breath, and Jean saw X-424's body grow in size and power. Muscles surged, bursting and splitting with power as she lifted the 10 ton tanker off the ground. The 2000 gallons of old cooking oil sloshed around in the tank over her head. X-424 raised the truck to shoulder level. Her sleeves were already torn, and Jean had a great view of each of her muscles as they bulged and flexed to defeat this weight.  She worked and strained and willed the truck up.  Her enhanced muscles had not fully recovered from destroying the railroad bridge when she started lifting this truck, but she would not be denied.

With the truck overhead, X-424 took a lumbering step towards the side of the bridge. Then with a mighty yell, and a mighty heave, she threw the truck out over the side. She used every once of power in her enhanced body and sank down to a knee as the truck dropped down off the bridge. X-424 was red faced and gulping air when the stolen truck hit the top of a huge transformer station. Sparks and fire shot high into the air. The oil caused short circuits all over the place, and then it started to burn, making the entire area smell like a fast food restaurant. A moment later the lights went out. Not just the lights of the neighborhood, but half the lights at the airport. Jean smiled when he saw the lights go out where the fire fight was going on. He had done what he set out to do.

He went to a knee and put his arm around X-424's shoulders. "Good job", he said.

She looked up at him. Her face was worn and tired. "Come on up." Jean put his arm under hers and helped the Femme to her feet. She was unsteady. He kept her up, and looked at her again. He had never seen a Femme look anything other than dominate and powerful, but right then X-424 looked... human. "I think I know why Benny likes you so much." He helped her all the way to the getaway car. They had already stayed there long enough.

At the airport, the Treasury police were helpless as the lights went out all around them. They had been blinded by the flash of the exploding truck, and now all they could see was the flaming wreck. They had night vision goggles, but the only thermal image they could see was the burning truck. The enemy was shooting from behind the flames, not giving them a target. They had already called in for support, but it was a few minutes away. None of the men figured that this would last a few minutes.

As soon as the lights went out, the super soldiers started to move. They fanned out and moved to the flanks while several kept shooting through the flames. Once the teams were in position, they opened fire. The Treasury cops had no chance. Bullets came from three directions. All of them wore bullet proof vest, but these shots hit them all over. Some hit the vest while others hit men in arms and legs, or worse, in the head. Two bullets hit the sergeant in the head, killing him instantly. Another man died when a bullet struck his femoral artery. He bled out while his men were trying to reach him. These men were fighting for their lives, but they didn't even have targets to shoot at. It wouldn't have mattered.

X-411 and X-413 came in at an angle with two Series 4's giving them cover and support. With the aid of the blackness, the super soldiers were in the midst of the Treasury police. Rodney Cannedy had only recently become a Treasury police officer. He had started out with the FBI, but as a clerk, he didn't think he was going to move up very far. This job had opened, and he had taken it. Never in his life had he ever regretted an decision more. As he dropped an empty magazine from the bottom of his M-4, he felt something near him. He could hear men around him screaming and cursing as they were wounded by bullets, but then there were the cracks and crashes that silenced men's screams. Rodney slammed home a fresh magazine, and looked for a target, but one found him

A bullet hit him in the center of his chest. It felt like he had been struck in the chest by a hammer. It took his wind, but he kept his hand on his gun. He turned then and saw a woman standing in front of him. She would have been a pretty woman, but she had dead eyes. Rodney tried to raise his weapon, but the woman leaned down and took him by the shoulders. Her fingers burrowed into his flesh, as she lifted him. No woman, no person, was supposed to be this strong. She took her left hand off and used it to snatch away his rifle. She lifted him high and then slammed him to the ground. Rodney felt his bones break when they hit the concrete of the tarmac. There was an explosion of pain as this woman kicked him in the ribs, breaking them and rupturing his organs.

