All Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

The vehicle drove at a steady pace of forty-five miles per hour and the hum of the tires rolling over the asphalt filled the rear cabin and lulled the passengers to a near sleep. As truck drove over its worse enemy, the ever dreadful pothole, it dipped low and bounced back up once the tires hit flat ground. The men were instantly awake and alert gripping their Marine issued M16A2 rifles tightly to their chest. The loose contents piled in the back with them rattled and a small groan informed them that one of their captives was slowly waking from her forced slumber. One of the men, a shady fellow with bright blonde hair and winter sky blue eyes, smiled knowing that the cause of the immense head ache she must be feeling was the butt the rifle he was currently clutching to his chest like a long lost lover. He felt more gratified that she was in pain considering she was the cause of his now visibly swollen and broken nose.

Another bump, this one less violent than the first, and her eyes shot open revealing her honey-brown eyes. Those eyes quickly glanced about her, her mind frantically trying to recall where she was and how she had ended up there. Strands of her dark brown hair were plastered to her face from the film of sweat that covered her entire body and her hands were restrained behind her back, the metal of the cuffs biting into her tender flesh. Her mouth was dry as a desert and her head pounding as if someone was repeatedly hitting it with a hammer.

With much effort she sat up from her side so she could get a better understanding of her surroundings. A quick glance around the small cabin told her that she was in a military vehicle of some sorts. From her experience she guessed it to be an armored truck of some sort. Not recognizing the interior, she guessed it to be new. Shifting her eyes to the right she spotted six men and judging by their weapons and uniform, digital camouflage, they were Marines. One had a smirk on his face though his nose was black and purple with some white medical tape securely placed on it. She showed no emotion but on the inside she was laughing her ass off. That’s what he gets for not hitting her hard enough the first time.

Her eyes shifted to the left and three more men sat with their rifles in their laps. They seemed a little more relaxed then the first three she looked at. Those three men were too relaxed and too comfortable after witnessing what they just had. One of them had eyes wide as saucers and she guessed he was in shock, him being much younger than the others and less experienced with the situation he had been thrown in. Empty seats and a few grave looks told her that some had died that night. Most likely the reason that the young one looked scared shitless.

Never moving her head her eyes moved to the front of her. There she spotted the reasons why she was in her current predicament. Two dead, one still alive and breathing. The two dead creatures were of the same species. Both black as night with a cranium that extended back a good two feet and no eyes. They were both were at least seven feet in length and their whip like tails, a wicked looking point at the end of them, made them even longer. Their talons were curled in a position that was could only be accomplished from a complete relaxation or death. Their mouths were slightly agape showing off rows of pearly white razor sharp teeth. She had seen the creatures only once before and had hoped to never see them again. Not in action, at least.

The third creature was strapped tightly down to a table that barely contained its large frame, and its chest rose and fell deeply in a rhythmic pattern that conveyed sleep. It had to be at least seven feet tall, maybe taller. A silver mask covered its face and armor of the same metallic look was placed in strategic locations on its body. From the horrible lighting in the cabin she could see its skin color was a dark green and appeared to have the same sleek look that snakes have. It even had small black spots across its flesh similar to what some reptiles had. From what she could see of it, the creature’s physique was strong, and unnaturally so. It appeared to now an ounce of fat on its large body. Staring at it made her recall the events that had led her to be in the current state she was in.

She had been sitting on her couch watching the ten o’clock news in her pjs, a black tank top and matching shorts, when she heard scratching at her door. Brushing it off as her neighbor’s dog getting loose again she ignored the sound. When something heavy smacked, against the door, making her jump out of her seat, she realized that it was not Puggy. Her heart had started to race and fear drove her to get as far away from the door as possible and that’s what she did. She ran in the direction toward her bedroom, the only place she deemed safe enough to go.

Before she had even reached the room the sound of her front door being smashed open filled the small hallway she was in. A shriek followed closely behind it and then a deafening roar. Her heart along with her body stopped dead in the short hallway she had been rushing through. She did not like the sound of those sounds. They were not human and not human meant dangerous.

