4F for Freedom!

[Synchronicity]

Bulwark, a heavy hitter in more ways than one!

Bulwark drains his coffee and follows Johnson, staying unusually silent for the garrulous man.

As Johnson finishes what he has to say, Bulwark's familiar easy smile illuminates his face.

"Sir, I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't truly interested in serving this country. Just show me where to sign, and I'll safeguard the freedom and security of the USA with my life."

Bulwark's words are fervent, leaving you in little doubt that the powerfully built man is a stauch patriot. He looks sidelong at Lily as he finishes speaking, and quiestly says something to her.

"Looks like you were holding out on us, miss. Not that I blame ya; I can see how Atlas and I might not inspire confidence, shall we say. Or d'you still have no idea what this is about?"

Having said his piece, Bulwark relapses into silence, looking expectantly at Johnson as he waits for the promised paperwork.

 

[Kevin Perrine]

Mustang Sally

Setting: Port Hueneme, CA, MMD Barracks

Mustang Sally, having already received her briefing from Johnson, sits in her spartan quarters in a hangar hastily converted to a combination barracks and mess hall. A copy of her special enlistment papers sits on the cot next to her. Her thoughts undoubtedly include ruminations about what the future of this unprecedented venture will hold.

Sally'd been in nearly every hangar on the west coast with her dad over the last year, inspecting the newest fighters and the biggest bombers. But this hangar seemed bigger in some way... It was actually all cut up into sections and there was barely room for her "Angel-Wings" hanging from the catwalk above her quarters, but it seemed bigger. Without the flight-harness it took three men to carry it in. The Angel-Wings aren't small but hoisted some 20' off the deck they tend to blend in with the jigsaw of equipment on base.

Sally stared up at the modified P-51's. She'd just shined them this morning when the PO trucked them in for her from the Presidio.
hmmhh, shoulda known the brass knew a little more about the state of dad's Angel-Wings than I thought...

she thought, staring up at her wings through the cracks in hastily constructed barrack roof of her quarters.
It was actually sorta funny... Come-on... "Mustang Sally" it was the stage name that Henry teased her with...
"Say, Sally! I can sees it now... yer name trailin' behind one'a them there new Mustangs purty soon. Yeah! We'll paint it up 'MUSTANG SALLY' up in big pink letters, it'll be right snappy! hehehehe" as he poked fun, tickling her.

She hated it back then... It was only a year and four months since she saw the youngest of her big brothers.
Now... now the name didn't seem so silly, painted in pink on her Angel-Wing.

Thumbing through the military packet, she barely looked at the words... Her eyes couldn't focus tonight, they were all welled up with the tears she'd been holding back since San Francisco. The four tightly folded American flags that had been delivered to her only a few weeks ago were the only things she had to show that she had a family, and that contraption above her was the only thing that truly made her forget that they were all gone.

The Department of War's Metahuman Military Detachment. They said it was strictly voluntary... They said she could help make a difference.

"What would onea the bad guys say if they could see me crying?"
They'd laugh and pass me by as a little girl, she thought... they wouldn't care......

and nothing but the floor could catch her as Sally fell into grief for this one last time...
She hadn't read the briefing packet the military had delivered...
She'd immediately signed her name on the dotted line, she didn't need to know the mission. Uncle SAM didn't need to convince Sally to help America...
Her father and brothers already had.

I love you guys... Sally whispered as she clutched the four flags. T-Minus ... seventy-two hours and counting... as the last tear rolled down her cheek.


God help the Axis...

 

[Velmont]

Lily looks at Bulwark with an innocent looks.

"Well, as I said, I am no more than an acrobat, and anyone who would take the time and the effort to train would be as good as me. But I must confess, I've always been lazy, and I've never really train."

With those last words, a smile appeared on Lily's face.

"Commander, I would at least want to know what kind of mission you are giving us. I doubt my skill would be usefull in an assault against the island, but if you ask something more subtle, I will be your woman."

 

[Mark Chance]

"Commander, I would at least want to know what kind of mission you are giving us. I doubt my skill would be usefull in an assault against the island, but if you ask something more subtle, I will be your woman."

