From: Subject: [SuperStrengthFantasies] New story - Bannister Part 5 Well, here it is, at long last! Enjoy... ------------------------------------------ BANNISTER PART 5 - The Program by JL The office was quite impressive, Drew noted as he leaned back in the oversized swivel chair. Various shots of military hardware lined the wall, along with the occasional medal, one of which was the Purple Heart. Obviously he wasn`t dealing with an amateur here. He`d been on the base only half an hour, but it already felt quite familiar. One of his uncles had been in the Army, and as a kid, Drew had visited him on various bases. He`d been fascinated with the military - the detail, the organization, the firepower. And, once his superhuman strength had begun to manifest itself, the machinery. At the age of 12, he`d taken on his first Jeep, compacting it against a brick wall with all the force his young muscles could muster. He`d only been able to bend the frame slightly (and crack the wall), but he still remembered the thrill of feeling solid steel warp under his grip for the first time. Not to mention the astonished gapes of the half-dozen servicemen watching. His uncle had put a stop to the visits afer that, but that hadn`t stopped young Drew from sneaking onto the occasional base and dismantling some of the equipment. Most of it was headed for the scrap heap anyway...Drew`s eyes caught a large photo of a tank hanging on the opposite wall. It was almost identical to the one he`d dismantled on his sixteenth birthday. Christ, that`d been a workout, peeling all that steel plating off, then tying the turret into a knot. He wondered what the servicemen who found it had thought. Probably didn`t have a fucking clue. The door opened behind Drew. He stood and turned around to see Corporal Edward Daniels, the man who`d written the letter. He was fairly tall, about 6'1". Medium build, though obviously in shape, and greying around the temples. Drew offered the Corporal a quick salute, then shook his hand. A firm handshake had never been a problem for Drew. "Have a seat. Hope I didn`t keep you waiting for long," Daniels said, his tone surprisingly casual. "No sir. I just got here." "Good. Let's cut to the chase, Mr. Bannister. The US Army brought you here today for a reason. Now, for obvious reasons, we can`t force you to do anything." Daniels stole a quick glance at Drew`s building-toppling arms. "But I think I can persuade you that we can make use of your, ah, unique talents. And that you have much to benefit in return." "All right, I`m listening," Drew said, leaning forward. "Ever since the end of the Cold War, the US military has been forced to adapt to a new set of rules. We just can`t send in the cavalry every time some other country pisses us off. Not that we have the capacity anyway. Plus, we need to respond to a new kind of threat. It was easier when it was just the Commies. Now we`ve got religious fanatics, two-bit dictators, domestic terrorist, computer hackers...you name it. Tanks and missiles can only do so much against that sort of threat. We need a new kind of warrior. And that`s where you come in." Drew stroked his dark beard thoughtfully. "OK. That`s what you get out of it. But what`s in it for me?" "We`ll offer you a very generous compensation package. Plus, we have a state-of-the-art training facility, not to mention tons of old hardward for you to, um, practice on. Trust me, you`ll be able to test the upper limits of your strength here." And not in populated areas where people could get hurt, Daniels thought but didn`t say. Drew appeared to mull it over, though in fact he`d made up his mind two days earlier. "All right. Count me in. But like I warned your message boy, you better not be planning anything. No backhanded shit." Here he tightened his machine-gun biceps a little, enough to stretch the seams out. "Cause, quite frankly, I`m not quite sure what my own limits are." If Daniels was ruffld, he didn`t show it. Drew had to give him respect for that. "This is all on the level. I give you my word," Daniels said. "There is more info though, all on a top-secret basis, of course. You`ll receive a full briefing at 0900 tomorrow." The Army office rose from his chair. "By the way, there is something else you should know. You aren`t alone in this project. There`s one other recruit." "Seriously?" Drew said, caught off guard for the first time that day. "His name`s Corey Knox. Good kid. He`s scheduled for a training session in a few minutes, if you want to watch." ---------------- "So I`m just supposed to stop it, right? Not destroy it?" the hulking blond teenager called. His voice was strong enough to carry into the glass-walled control booth a hundred feet away. "Yeah, Corey. Try to leave some of it intact. It`s a time trial," the technician answered over the loudspeaker. The view from the control room was an interesting one. It overlooked a vast expanse of dirt and concrete that was once used for combat exercises. In a way, it still was...just combat exercises of a different sort. The area was empty. save for an old armored personnel carrier, eighteen tons of compact, reinforced steel. It wasn`t big, but it was solid, and had seen action twice during the Persian Gulf war. Not that it mattered much to the tanned, well-muscled guy standing fifty feet away, who was barely old enough to remember that war. Corey Knox stood patiently, hands planted on rippling thighs. He was stripped to the waist, revealing a body that looked for all the