The men were getting desperate now, and three of them jumped into one of the transportation trucks. The engine was started and a man hit the gas. The cab-over truck started off, but it didn't get far. A Series 4 broke off at a sprint towards the fleeing truck. Its super enhanced muscles propelled him very quickly. X-411 took off with him. She ran on the left side of the truck while the Series 4 was on the right. The men didn't even feel the two super soldiers jump onto the back of the truck. They could hear the sounds of gunfire and another explosion but they thought that they were going to be safe. The two super soldiers made their way to the back of the cab. They both put their hands where the cab met the chassis and then their muscles flexed. X-411 was the shortest and stockiest of the Femmes. Unlike X-424 who's muscles were long and lean, X-411's muscles were big and round. Her biceps burst with throbbing unstoppable power as she pulled. There was so much power there that the Series 4 could hardly keep up, but between the two of them, the truck had no chance. The three men in the cab felt as if they were taking off on a rocket. They could hear the breaking up and snapping of the bolts that held the cab to the chassis. They all felt helpless as the two super soldiers dumped the cab off the chassis and onto the ground. It rolled and rolled until hit the side of a hanger and finally stopped.

The rest of the truck was still going, until X-411 jumped to the ground. Her feet hit the pavement, but they just bounced up. The truck was going at least 30 mph, but that didn't deter X-411. Her cute face twisted into a snarl as she put her feet on the ground again. This time she flexed her quads and kept her legs straight. When her shoes hit the pavement, rubber flew... from her soles and from the truck tires. Her upper body blossomed. Muscle flexed atop already swollen muscle as X-411's tight frame overpowered all the momentum of this truck. With just her two hands, this Femme forced the truck to the left and then with one more pull, onto its side. Sparks flew as the side of the truck skidded to a stop along the concrete.

Two of the men in the separated cab of that truck had been injured and were unconscious, but one man was awake. He was upside down and bleeding, but until his dying day he would never forget the sight of X-411's muscles bulging and writhing under her skin as she handled that truck like a toy. His eyes were as big as saucers as he watched X-411 and the Series 4 walk away from the truck back towards the fighting. He guessed that he should have played dead, but he was too afraid to, but it didn't matter. The two pairs of legs walked right past him. He was no threat to them, and he wasn't their mission.

The mission was already complete. The second explosion had been the end. Three super soldiers had torn their way into the hardened containers that held the fresh cash, but they didn't take anything out. They poured gallons and gallons of gasoline into the holes they had made. When everyone was clear, they lit the containers on fire. The heat and pressure inside the containers had made one of them explode. A few charred bills were scattered on the ground, but most of the money burned.

Malcolm cheered from the inside of his control vehicle half a mile away. His driver drove off, and Malcolm got word that all the personnel and all the super soldiers were accounted for and on their way back to their base. This mission couldn't have gone better. Now it was time to let the world know what had happened.


Later that night, Sara, Alisha, and Jan were in their living room. The tv was on, but they were talking to each other more than paying attention to it. Jan had told her friends about her latest trouble with Agent Miles. Sara twisted her face at the mention of his name. Jan saw Sara's face and smiled. She might have disliked Agent Miles more than Jan did herself, but as Jan told the story, Alisha started understand why Sara felt the way she did.

"You know, Jan", Alisha began. "I know you're confrontational, but that guy is obsessed."

"Yeah, I mean somebody with super strength has been on a crime spree. He thinks its me, but this guy has no idea just how many super strong people there are in the world. If he did, maybe he'd cut me some slack. And of course, at the moment, I'm not super strong at all."

Sara and Alisha looked at each other after Jan's last statement. They could tell that not having her super strength was starting to wear on her. At first Jan had thought that her haywire emotions had been the problem, but now her emotions were normal, but her strength was still gone. None of them wanted to even bring up the idea that there might be something permanently wrong with her powers.

To change the subject, Sara turned on to the news. They expected to see the normal stories about a shooting or a robbery followed by a couple of feel good stories before the weather and sports, but on this night it was different. The screen was split. One showed images of railcars hanging off the side of a destroyed bridge, and the other showed an image of a raging fire and evidence of explosions at the airport. The title across the top of the screen read: TERROR IN ATLANTA.

The three girls sat up and looked on with wrapped attention as the reporters tried to explain what had happened. The national and even international media were on the scene now, trying to get the story out. Goods from the north couldn't get to the city, and goods from the ports of Savannah, Jacksonville, and Tampa couldn't get north. The news went on to name some of the goods that could no longer get to Atlanta because of the rail bridges. Most of them had been necessities. The girls were horrified. Then the reporters talked about the attack at the airport. Seven Treasury Police officers had been killed, but the main topic was the money. The shipment of money had been destroyed rather than stolen. The terrorist had simply burned billions and billions in cash. The reporters wondered who had been responsible. Names of people and names of organizations came out of their mouths, but while the newscast was going on, a producer saw a manila folder sitting on his desk.