She had a quick thought of going back into the room to see what could make such noises, but fear momentarily kept her in place. Curiosity and fear fought over dominance of her body and curiosity won over. She quickly found herself tiptoeing back to the living room.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she berated herself as she continued forward. She repeated the words over and over again as if they were some sort of chant that would magically rid herself of the human curiosity that plagued her. It didn’t stop her ever forward moving body and she peeked her head around the corner once she reached the end of the hallway. What she saw, her mind could not register. What it did register was a large bulking creature standing over the carcass of a black creature she was somewhat familiar with. “Oh my God,” she inhaled sharply and the still standing creature whipped its head around to face her its hair, styled in dreadlocks, clicked as the metal pieces tied into it hit each other. “You have the biggest legs I’ve ever seen.” A stupid thing to say but it had come out of her mouth before she even thought about it. Already in her mind she had dubbed the creature Trunks considering the size of its legs was consistent to the size of some tree trunks.

Its head tilted to the side as she spoke, regarding her in mild curiosity. As its head moved up and down while it was studying her the overhead light reflected off of the silver mask it was wearing. Once it was done studying her it turned away and flipped open a device that was attached to its wrist, deeming her not worthy of its attention.

A low hiss at her back forced her attention on the creature before her to waver and she slowly turned around. She was met with a row of sharp teeth and a mouth dripping with saliva that landed on the floor with a plop. Startled, a scream left her mouth and she fell backwards at an attempt to get away from the thing. In a blink of an eye the thing was now decorating her wall with a shuriken in its center. Its green blood dripped onto the floor causing the area where it landed started to smoke and hiss.

With a few long strides, Trunks, walked over to the creature and retrieved his weapon. His sex was unknown to her but she guessed him male solely for the reason she had not met many females with his body shape. With how large he was, there was no possible way he could be female. Besides, he seemed to be lacking some parts that would qualify him as female. Unless the sexes of his race were not as visibly distinguished as the human’s sexes were.

Slowly as possible she stood, hoping that the creature before her didn’t decide to use the shuriken on her as well. Running away did not seem like the ideal thing to do considering his legs were much longer than hers and he would probably be able to catch up to her in a few strides. Besides running, she couldn’t think of anything else to do. So, she just stood there, gawking at his back which, to human standards, was well toned.

While she had been gawking at the well sculpted back she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. Her head had snapped to look behind her and she was startled to see a human male behind her, the butt of his gun poised and ready to strike her again. Before he got the chance her reflexes kicked in. Pulling back her arm and balling her hand into a fist she quickly landed a punch on his nose. His head had snapped back and a loud roar caught her attention. She turned to see several men standing around Trunks, all having their guns trained on him. Figuring he could take them, she turned back to the man she had hit. Her head had only made it half way before the butt of the gun fell against it once again, this time succeeding in knocking her out, as the user had intended the first time around.

The hum of the tires went into a decrescendo, putting a stop to her reminiscing, and signaling that they were slowly coming to a stop. Great. Just great. Her journey was coming to an end with her destination unknown to her. These soldiers might as well just put their guns to her head and open fire. She was sure that was how it was going to end for her anyways. With the people that had captured her, death was imminent. It would be more humane if they just ended her there, but no one ever said the military was humane.

Though self pity was threatening to crash over her, just one glance at the creature she dubbed Trunks washed it all the way. He would have it worse than she would. He would most likely be dissected just to see how he ticks, most likely alive and conscious throughout most of the procedure. Anyone with a brain could see that he was not from their world, and humans like to dissect things that were not their own. Hell, they liked to dissect thing that were human if it led to something interesting. And if the military was involved, as it obviously was, then he would be subjected to many rigorous experiments to see what he could do before they decided to chop him into tiny pieces and gaze through them under the scrutinous eye of a microscope. There was no telling how long they would make him suffer before they put him out of his misery. Poor bastard.

The truck lurched to a stop and several breaths later, the rear was being opened up. The hatch opened up with a groan that only metal could accomplish. A shadowed figured stood in the now gapping hole where the hatched used to reside. “Well, well, well,” a cringingly familiar voice started, “looks like we got two birds with one stone, boys. A living monster and an AWOL soldier.”

She snorted. “I highly doubt this guy,” she indicated to Trunks with her head, “is as monstrous as you are, Mark.”

Ignoring her Mark looked to the six men in the cabin. “Bring ‘em in.” Each man quickly jumped to their feet and did as their superior told them. One man yanked her to her feet dragging her toward the open hatch while the rest wheeled Trunks out after them. The two carcasses were left in the cabin, they not having the ability to move. A small smile graced her lips when she noticed how much trouble the men were having with moving Trunks. The displacement of his body on the table was awkward making it harder for the men to control the table. His weight had nothing to do with it, but his height did. Trunks’ legs hung off the edge of the cart and every time that they tried to wheel him in one direction, his legs moved forcing the cart to go the opposite.

