Chapter 210

During breakfast in the dining room, Diana stood and tapped a spoon on her orange juice glass. When the room quieted, "Most of you already know, but for the ones who don't, Frank, Margaret, Tina, Bill, Kathy and Jill will be back from the island this morning. Margaret called me late yesterday from their hotel suite in Los Angeles. She said they were anxious to get home and would leave really early for the last leg of their trip back. I would appreciate it if all of those of us who will be here this morning could meet the helicopter to welcome their arrival. I think that would be a nice gesture to show that we've missed them."

Dave motioned with a hand to attract her attention. "Be sure to tell them that Evie and I won't be here because we have a meeting scheduled with the owners of the ski lodge we're in the process of purchasing, but we'll be back as soon as we can."

"You know where Kayla, Art and I will be, Mom," Arlene responded. "I'll be anxious to see them this afternoon – if I can still walk," she finished in a quieter voice, but she worried that her little aside might be more accurate than funny.

As Diana sat and the various conversations resumed, Art spoke to Arlene. "We didn't do anything physical yesterday, so I have no real idea what the Sergeant has planned for us, but I suspect I'll be the one straggling behind. Yesterday morning on the road was an eye-opener, and I haven't done any calisthenics since I was a rookie agent at Quantico."

After the meal, Arlene was assisting with cleanup as usual when the AI announced that one of Security's vehicles was coming up the driveway. Diana reached out to take a stack of plates from her daughter. "Go," she said, kissing the young Queen on the cheek, then whispered in her ear, "Make us proud."

"Do my best, Mom."

As Arlene turned, she almost bumped into Jeff, who reached out to lightly grasp her shoulders, bringing his face a little closer to hers. "Be calm. Think, and pay close attention to the Sergeant. He's an expert. He won't give you more than you're capable of, but he'll push you. Sarge says Kayla is doing great, so listen to her as well. And remember, you're not out there to try out for my team, just to learn the basics and get a little physical conditioning behind you." Kissing her tenderly, he continued with a grin, "You might have become just a wee bit spoiled by how easy things come for you because of that brilliant mind and perfect body. But this training is designed to challenge smart people with perfect bodies, so don't be discouraged when things aren't as easy as you're used to. Just hang in there and tough it out."

Arlene grabbed her husband's face, said, "Thanks, Daddy," kissed him hard, and hurried out the door. Near the back, she met up with Kayla and Art, Kayla already dressed in battle fatigues. As Arlene reached for her coat, Kayla interrupted with, "You won't need that today, since Security is picking us up at the door. The two of you will be fitted with fatigues this morning. With a battle helmet in place, gloves and boots, your fatigues will maintain the proper temperature for your body even under adverse conditions."

"I knew they could do that," Arlene said, "I guess I just didn't think about being issued an outfit. I know that Daddy said they were expensive."

Kayla grinned at her. "Yeah, they are expensive. And along those lines, you're one of Colonel Matthews' wives. Be careful what you say in front of any of those people. Although they try to treat us like everyone else, I suspect that we might very well cause problems if we gripe too much or wish for something not everyone has access to. Jeff carries one heck of a lot of clout with them. He has only one person senior to him at the base, and that's the General. Heck, the Security people are here because of our husband. They're all volunteers, and from what I hear, almost everyone at the base volunteered for the security mission. It's an extreme honor to be chosen to guard our husband. Their loyalty to him is astonishing, and that's just Security.

"His team is on another level entirely. As I've told you before, in combat, the team acted as if they were one individual. No matter how many times I try, I can't come close to conveying what they did in Atlanta, and to see them on the range is almost as astonishing. So far, it's just been Sarge and an assistant training me, and I hope the classes will remain small. It's a whole lot less embarrassing that way. With the two of you there, it will be even better. I'll have a couple of other newbies to share the embarrassment with."

"Oh, crap," Art sighed, "Now you have me really worried."

When Security's SUV stopped near the back steps, Kayla pushed the back door of the Retreat open. "Let's do it."

Arlene, like Kayla, had worn a sports bra under her top. Now all three people were dressed in their issued gray tee-shirts and matching shorts, with tennis shoes completing their ensemble. After stretching exercises, they warmed up with side straddle hops, then went to knee bends – only the Sergeant's knee bends had a twist. While in the down position, he introduced a calf raise (rising up on their toes for a two second count) to the exercise, making it far, far harder to do. Then came the leg raises where the two women fairly stomped Art. Oh, his legs were certainly stronger – and longer, and more muscled, thus weighing more, with the length producing more leverage for that weight to help gravity fight against those muscles as the four held their legs suspended above the floor while lying on their backs.

As Arlene lay on her back with her legs raised forty-five degrees in the air, waiting for the Sergeant to drop his legs back to the floor so she could, she risked a glance beside her. Art had beads of sweat on his forehead and sweat running down his cheeks. Instead of letting them drop their legs back, Higgins told them to scissor their legs outward and hold that position. After thirty seconds, he allowed them to return their legs inward until they were again touching, then ten seconds later, let them return their legs to the floor for a few seconds.

Long before they were allowed to return their legs to the floor, Art was not only trembling, but was shaking with strain – but he never put his legs down until the Sergeant allowed them to. Then they did it again, over and over.

Sergeant Higgins, of course, did the exercise along with the others; his legs rose perfectly and remained rock-steady throughout the exercise. When they were finally done with leg raises, then came push-ups – real military style push-ups, with chests briefly touching the floor on the down stroke and back rigid and level throughout. Anything that wasn't perfect didn't count. Arlene had done push-ups with her father since she was big enough to do them, and he had insisted that she do them properly. She tied Art with forty, while Kayla struggled through twenty.