He was stressed out and his nerves were frayed. He was a newsman, and had to tell the stories to the public, but he was also a family man, and a citizen of this country. He had a live here like everyone else, and these attacks had him shaken, so shaken that he didn't even notice the envelope at first, but his hand hit it. It wasn't sealed so he opened it. Inside was a dvd and a note. It simply read, 'Play this if you want to know what happened.' The producer had an isolated dvd player, and he put this disk in. There was only five minutes of video on the disk, but it was the most important video of his life and of his career. He went back to the control room. The news was live and probably would be all night.

"Play this!", he ordered his techs. "Alert the network guys. Tell them that they have 3 minutes to patch in because we've got the scoop." Three minutes later, the message went out over the air, and millions of eyes saw it, including three super powered girls who were just as scared as everyone else.

A figure, cloaked by shadows, sat calmly before he spoke. You couldn't see his face, but that voice told everyone everything they needed to know. It told them quickly that this man was a native English speaker, probably a North American English speaker, and it also told everyone that this man was serious.

"We are The Revolution, and we have done the deeds that have been all over the news reports. We have cut off rail service to Atlanta, and we have also denied the greedy banks more of their poisoned money. We have shown the government a small part of our capabilities. We feel for the families of any men who have been lost due to our actions, but blood must be spilled in order for change to happen. The families of these lost men much know that their lives will help lay down the foundation to a new order. I also must say to the people of Atlanta and of the United States that our fight is not with you, but instead with the government who crushes its people and destroys people all over the world.

We do not want to kill indiscriminately, but we will show the government that it must either change or be destroyed. Our attack today is to prove to the people that you can not live through this war as if it will not affect you. You must see the truth of our message, and work with us to throw off the yoke of this oppressive regime. If you do not, then what we have done today will seem like fun and games. We have also shown the government that there is nothing that it controls that we can not destroy. You can not even protect your own currency. You will reprint the money and the loss today will not be felt, but know this. Our work today was a warning, but I am sure that it will get worse before it gets better. Our attacks will have to get more emphatic and more personal. I implore all the people of the country to know that this government can not protect you. We are not thousands of miles away, and we do not look different. We are already here. We were born here. We look just like you. We might be your neighbor, or your coworker. You will never know what we will attack, and you can not stop us and we will not give up... Ever."

The news continued, but Jan, Alisha, and Sara could not hear the rest of it. They stared at the screen unable to speak, but finally Jan took a breath. "This is really going to suck."

Malcolm and Benny were sitting alone watching the news as the message had been broadcast. The rest of the guys were out in the common area celebrating, but not these two. They wanted to watch this in the quiet.

"Not bad", Benny told his former cellmate. "You were on top of it. That little message is going to scare 'em all right." Benny drank a little beer and slapped Malcolm on the back.

Malcolm looked over at Benny and nodded. "It only took six takes, but I think we got it right. Thanks again for helping me put it together."

"Like I said, we have to help each other. So now you've started it."

"Yeah", Malcolm began after drinking some beer. "It has most certainly started. I just hope I wasn't too hasty."

Benny chuckled and finished the can. "Getting nerves now?" Benny laughed again, but not Malcolm. The seriousness of what he had just done seemed to hit him all at once.

"I will go through with my plans. I believe in the cause. The attack was more than successful, but you know my man, I feel like I just signed my own death warrant."

Benny was quiet as he opened another beer.

Malcolm broke the silence with nervous laugher. "Come on man, say something."

Benny shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say. You just attacked the entire United States, and usually that ends badly. Blood's going to be spilled Malcolm, and yours might be mixed into the pool. Mine might too, but the message is bigger than the messenger. Right?"

"Of course", Malcolm offered with a smile, but inside he felt doubt, strong doubt.

more coming very soon!!!

Recent Chapters:

Chapter 1      Chapter 2      Chapter 3       Chapter 4      Chapter  5      Chapter 6      Chapter 7      Chapter 8      Chapter 9

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