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A few hours later the chopper touched down at a huge military base. It was about 1000 yards in each direction and had watch towers at all four corners with snipers in them. There were four hangars, a runway, infirmary and a tall, four story command building. Six huge artillery guns stood in the center of a base in a circle and looked like a small man could even fit down the barrel. Barron had taught me a little about artillery and military stuff in general, and from the size of these guns I guessed that they were the large 200mms. It took me a minute to figure out where to land and I eventually touched down on the sand next to the landing pad where John and the others were exiting the Helo, looking beat up and tired.

"Good to have you back Raven", a man in desert camouflage said greeting them. He was a few inches taller than John, maybe about 6'5. He had light blonde hair and silver eyes with blue pupils and black iris'. It almost seemed as if he had dragon DNA in him.

"Sir", John said, "Jack is dead and Wyatt is missing."

"How?", the General asked, "the mission was supposed to be low risk."

"Apparently not", John sighed, "the Russian's turned up in Iraq where we found Emelia here", he motioned to me, "and we captured and taken to Vietnam where they killed Jack and we fought off a squad of them before Blackflag arrived."

The General sighed and muttered, "as if my week couldn't get any worse."

Now he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, "can't be helped, go and get some rest John, the rest of you too, you earned it, we'll focus on finding Wyatt, dismissed."

John and the others started walking towards the infirmary as the General turned to me.

"Emelia's your name right?", He asked.

I nodded.

"I'm General Xavier Holland", he said, "what's your unit number? I'll call your CO and let him know I got ya."

I shrugged, I had some idea what he was talking about by listening to Barron ramble about his time in the SAS, so I figured if now was a time to use it, it was now.

"I don't have a unit sir", I answered, "I was a circus performer, I have been my whole life."

Holland crossed his arms, "And you said your name is Emelia?"

I nodded, "yeah, Emelia Renxiang."

Holland looked me over, "I didn't think you were of Eastern Descent."

"How can you tell?", I said sarcastically.

"For starters, your body type is that of a Japanese Dragon, you have an American Accent, but I can hear the Japanese in your voice", Holland said, "when I saw you land, I thought you were Draco."

"Draco?", I asked tilting my head curiously.

"I can't go into detail on that mam", Holland said, "what I can tell you is that it's a program that trains dragons, such as yourself, to be soldiers. You helped John and his team get back, and from the looks of them, I'm fairly certain they wouldn't have made it back."

"You don't know the half of it", I sighed inaudibly.

"I'll speak with my higher ups about you", Holland said, "but for now, you should stay with John and his team. If you come with me, I'll take you to meet a man named X, he's an older Russian man who builds the weapons for the dragons and I'm sure he'll be happy to cook something up for you."

I followed Holland from the landing pad across the base and into a small brick building. I wish I could convey through words...the smell of this place. It smelled like people had been making things out of metal in here for hundreds of years. There were several workbenches with all kinds of metal parts on them and a large furnace in the back that had a couple of gun barrels stuck in it. There were three or four hydraulic hammers that looked like they were to form barrels without the use of the furnace, but I wasn't sure. The entire room was poorly lit and the walls were covered in a heavy layer of carbon, reminding me of the medevil Blacksmith shop that our parents had taken Allison and I to see when we were little. I had always wondered how people were able to breathe in places like this because they always looked like they always looked like were vacuum packed.

"X", Holland called, "you around brother?"

A small, white haired Russian man came out of the back room with large gloves on. He was about six feet and had blue eyes and dark skin as well as a mess of burn scars and stitches.

"General", X said, "what brings you by?"

"Emelia here needs a weapon", Holland said, "what ya got that will fit her?"

"Most of the guns here will fit her", X said looking me over, "but I doubt I have a vest long enough to fit, I can stick a few together though, mind if I get a few measurements I'll have to custom make the vest for your body."

I nodded. He grabbed a small tape measure and checked my length, which was 24 feet, the width of my chest and my waist before disappearing into the back room. About 20 minutes later, he came back with a vest that was almost 16 feet long with a M249 SAW attached to it. The reason I knew what it was is because that Antony had one that he had bought while we were in Colorado and stashed it on the train. I had shot it a few times and I remembered that it was a particularly nasty weapon, especially when you on the receiving end of it. The vest had a metal box below the SAW with a belt of 5.56 that fed into the right side. I hoped that having the SAW on the right side wouldn't mean I would have to learn how to shoot all over again.