The Sergeant, having expected Arlene to ask about female push-ups, was quietly pleased when she had dropped into position and began flawless military push-ups. Kayla had not been part of a unit, but there were still physical qualifications for off-world explorers, so he knew she would be familiar with the proper procedure, and she was, but had not yet developed the strength Arlene had.

Sit-ups: knees bent at a forty-five degree angle, heels firmly on the floor, hands locked behind the head – Art knocked out fifty in slightly over a minute, while Arlene and Kayla struggled through fifty in just under two minutes. Higgins didn't visibly react, but inwardly, he was amazed at the teenager who he thought would have been soft, and might have been a prima donna because of being rich and the daughter of his Colonel. He had led Kayla through a couple of workouts before, and knew her limits, but he would expand those limits as well as that of the others, should he have the opportunity.

After the "mild" hour workout, he allowed them a five-minute break before he sent Art and Arlene to be fitted for battle fatigues.

An hour later, their sizes sent off to the base, and now approximately fitted in their temporary Mark 12 battle fatigues, their Mark 8 boots, and their Mark 21 ultra thin gloves, Art, Kayla and Arlene followed the Sergeant down the hallway. Arlene, nearest the Sergeant, asked, trying to joke, "Does everything have a Mark something preceding its name?" but she was half-serious.

Joke or not, Sergeant Higgins took her seriously, and responded accordingly. "After the techs declare a piece of equipment ready, the Colonel's team, if they're on-planet, is generally the first to test the item in the field. One of the main objectives of the portal is to bring back new technology. In the beginning, there was sometimes an improvement almost finished in the labs before the testing was complete on the previous version in the field. The resulting confusion soon led to labeling each stage of improvement with a Mark number. Now with Security's new assignment, we get to use the latest version as soon as the Colonel's team gives it their blessing."

Just as Arlene started to answer, an alarm siren began to sound, but was cut off a half second later. "What was that?"

"A warning of approaching aircraft, but the aircraft was obviously quickly identified and the computer shut the alarm off. We're almost to the 'bridge' as we call it. We'll stop by and check it out."

A few seconds later, the group followed Lieutenant Mayfield in to stand just inside the door of Security's command center. In addition to several personnel manning equipment around the room, there were three main consoles at the other end. One console sat in the vertex of the triangle formed by the three units. The main unit was also raised a few inches higher than the others. Each had a big main screen with several smaller ones beneath and to the sides of it. A technician sat at each station, a complicated array of equipment under his or her command.

A high-res view of an incoming helicopter dominated the main screen of the command console, the two other backup consoles showing different views of the same aircraft.

Arlene, realizing that she was looking at her father's "radar," asked the Sergeant, "Is that the distance to the helicopter showing there on the right side of the screen?"

But Lieutenant Mayfield, standing just in front of them and hearing their conversation, answered instead before the Sergeant could respond. "Thirty two point nine six klicks. We have the detection limits set at thirty five klicks for slow-moving aircraft. The equipment will alert to anything above Mach 1 at a much greater distance, of course."

Raising his voice a little, "Show us the personnel inside the aircraft," he ordered.

The main screen switched to a view of the two pilots, while the smaller screen on the right of the big one showed the other people in the passenger compartment of the helicopter.

"Identify personnel on screen," Mayfield ordered, showing off his equipment.

The lead tech touched a finger to an area on her console. Red lettering suddenly floated near each of the images of the people on board. "Looks like Mrs. Reed is bringing your group home this morning," the Lieutenant commented as "Charlene Reed" in red lettering floated near the image of the pilot in the left seat. "Well, at least she's flying second seat," he finished. "Captain Madison is obviously commanding the aircraft as they arrive." Turning more fully toward the three, he continued, "Captain Madison told me that he pilots the helicopters when he has the chance, in order to maintain his certification for rotary aircraft. If his landings are any indication, he's an excellent pilot."

"Frank Wainwright swears by him," Arlene commented, "and my Dad thinks he's pretty sharp, too."

The Sergeant cleared his throat. "Well, we have training to attend to. By your leave, Lieutenant?" Higgins said.

"Carry on, Sergeant."

When the group had left the command center and were again following the Sergeant, Arlene spoke to Kayla. "I know Mom didn't expect them this early. They must be really anxious to get home."

"Yeah," Kayla agreed. Then with a grin, "We're all going to look like ghosts compared to them sporting their fresh tans from that tropical island."

Arlene leaned over to whisper in Kayla's ear, "Wonder if they're all-over tans?"

Kayla grinned back, but made no response.

A moment later as they walked into one of the training rooms, the Sergeant turned to Arlene. "Uh, Ms. Matthews..."

But Arlene was shaking her head as she motioned with her hand. "Sergeant, could I please say something?"

"Certainly, Ma'am."

"I can't speak for Kayla, uh, Lieutenant Fisher here, since she still holds a rank in the General's organization, or for Art, but Mom took me aside this morning. I'm certain – we're certain – that all of you are aware of our, uhm, circumstances. But to reiterate in clearer terms, Sergeant Higgins, there are several polygamist marriages involving people who you and your group here protect every day. I'm sure that you're aware that I'm your Colonel's wife – as well as his daughter..."

A look passed over the Sergeant's face, but before he could speak, the young Queen went on. "Mom cautioned me that my, uh, double role, shall we say, might cause you a bit of ... embarrassment, as you go about training us. I don't know how much you know about our Queen, my mother, but she instructed me to tell you some things about us, or perhaps remind you of some things. So here goes. We're truly a family. A family headed by our Prime – your Colonel. Our family, and those of the other Alphas we know, have a clan Queen – my mother – Diana. Even though she has mentioned this as she was introduced to some of the Security personnel and my father's team, she wishes me to again request that you and everyone here refer to us – your Colonel's wives – by our given names. She's Diana, and I'm Arlene. In the words of my father, I'm here to learn, and not be coddled."