In her amusement of their troubles she never realized that she slowed down until the man escorting her gave her arm a hard tug forcing her forward. “You know,” she glared at the man, “if you keep manhandling me like this I’m going to have to show you how a woman handles things.”

The man scoffed. “What are you going to do? Cook for me?”

She gritted her teeth hard, eyes narrowing into thin slits. Sexist bastards pissed her off more than anything, and she had had enough of them in basic training and in the field. She then turned away from the man, a smirk on her face. “The way to a man’s heart is his stomach. Stab and then thrust upward.”

“You sound like my ex.”

“Keep silent, soldier!” Mark’s loud barking voice commanded, cutting her off before she could retort.

The soldier did as he was told and kept his mouth shut the rest of the time that they walked. Up ahead of them a large white building loomed. Considering the direction that they were headed in she could only guess that was their destination. A military research facility. She could tell that much. She had been to plenty of them growing up as a child. Her mother was a scientist enrolled by the government and her father was a soldier that had earned his right to work closely with the scientists. That was how they met. Such a loving story that sickened her to no end. Too bad it ended in a divorce so bitter, neither her mother nor father spoke to each other and refused any contact whatsoever.

Before they reached the entrance to the building they were stopped by a man she did not want to see. He glared down at her with his all too familiar eyes. “Jack,” he sharply nodded to her.

“General,” Jack answered dully.

General Evans tilted his head to the side. “Are you ever going to call me ‘dad’?”

“Are you ever going to act like one?” she shot back. The man was a lot older then what she remembered. His hair was nearly fully gray and wrinkles were prominent on his face, especially the ones on his forehead. The brown eyes that she had inherited from him seemed dull now in comparison to the life filled ones she had seen six years ago, the last time she had seen him.

When he did not answer her question she scoffed. “Didn’t think so.”

Mark stepped forward from somewhere behind her. “General Evans sir, the city has been overrun.”

The General nodded his head once in acknowledgement. “Cleanse it.” Two simple words that sent Jack’s heart pounding. She knew what that meant; everyone knew what that meant from the uncomfortable shifting that was going around.

“You son of a bitch,” she hissed at her father. “You’re the one that released those things.” It was not a question but a statement of fact. It had been him that first introduced her to those creatures. Xenomorphs he had called them. More like freaks of nature she had thought then. The black thing had been dead just like the two that were still in the cabin of the truck, being dissected by one of the many scientists in the room. She remembered clearly that they had to keep switching out scalpels since the xenomorphs acidic blood kept melting them.

The General shrugged. “Maybe we did, maybe we didn’t. It doesn’t matter now. All evidence will be gone in a matter of minutes.”

Jack stared at her father incredulously. She almost couldn’t believe it, almost. It was exactly something the military and government would do. They would do just about anything to get their slimy hands on something that was deemed worthy of their attention and could be used to further enhance their military status. “You knew I was there, didn’t you?” she asked the man.

“No. You were just a plus.” He glanced at the man that had a firm hold on her upper arm. “Take her into one of the holding cells.”

“Sir, if I may,” Mark cut in before the order could be carried out. The General gave him a curt nod, telling him to proceed. “I think we should stick her in the tank with this thing.” He indicated to the still unconscious Trunks. “For what she has done, she’ll be sentenced to death anyways. At least we’ll get a good show out of it this way.”

Hm, she thought to herself, I guess he’s still a little sore about me killing his brother. Maybe if the guy wasn’t such a douche bag and kept his gun pointed in the right direction, I wouldn’t have had to do it.

“I see your thirst for revenge hasn’t lessened over the years,” the General said to Mark. “Fine, put her in the tank with it. If it does not kill her, we can at least learn something about it.”

Humph, like she would ever help them. Even if she did learn something about Trunks, she wouldn’t tell them. Besides, she was almost positive that the walking hunk of muscle didn’t understand a damn word she said. If he did, he would have laughed at what she had said. Instead he had tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy does. Whatever, at least she knew she was going to live. If Trunks had wanted to kill her, he would have done so back at her home. Or, he would have just let the black creature finish the job for him. Of course, Jack wasn’t going to tell them that. Let them think they’re sending her to her doom. Let their hopes be the ones that are crushed.