"You look a little worried sister", Holland said.

"The gun is on the right side", I said, "I'm a lefty."

"The SAW"s not your primary weapon", X said, "the vest supports two weapons and the SAW is a secondary. I had a feeling you were a lefty so I mounted the SAW on your right so it wouldn't mess up your aim."

"Oh", I said feeling a little sheepish, "cool. What do I have to pick from? I'm not to big on real bulky guns...hell I'm not too particular on guns even."

X gave me a look, "why not?"

I sighed, "I've just never really cared for them. The only reason I had a shotgun was because my little sister got robbed."

"I understand", X said, "I didn't have my first weapon till I came to America in the 60's, anyway, we have everything from 9mm Machine guns all the way up to huge 105 artillery pieces. In specific, we have the 9mm through .308 caliber Dillon miniguns..."

I cut him off. I wasn't a fan of guns in general but I WAS all too familiar with the Minigun. In fact, there was probably very little that I didn't know about that piece of hardware...actually to be fair that piece of hardware was all I knew about guns.

"I want the Dillon", I said, "5.56 NATO with heavy chrome lined barrels."

"Are you sure?", X asked, "I wasn't even done."

"I want the Dillon", I said, "almost all of what I know about firearms is that one weapon. If I have to have one then that's the one I want."

"Alright then", X said grabbing one of the Dillon's from a counter and bolting it to the vest. Holland helped me slide it on and adjust it and then they gave me a crash course in how it worked. There was a headband that I wore with the vest that held a piece of hologlass that went in front of my left eye which held a HUD, or heads up display. It showed the condition of my vest itself, my vitals, heart rate, breathing, stuff like that, how well my weapons were working and how much ammunition I had remaining. I could fire and switch weapons just by thinking and each weapon followed the path of my eye, stopping when a laser sight intercepted my neck and disengaged the fire controls so I wouldn't shoot myself in the throat, which I thought was pretty cool. X and Holland told me that they would get a Raven Uniform too me in a couple of hours and until then, X advised I should wear the vest around to get used to the feel of it. Holland told me to go get something to eat, so I went to the mess hall, finding John and the rest of the team in the way back, looking very, very gloom. Hurt from Jackson I guessed. I didn't blame them either.

When John saw me, he whistled.

"Damn girl", he said, "that looks good on you."

I blushed and laughed a little, "you think?"

"Yeah", he answered, "course, could be because I'm on the receiving end of your M249."

Ops. I glanced at my sides and the weapons clicked back, just like Holland had showed me.

"Sorry", I said, "and no, I won't shoot you."

I found myself grinning.

"Unless you gimme a reason", I smiled.

"Where'd you get the hardware from sister?", Hudson asked.

"Holland sourced it from something called Project Draco", I answered, "I don't know, I wasn't paying attention."

"Don't worry", Hudson smiled, "your not the only one to doze at that man's yammering, were all guilty of it."

After a round of laughter, John looked at Issac.

"Hows the foot doing?", He asked.

"As well as it possibly can be little brother", Issac said, "the hurts a metric shit ton because the Doc said that the bone in my leg was shattered like glass, but she also said I'll be fine in a couple of weeks. She said she requested a special set of boots so I can still go into combat, but I shouldn't run if I can help it."

"That sucks", Hudson said.

"Yeah", Issac said, "I'm pretty heavy on painkillers right now, those help."

"Addict", John laughed.

There was more laughter. It was another 20 minutes or so before a chief brought me a huge piece of baked chicken with red pepper flakes on it. I bit into it like I hadn't eaten in weeks, drawing a rather amusing comment from Hudson.

"Damn girl. You can eat."

I pretended like I didn't hear him and tried hard to stifle my laugh. Once we were done eating, John and the team went to the PT range and I followed them. It consisted of a huge, asphalt track and several other workout area's sitting in the sand that was in the space inside the track. John and I started doing push ups, while the others started lifting weights. I spread both my forepaws as far out as they would go, dug my claws into the sand and lowered myself as close to the ground as I could before pushing myself back up. Don't ask where I came up with that, just thought of it now. I was at the 430 mark when John stopped and sat down and at 440 when he asked.

"What's the count sister?"

"440", I grunted, "and still going strong.

