You can have the best and the fastest car in the world, designed to absolute engineering perfection, and all that will do you little good if you don't know how to drive. Or if you are a cautious driver that never goes above the speed limit, so the car is practically wasted on you. Well, something similar to that situation happened to the team. I gave them the tools in the form of body augmentations and a few (awesome) technological upgrades, and I must admit that their effectiveness increased to a considerable extent. Even so, I did not put so much effort into improving them so they could just be good enough.

That little adventure with Tyron’s brother and the drug gang showed me that they were not using all the advantages that their new abilities provided. They did all right on that ad hoc mission, they got the job done; except the team should have worked like a well-oiled machine, but they did not. It was only natural for them in the heat of the moment to fall back on tactics and modes of behavior they knew and trusted. They failed to use comm links built into their CEIs to their full potential, the configurations of their HUDs were all wrong, and their situational awareness (which should have increased by an order of magnitude using their improved senses), was not the best. The problem was that they were acting like an all-star team that did not play together for a long time, and needed to get back into the groove. I knew that by using all the tools I’ve given them, the team could achieve such synergy, that no other combat group in the world could rival. Well, there is nothing that some excruciating training couldn’t fix.

Although I got to say, that move Tyron made when he shoved the gun into the gang leader's mouth was inspired, in a sort of macabre way. It sure was an unconventional way to kill your opponent and sent a powerful (if somewhat disturbing) message. My surveillance confirmed that all remaining gangbangers in that room had a bit of a sphincter muscle accident, which will require them to burn their pants. (Or keep them if they are into brown stains.) Be that as it may, I still found the entire operation lacking.

Thus, I devised a series of exercises for them so they could get familiar with their new enhanced physiques. Using their CEIs control over their ocular and auditory inputs to create an augmented reality for them, I designed a series of battle scenarios.

For the next week, I put them through an intense regiment of everyday training simulations, which would have sent any ordinary human into a hospital. The entire thing was presented as a video game, with a variety of obstacles and enemies that they needed to eliminate. If I ever decide to monetize this technology, there is a good chance that all game companies would go bankrupt. (In fact, I did make a few realistic video games for me to try out… for a therapeutic anger relief. Yeah… I have issues... doesn’t everybody?)

To be honest, the entire course was unusually tough, and its closest equivalent would be a SEAL’s Hell Week, but even that couldn’t really measure. With virtual opponents, realistic pain feedback emulators, and some exceptionally tricky scenarios.

Nevertheless, it helped them regain their edge again, and they were better for it. I have no idealistic illusions about the future, and I know that Michael and the others will need to spill some blood (preferably—not their own). It is one of those inevitable things that occur when you try to build a nation, and make no mistake, that is exactly what he needed to do. If for nothing else, then to ensure the safety of those close to us.

Yet, such endeavors require sacrifice and a certain price to be paid. Look how much blood was spilled in the creation of the United States. How many young lives were extinguished just so that people could choose their own fate? Freedom is a nice word, but what it signifies is always paid in blood, sometimes rivers of it. I hope that creating a nation to call our own will demand a lesser price, but I know that Michael will not let some injustices pass. He was never a simple observer and now he has the tools to right some wrongs, so naturally… he will, and the price will be paid.

Back to training.

With each day, their effectiveness and use of upgrades increased, and by the end, they were once again completely in sync with each other. Still, it would not be fair if they were the only ones who had a little fun. On one of the last missions, I created the final boss in an image of the very hot naked girl. As a matter of fact, I rendered her image from a certain Victoria's Secret model, and Al fell for it— hook, line, and sinker. Instead of being in the moment and reacting to an obvious threat, his IQ plummeted beneath his waist, so the lady boss shot him. And I made sure he felt all those virtual bullets. Alice had no such hang-ups and took a perfect shot that eliminated the naked assassin. It is safe to say that the other guys were not happy with Al since they had to repeat the entire scenario from the start. Again, and again, and again.

The reward for completing the course was a guys' night out, to blow off some steam. Alice and the girls decided to abstain, probably because I told them what entertainment I had in mind, and they decided to go on their own little R&R. The less said about it the better. I did keep tight surveillance on them, and the things I saw in that club… I wish I could scrub them from my memory. Seriously, women turn into completely different beings when in packs that exclude all men. It is a bit scary.

As for the boys… oh, that one was a doozy.

The place I chose was a Neo-Nazi biker gang hangout, a few hundred miles away from the cabin. They’ve done some deeds in the past that didn’t agree with me, and I felt taking them down a notch was the right thing to do. I’m humanitarian that way, doing a good deed.

With the incredible speed the transporter could achieve, it didn't take long for me to drop them off near the club. I figured it was an ideal place for some relaxation, and a perfect opportunity for a real-world test of the effectiveness of the training I put them through. A perfect win-win situation.

OK, that may have been a not so subtle set-up, but it all depends on your point of view. Michael and the team would not enjoy going to the opera, or some new-age impressionist’s performance. Still, some people are just asking for an ass-whooping, and these Neo-Nazis were close to the top of that list. Besides, it was fun to watch the action, like going to the movies. I even made some popcorn, laid back in a lazy chair with a full beer holder, and enjoyed the show. (What can I say, since I don’t have my own corporeal body anymore—I need to live vicariously.)

They completely trashed the place and all those delusional idiots at the bar. The disparity in strength and fighting skills was comical. Suddenly, the group of thugs that were so used to inflicting fear by their sheer presence, found out that they were not the wolves they thought themselves to be. A bunch of lambs with the delusions of grandeur would be a far better description, and even that was pushing it. The white supremacy barman with dental issues got the worst of it since for almost the entire fight, Tyrone used him as a baseball bat. Certainly a novel approach in handheld weapons, but hey, if it works…

As soon as the team left, I called the police and they arrested every single member of the biker gang. There was so much crystal meth in the basement, most of the state could’ve gotten high on it. It was not a big thing in the greater scheme of things, but every little effort helps.

Just another example in my quest to make the world the better place. All modesty aside, somebody should give me a medal.