Johnson shakes his head. "Right now, I can't go into too many operational details, but I can tell you this is not an assault mission. We're more concerned with security at a critical military station in the Aleutians."

He lifts a briefcase onto the table, lays it down, opens it, pulls out several glossy black-and-white photographs, sliding them across the table toward Lianne one by one.

"Yes, we have been watching all of you, and we see potential."

The photographs, most somewhat grainy but unmistakably of Lianne, are various shots from her days in the circus, both during performance and practice, as well as more recent pictures of baseball games. One of these includes the time when a pitch went wide and broke a plank in the wooden backstop behind the umpire.

"It may not seem like much to you, ma'am, but your agility and pitching skills are far above the norm, especially for a young lady with no formal training that we know of. Bulwark and Atlas have the muscle, that's to be sure, but it takes more than muscle."

 

[Velmont]

Lianne takes the picture of broken plank. "Yeah, I remember that one. They all said that was my worst throw I ever made, as I would be able to miss such a throw. You should have seen the young lady at the bat. She was intimidated by the strenght of the throw, and she finally miss her chance. One of my best throw, you know. Being the assistant of a knife thrower have some advantage."

She puts down the picture. "If it is not an assault, that's fine with me. I have some people I care enough that are figthing presently. I think, if I can help to end this war and bring them home earlier..." she doesn't finish her sentence, and seems to be lost in her thought for a moment. She looks around and see the people still looking at her.

"Are we staying here of moving?"

 

[Synchronicity]

Bulwark

Bulwark chuckles as Lily said that she never trained, and the smile that has appears on his face remains as he looks over at the photos Johnson skims across the table. Examining the picture under discussion, Bulwark whistles softly.
"That's quite an arm you've got there, miss. I'm sure glad I'm not going to be the one facing it!"

The young man turns his attention back to Johnson and speaks up. He seems uncomfortable about something, watching the Lieutenant carefully.

"Watching us, huh? So I take it you know about...well, no doubt you've read my record. I guess you approached me knowing about that, and I'm grateful for the chance to show that..that I'm a better man than the record would suggest."

Bulwark looks down for a moment, obviously uncomfortable, and when he looks up again, he has the air of a man determined to move the conversation into other areas.

"At any rate, this is going to be..guard duty, of sorts? Making sure the Japs don't take the station and establish a..whatchamacallit..beachhead? Or is that kind of question going into the operational details you don't want to mention at the moment?"

Bulwark nods at Johnson's answer, and then a thought seems to strike him.

"Say..are we it? I mean, calling this group the Metahuman Military Detachment is all well and good, but it isn't just the three of us, is it? I'd have expected there to be more people with skills like ours signing up to defend our country."

 

[Kevin Perrine]

Mustang Sally

"... but it takes more than muscle." -Johnson

Meanwhile...
Setting: Port Hueneme, CA, MMD Barracks - The spartan quarters of young Sally Singer.

Within an hour or so Sally's tears were all cried out, she found herself staring again up through the rafters at her Angel-Wing...
This time on a happier note.
She dreamed of it even when she wasn't "up there", going over loops, dives, neg-G twists... all the manuvers that would send a puddle down most grown men's leg.
But more than the action - it was the little things that she loved most... The cool crisp air, the infinate silence, the way the Earth looked up at her as she would turn the engines off for those scant moments of peaceful freefall.

But Sally's mind is quick to flutter across topics, those freefalls soon turned into thoughts of tanks and bombs and bullets whizzing by the cockpit of a Mustang... Sally hadn't ever been in a fight like that but the images were easily conjured from Russell's letters mixed with the grainy pictures of him standing proud beside his P-51. Russell laid it on thick, his "heroic" style. He made all the dog fights and bomber missions sound glourious like a Flash Gordon comic.

Sally hoped it would be that way. It sure would be scary, she didn't want to have to hurt anyone but Sally knew that for every small step she could make that it could save maybe ten, maybe even a hundred lives on either side of the fight. Then again "'lil Miss Singer" as the PO's used to call her was just a little girl, no combat training, no big muscles... she was barely 5'3" tall what could she do?