The man escorting her tugged roughly on her arm forcing her forward once again. “So,” he started once they were a good distance away from the General, “your name’s Jack?” The laughter he was holding in could be clearly heard in his voice.

Jack rolled her eyes high in her head. She got this a lot. “Yeah, and no, it’s not short for anything either. I have a twin brother and somehow our names got switched on the birth certificates. His name’s Ashley,” she explained. “At least his name was a unisex name. I got stuck with a purely male name.” The man snickered at her, trying his best to keep it together. “Keep laughing and I’ll make myself a new coin purse.”

“Ha, I don’t see how you could with your hands cuffed together.”

“I have my ways.”

Several turns later and Jack was uncuffed and tossed into a rather small room with gray walls, ceiling and bed which didn’t look large enough for her so there was no way it was big enough for Trunks. From the looks of the tiny space, Trunks would hardly have any space to move. The ceiling was high enough to where he could fully stand, but moving around would present a problem. This was unfortunate for her as well. If Trunks did prove to be dangerous, she would have no where to run and hide. The only place possible for such a thing was the bathroom, but from the looks of the flimsy metal door, it would not be ideal either. At least in the small space she might have an advantage. Might. It all depended on how fast the big guy was. From his bulk, he appeared slow. But considering how fast he threw that shuriken and reclaimed it, she could be in some serious trouble.

While the soldiers were trying to move Trunks from the table that he was passed out on to the bed, Jack took the time to study the room. There was only one exit, which was the door they had entered through and it looked pretty solid. There was no handle on the inside and no windows either. Which means that the door would have to be opened for feeding time. If there was a chance for escape, that would be the time to do so.

The camera that sat in one of the corners was a fake, but she knew that they were going to be constantly monitored by other, much smaller, camera that were placed in different places about the room. Their chances of escape dropped dramatically. Someone in the surveillance room would trigger the alarm before they could even step one foot out of the door. There were many guns between there and the exit. Many guns and even more ammo. Chances of survival were cut seventy-five percent.

Grunts and huffs tore Jack from her thoughts and she gazed at the three men trying to heft Trunks from one bed to the other. It took much effort, but they finally got him on it. “Goddamn, this guy’s heavy!” one of them exclaimed.

A smirk crossed Jack’s face and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you presume he’s male?” she asked the soldier.

“I don’t know how many women you have come into contact with, but all the ones I have didn’t have a bulge.”

“I’ve met some women with bulges,” one of the other men admitted. The first soldier looked at him with eyes wide in horror. “What?! I grew up in Vegas.”

Mark came into the room with a smug look on his face. Jack decided to wipe it clean. “Mark knows all about women with bulges, don’t cha?” The three men tried their best to hold in their laughter, but it was a lot harder than they thought it would be. “What was her name, Mark? Wasn’t it Alexis? The way her Adam’s apple was bouncing around I’m sure it was really Alex.” One man guffawed earning him a death glare from Mark.

“Clear out,” he commanded. The men, always ones to obey, instantly did, their laughter echoing in the halls, leaving him and Jack alone along with the unconscious Trunks. If looks could kill, she would drop dead with the one he was giving her. “I hope your death is as painful as my brother’s.”

“Happy to see you too, Mark.” She smirked. “I know I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about your secret, but I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Burn in hell, bitch.”

“I’ll see you there. We’ll have a nice little hot tub party with your brother.” Trunks stirred which prompted Mark to leave the room, but not before he flashed Jack a wicked smile. “Sadistic bastard,” she muttered under her breath knowing full well that he would go straight to the surveillance room and watch her death. He would probably make recordings of it just so he could watch it over and over again. “He’d probably jack off to it, the sick prick.”

Trunks sat up swiftly causing Jack to jump. The muscles in his body were taut and his breathing heavy. He was ready for a fight and possibly looking for one. Taking his size into consideration, Jack knew that she would not win against him. His reach was much longer than hers and if a fight did break out, she would be force to get close to him which is something that she did not want to do. Getting close to him made it easier for him to grab her and crush her with his arms. Sounded like a painful way to die and a way she did not want to go out.

A tingle of fear crept through her when he stood and she slowly, and unknowingly, backed up to the wall. The movement seemed to gain his attention and his head whipped in her direction. Once again he did the curious puppy head tilt and trilled softly. The first thought that entered her mind was how strange of a noise that was coming from something his size. The second one was ‘oh shit, he’s looking at me’.