John was laying down to do some sit ups when I heard another man walk up and start talking to him. I didn't catch much other than the man's name, which was Corey, and the way he talked made me think he was born in Mexico and came to the US later. They talked for a couple of minutes before John said he was going to try and take a nap and left. I finished my push-ups with 550 and then stood back up, stretching out a little bit before turning to face Corey. He was a skinny, 5'0 Mexican man with salt and pepper hair and storm grey eyes. He had on desert combat pants and a white shirt.

"Your Raven's new chick huh?", Corey asked.

I smiled, "yeah I guess."

"I've seen a couple of dragons in my time", Corey said, "never seen and Eastern though. "

"Well I've never seen a Western", I said, "up until this happened I thought dragons were just a myth."

Corey laughed, "up until WW2 they were, I was a fantasy nut when I was younger, so I've seen pictures of just about every dragon, Eastern-Western, small and large that you could think of. Here's an interesting bit of trivia, did you know that weather or not Eastern Dragons are born or hatched depends on the Female?"

I tilted my head.

"Assume for a moment that you were born", Corey said, "then you will birth live young, but if your mate was hatched then your daughter might lay eggs."

"That's pretty interesting", I told him, "where you pick that up at?"

Corey smiled, "like I said, fantasy nut. Wanna here more?"

I nodded. Corey talked with me for hours about the history and biology. Some of the stuff made me very curious about myself, but others embarrassed me so badly I made him change the subject. After about an hour or so, Corey and I went back to the mess hall with Hudson, Issac and Frank, where we found a woman who was about 30 years old with two boys standing at the doorway. She was dressed in desert tan like everyone else and had a wedding ring on her finger.

"Holy shit Taylor", Issac said hugging her, "when did you show up?"

"Couple hours ago", Taylor replied, "Holland said you guys weren't back yet so I crashed there with him", she looked at me, "you must be Emelia?"

"I am", I answered, "who are you?"

"Taylor Mason", she answered, "United States Navy. I'm John's wife."

"Wow", I smiled, "I assume these are your boys?"

She nodded, "Alex is the younger one and Danny is the oldest."

Alex was a short, black haired and blue eyed kid who looked a lot like his Dad. He was about 4 '8 and was wearing blue jeans, a pair of white sneakers and a mickey mouse T-Shirt.

Danny was a combination of the two of them. He was wearing a white shirt, blue jeans and black boots as well as a army jacket with the selves rolled up. His brown hair was cut fairly short and there were sunglasses stuck in his head. His eyes were a bright aquamarine and the way he carried himself made me think he was too mature for his age. We sat down at the table and a few minutes later John came in, dressed in his standard army desert.

"Hey guys", he said sitting next to Taylor.

"You didn't tell me you were married", I smiled.

John shrugged, "13 years, right out of high school. Didn't tell you cause I figured someone else already had I guess."

I smiled, "I hope I can find someone some day."

"You will", John said, "you'll just have to know where to look."

"I'm thinking Japan", I grinned, "no reason."

Hudson laughed, "the hell there isn't."

"There isn't", I answered, "I just want to visit Japan, plus, I wanna see Mt. Fujimi Kiado."

"Well there's your reason", Issac said yawning, "damn, my tours about up."

"How long you got left brother?", Taylor asked.

"Four weeks", Issac said, "Jackie would have been going home in two."

John sighed, "I got a month left."

"20 days", Frank said.

"Month", Hudson said.

"I'll be ready with the hunting stuff once you guys get back to the states", Frank said, "where should we go this

time?"

"Rockies", John answered.

"Already been", Issac said, "we need to go up to Alaska. I have an old RV I can hook to the back of my Ford

F150 we could head up their the first Monday after everyone gets back."

"Speaking of everyone", John said, "when does Wyatt get off?"

"Assuming we find him", Hudson said, "40 days."

"Don't talk like that", John said, "we'll find him."

"And you know that how?", I asked.

"We'll find him", I said.

"Yeah", Holland said walking up to us, "you will, guys, come with me."

We stood from the table without too much fuss and followed Holland to the command tent. Once there, he walked to his desk and pressed play on a tape recorder.

"Overlord...Raven 2-4 Actual...Africa...need assistance."

Holland killed the playback.

"That was", Hudson began.

"Wyatt", he answered, "we traced the signal's source, and we found him.