One: Meet the Team

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        We're cruising by at a solid 85 miles per hour, the desert landscape passing too quickly for me to focus on anything. Sand plumes behind us. The sun makes sure everyone knows she exists, burning my skin and reflecting off of Miss Pauling's helmet right into my retinas. My arms wrap around her stomach since she doesn't have handles on the side for sitting support.

"Hey, are you sure you really want to accept this assignment?" Miss Pauling yells to be heard over her engine. "Last call to bail out!"

"I thought the last call was when we first hit the road!" I yell back.

"That was the Administrator's last call, mine is right now!"

I turn my head slightly to get the reflection out of my eyes. "I think it'll be fine! I have three little brothers back home who would get into trouble all the time!"

Her shoulders move as if she's laughing. She increases speed. I move an arm to turn around easier to ensure my luggage is still strapped to the rack on the rear of her moped. Returning back to my normal position, she starts to slow some. The canyon wall beside us sees a small break, our vehicle slowing down to stop at it. A cardboard cut out of a bush and a not-very-convincing curtain rest in front of what I can assume to be a cave. Miss Pauling dismounts and deploys the kickstand to keep her bike upright.

"We're here," she chimes tauntingly.

I throw my leg over to get off, taking off my helmet and resting it on my seat. My escort helps me with taking my luggage down but is denied the allowance of helping me take it in. I sling my backpack on and pull the handle to my suitcase up, rolling it along as we approach the opening. Dust sticks to my skin while sweat acts as the adhesive, definitely warranting a clothing change once I get settled in. Miss Pauling has stains on her underarms, meaning I certainly have them, too.

Beeping is heard and sentries target us as we push the curtain open. She sighs and rolls her eyes, beckoning me forward with the promise they won't go off since we're wearing purple. I chug along beside her, keeping up so then they'll get the both of us if she's wrong. The turret follows us, whirring its focus back to the curtain after we're far enough out of range. We walk up to the first building we see, a garage that gives me mechanic vibes. The door opens as we approach. Figures shuffle around inside and voices can be heard, bickering for the most part. Miss Pauling stops me.

"Now, listen. These guys are more than just 'a rowdy bunch,' alright?" She whispers, straightening out my collar. "They'll take some warming up to. You're going to be subject to a lot of weird behaviors, and you just have to power through it. They can be quite pleasant, but just a bit overbearing."

She nods and sighs, leading me over to the garage entrance. She hangs back and motions for me to enter, my feet carrying me in before I have the chance to ready myself. I'm met with a room of 3 men, all of their personalities seeming clear just by the way they present themselves. We stand and stare at one another for a few awkward moments until Miss Pauling makes her way in and breaks the ice.

"Guys, this is the assistant I was telling you about. She's here to help you with things around the base that's not within my job description," she introduces me, a meek greeting escaping my throat.

"What's up? They call me Scout," the lanky one starts, touting a Boston accent and making his way over to me to get up close and personal. He doesn't look like much physically, looking comparatively weaker than the other two present in the room. "And, this is a fort, Miss Pauling."

"It's the same thing!" She scoffs.

"It's a fort." The doctor-looking fellow stays planted where he is. Doves occupy his shoulders and he speaks in a German accent. "I'm Medic, please refer to me as such."

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