When her back hit the wall she slid down it and his attention on her waivered. It turned onto the room and he did not like what he saw. Every living being capable of thought knows when it has been caught. His back arched and a deafening roar filled the room. Jack’s eyes snapped shut and she covered her ears in hopes of blocking out the sound but only succeeded in muffling it. There was a short silence, and then a metallic groan replaced the roar. Jack’s eyes opened and she watched in wonder and horror as he lifted the bed that was cemented down to the floor and threw it against the wall where the door sat.

Trunks’ breathing was even heavier than when he first woke, and she doubted it was from the strain of him ripping the bed from the floor. Methodically, his hands opened and closed into fist repeatedly. When his head snapped in her general direction, Jack crawled into the closest corner. Three quick strides and he was standing before her, the reasons for his nickname stopping mere inches from her face. Thinking he was going to kick her, she closed her eyes and awaited the blow that would definitely end her life. Instead he reached up, ripped the camera that she didn’t know she was sitting under from the wall and tossed it at the door. A quick check around the room told him that it was the only one.

Slowly, Jack opened her honey-brown eyes and saw that he had backed away from her a bit. He was glancing down at his wrist. The object he had been tinkering with before was gone. In fact, most of his stuff was gone. The only things that remained were his armor and his mask. She guessed that they let him keep those because either they thought it was sustaining his life or they just couldn’t figure out a way to remove it. The latter is what she concluded was the correct choice rather than the former. Marines weren’t known for their thinking ability. It was why they were referred to as ‘Jarheads’. People said it was because of the standard issued haircut, but she believed it was because their heads were as empty as jars. Blindly following orders, never questioning them. Semper fidelis: always faithful and would be until the end. Well, some of them at least.

With a few chatters and click Trunks looked up at her and pointed to his wrist. He was obviously inquiring as to where his wrist thingy went. She may not be able to understand what he was saying but by his gestures she could guess. “I don’t know,” she told him standing up and shrugged her shoulders in case he did not understand her words. A low growl rumbled in his throat and he started to chatter away at her once again. “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she told him flatly. But he continued to chatter on ignoring her. Aggravation started to rear its ugly and she soon found herself glaring at him. “I said I don’t understand!” she screamed stamping her foot on the ground like a two year old throwing a tantrum. Her arms folded across her chest. “If you want to talk to me, learn some fucking English!”

A loud bark cut across the room and Jack jumped at the sound of it. It appears that she was not the only one that was getting frustrated. Jack may not know anything about Trunks’ kind, but from a human point of view, he looked like he was seething. The mask was still covering his face but she was pretty sure that he was glaring at her. So, in turn, she glared back. She wasn’t going to stand there and let him intimidate her, though he was pretty damn intimidating. He stood a good three feet above her and had to hunch down to look her in the face. She, in turn, had to lean back for her gaze to reach his eyes. They both stood like that for several minutes staring each other down, seeing who would be the first to look away and admit defeat.

Much to her dismay, Jack was the first to look down. As much as she hated losing she had to look down, it was starting hurt her neck to keep looking up at him and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. “Look,” she whispered, “we’re both in the same situation. And I’m stuck here until either you kill me or they do. So, we might as well get used to each other.”

As Jack walked forward Trunks moved to the side to let her pass. Using deliberately slow movement, so not to set him off, she grabbed the mattress from off the destroyed bed and pulled it to the center of the room. Once it was in place she lay down on top of it and readied herself for sleep. “If you don’t mind,” she turned her head so that she could look at him, “I’m going to sleep. I’ve had enough excitement for one night and it wore me out. Night.” She rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes. It was hard to fall asleep with the lights on, but she managed to do so shortly after her eyes had shut.

With his head tilted to the side B’rasch studied the female’s sleeping form for a minute. Deciding the ooman was nothing of interest; he sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall behind him facing the door. The door was the only chance of escape he had and he would watch it until it opened. After that, he planned to find his weaponry and his wrist console so that he could escape and destroy all evidence of him ever being there. He would jump on his ship and head back home where his awaiting clansmen would laugh at him for being caught.

That is, if he ever got out. The oomans that captured him had seemed to be waiting for him. How they had ever gotten information of his kind was lost on him. It was essential that the yautja kept themselves unknown and were trained from a young age to do so. Someone that had come into contact with one of his kind must have escaped death and informed others. There was no other solution he could come up with. It was the most logical answer.