"Yeah... what could SHE do" Sally muttered to herself. But there was always an answer... the one her dad gave her back before she could fly...

"Little girl," he said "Muscles don't matter. Strength and Muscles are very very different things. And you, little girl, have strength - I can see it in your eyes shinin' just like your mom's. You're gonna make a difference"

T-Minus ... seventy-one hours and counting...

 

[Mark Chance]

She puts down the picture. "If it is not an assault, that's fine with me. I have some people I care enough that are figthing presently. I think, if I can help to end this war and bring them home earlier..." she doesn't finish her sentence, and seems to be lost in her thought for a moment. She looks around and see the people still looking at her. "Are we staying here or moving?"

Johnson replies, "Once we complete the initial enlistment paperwork and you take your oath of service, you'll have three days to get ready for the move to the Aleutians. Your first stop will be Fort Lewis for a briefing, and then onto the island."

"Watching us, huh? So I take it you know about...well, no doubt you've read my record. I guess you approached me knowing about that, and I'm grateful for the chance to show that..that I'm a better man than the record would suggest."

Bulwark looks down for a moment, obviously uncomfortable, and when he looks up again, he has the air of a man determined to move the conversation into other areas.

"At any rate, this is going to be..guard duty, of sorts? Making sure the Japs don't take the station and establish a..whatchamacallit..beachhead? Or is that kind of question going into the operational details you don't want to mention at the moment?"

Bulwark nods at Johnson's answer, and then a thought seems to strike him.

"Say..are we it? I mean, calling this group the Metahuman Military Detachment is all well and good, but it isn't just the three of us, is it? I'd have expected there to be more people with skills like ours signing up to defend our country."

Johnson nods. "We do indeed know about your past, Bulwark. We know a great deal about ya'll. All classified at the highest levels, of course. Regular military disqualifications are not an issue here. As for your initial duties, I'm not liberty to say right now, except to say that security is a primary concern. As you know, security issues are on the front burner right now. The detention camps, for example." Johnson's expression sours at the mention of the camps set up throughout the western U.S. for detaining Japanese-born Americans. "And you're right, Bulwark. There are more than just you three. We have one other young lady already recruited as part of your squad. Other metahumans squads are being formed, but it's doubtful you'll be meeting them any time soon."

Johnson clears his throat.

"So, then, if there are no further questions, I have some papers for you to sign."

 

[Karl Green]

Atlas

Altas nods his head, steps forward and signs whatever is put in front of him without even looking it over

 

[Synchronicity]

Bulwark

Johnson nods. "We do indeed know about your past, Bulwark. We know a great deal about ya'll. All classified at the highest levels, of course. Regular military disqualifications are not an issue here. As for your initial duties, I'm not liberty to say right now, except to say that security is a primary concern. As you know, security issues are on the front burner right now. The detention camps, for example." Johnson's expression sours at the mention of the camps set up throughout the western U.S. for detaining Japanese-born Americans. "And you're right, Bulwark. There are more than just you three. We have one other young lady already recruited as part of your squad. Other metahumans squads are being formed, but it's doubtful you'll be meeting them any time soon."

Johnson clears his throat.

"So, then, if there are no further questions, I have some papers for you to sign."

Under the mask, Bulwark's eyebrows shoot up at the mention of another woman doing this dangerous work, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"Well, whether we meet them or not, it's nice to know we're not alone is all I can say."

Bulwark takes the papers in question and skims them quickly, not expecting to see anything he'll object to. Having satisfied himself that they are just what Johnson said they are, he signs them quickly, using his real name. After he finishes signing, he moves over to Johnson, speaking to the man in a low voice.

"Uh...sir. I know this could well be dangerous work, and..I take it provisions will be made for our families if we..bite the bullet, so to speak? I know I'm strong and tough, but I'm not such a damn fool as to believe I'm invincible. It's just that I'm the only earner since what happened to Dad, and..I just want to make sure they'll be provided for."

Bulwark looks at Johnson earnestly, the question obviously an important one to the large man.