The female whimpered in her sleep and his attention turned toward her. She must have been having a bad dream because she mumbled meaningless words and her body scrunched up forming a ball. Her heat signature changed and the scent of sweat filled the room. The scent of sweat and fear.

B’rasch’s attention turned back to the door. The female was none of his concern. She had gotten herself caught and she could escape on her own as well. He was not going to mix himself up in ooman matters. There was enough on his plate as it was. With patience, he was going to watch the door until it opened and he could leave. That was all he could do, sit and wait.

*** *** ***

Sighing General Evans looked to his men. “It looks like we bit off more than we can chew, boys.” He was referring to the creature ripping the bed from the ground and chucking it at the door like it weighed nothing more then a baseball. He was pleasantly surprised when the thing did not kill his daughter. Even more so when it did not react to her anger.

The relationship between the General and his daughter had always been rocky. She was just too much like her mother. Both of them held a firm belief that innocent lives should always be spared and wars should only be between the military and civilians should be kept out of it. What neither of them realized was, not everyone was innocent and shit happens. Innocents died all the time for the advancements of the military. Who cares if a few citizens died as long as it showed military prowess. It would, in turn, be better for the country as a whole. Stronger military means more power and the more other countries feared you. It’s not like the US were the only ones trying any means to make themselves climb higher on the power ladder.

Unfortunately, his son felt the same as the other two. “You’re really going to keep her in there after you’ve witnessed what that thing can do?” Ashley asked his father still staring at the monitor that streamed live footage from the room from one of the many hidden cameras. The one the creature had torn from the wall had been for show, to see how savvy he was to human technology, which it seemed to have a basic knowledge of.

“I do,” the older man admitted.

“This is wrong,” proclaimed the son. “She should be brought forward to a jury and a judge should decide on her sentences. It’s not your right to condemn her to death, no matter what she did or who she murdered.” Ashley knew that his father had felt that Jacob, Mark’s brother, was more of a son then he was.

“There would be too many questions surrounding her capture. I was left with no other choice.”

“What if it doesn’t kill her?”

“We’ll have her extract some useful information from it. Then I’ll kill her.”

A humorless smile crossed Ashley’s face, knowing that would be his father’s answer. “That is, if you can.”

The General did not like the tone his son was using. It implied that he would let his emotions get the best of him and in that time of weakness he would not be able to pull the trigger. He glared down at the young male, his white lab coat the only bright object in the room. “Are you implying that I would let my emotions get the best of me?”

“Oh no,” answered Ashley, swiveling his chair so he could face the man he called ‘father’, “I’m not implying that at all. All of us know that you would do it and could care less about it. I was implying that she wouldn’t let you. Jack would try to kill you first and, like you, feel nothing about it.” He rested his elbow on the control console and his pointy chin fit itself perfectly in the cup of his hand. “When she hates someone, Jack hates them with everything she has. She’ll empty a clip into your head just to make sure you were dead.”

The General scoffed. Jack was weak. She didn’t have it in her to kill him. She didn’t have it in her to kill anyone and he conveyed these thoughts to his smug looking son. “She did kill Jacob,” Ashley pointed out to his father.”Used her knife and made a Pez-dispenser out of him. I think she might want to do the same to you. In fact,” Ashley started as he stood from his seat, “I know she does.” He walked past his father making sure to bump shoulders with him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the General asked.

“I’m going to see my sister.” The General opened his mouth to protest but Ashley cut him off. “You have no rule over me, General.” Emphasizing the word ‘General’ let the older male know that at the moment, he was not his father. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I’m a scientist and have free range on where I go. It states as much in my contract. If you don’t believe me, go give it a read. You might find it educational. Not that you’d understand a damn word of it.”

With that he was gone, leaving a seething General in his wake and a few snickering males. General Evans quickly turned his attention to those males. “Get back to work!” he bellowed at them his loud booming voice too big for the room to contain it and it drifted down the hallway in quiet echoes as if, they too, were mocking him.

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So, this is my first Predator fanfic. I've done tons of research on it and am trying my best to get this right. If you notice a mistake or have any useful information, please let me know. I would greatly appreciate any help I can get. I really want to get this right. Any offhand information or links to sites on this subject, go ahead and leave them in the review section. I'll love you all forever for it. :)

On another note, I know my grammar sucks. If any of you Grammar Nazis want to point out my mistakes, feel free to. I'll do my best to correct those as we go along.

Thanks so very much. Reviews and rates would be awesome.