world like it was carved from granite. Corey stood a shade under six feet, with densely-packed shoulders, rounded pecs, and cannonballs for biceps, complemented by a chiseled 8-pack. He wasn`t monstrously huge - he could have passed for a light-heavyweight bodybuilder - but he was absolutely ripped. Veins crawled along his cabled arms and popped out along his shoulders and pecs. All in all, a pretty intimidating package, especially for someone not techncially old enough to be in the Army. "All right, get ready," the technician said, flipping a switch to activate the carrier`s remote control guidance. It hadn`t been easy to set up, but it was a hell of a lot better than having someone in the carrier. He punched a button, and the big machine roared to life. The sound of the engine kicking in made Corey focus. He turned to face the armored carrier as it lumbered into motion, crawling on heavy treads. Muscle fibers twitched across Corey`s smooth pecs as he stared down the machine. The carrier worked up a bit of speed, closing the distance to ten feet, then five...just before the moment of impact, the teenager cocked his fist and SLAMMED it into the front end. His mighty fist crumpled the armor and rocked the big vehicle, slowing its progress. Corey took a couple of steps back and BAM!, kicked the carrier with his left foot, hard enough to knock the front end a few inches off the ground. His tanned skin glistened in the bright sun as he brought his fists together over his head, arms bunching up like twisted girders...a slight grunt escaped his lips as he POUNDED his fists home, driving the front end into the dirt and splitting the 2-inch-thick armor. The engine sputtered and choked. The technician attempted to increase the carrier`s speed, but Corey felt the increase in power and easily matched it. He held the 18-ton machine in place with his left arm, the tendons in his forearms standing out like ship`s cable. With his right hand, he grabbed the exposed edge where the armor had split open, his long fingers closing around the dense armor. And pulled. Battle-tested steel whined pitifully under the scowling teenager`s immensely powerful grip. The rip widened further as Corey steadily peeled the front section of armor back. Still his left arm allowed no movement, standing as rigid and solid as marble. The engine was clearly in danger of overheating now, as white smoke poured out from the powerless treads. As soon as he`d peeled away a roughly 2-foot- square section of armor, Corey once again cocked his fist and drove it clear into the hole, breaking through another protective layer in the process. He grabbed what he could - a bunch of wires and part of a steel plate - and wrenched them back out with enough force to rattle the carrier. The engine died with a whimper. Corey held the wires and bent steel in his clenched fist as he turned to face the technician. In contrast to the technician, who was breathing hard and sporting a woody, Corey seemed amazingly relaxed. Almost like a normal man after a warm-up. "I wanna try one more thing," Corey said before the technician could flip on the loudspeaker. He shook his right arm out, then grabbed the edge of the exposed section of armor. Twisting his hand around, he molded the armor into a makeshift handhold. The leverage was all wrong, the handhold wasn`t secure...but Corey went for it anyway. He knew from experience that brute strength usually won out over physics. His back swelled and separated, like hanger doors parting to reveal a B-1 bomber, while his right bicep tensed into an arc of dense muscle. A guttoral growl filled the air as Corey put his immense power to the test, cords bulging out of his neck and forearms. The carrier began to shake slightly - then, amazingly - rose off the ground a couple of inches. The technician gasped as he watced Corey curl the monstrous weight off the ground with one fucking arm. Corey`s face was a mask of concentration as he curled the front end a good three feet off the ground, his arm trembling slightly but holding firm. He supported the 35,000+ pounds for a full 20 seconds before letting it CRASH down to the ground. He stamped his foot in triumph, hard enough to rattle the glass in the control booth. "Um...nice work, Corey," was all the technician could say. His khaki pants were tented, and he thanked God he was alone. "Yeah, not bad," he yelled back. -------------------------- From the other side of the training area, Drew set down his binoculars. "Pretty impressive. You weren`t kidding. That kid`s got some real power. And you said he`s only 16?" "Yep," Daniels answered, "and not by much either. His parents had to sign a waiver before he could join the program." Drew looked back at the wrecked personnel carrier. Would he have been able to pull off a stunt like that at Corey`s age? Maybe, he thought. But certainly not as easily. "Come on," Daniels said, "I`ll introduce you." The two men hopped in the idling Jeep, the engine laboring slightly under Drew`s bulk, and drove across the dusty field. Corey was walking back towards the control room, but turned when he heard the approaching Jeep. A few drops of sweat clung to each rippling pec. An inquisitive look crossed his young face as he caught a glimpse of the massive, bearded man crammed into the passenger seat. Daniels stopped the Jeep a few feet away from Corey. "Corey Knox, I`d like you to meet Drew Bannister. He`s the new recruit I told you about." "Nice work out there, kid," Drew said, extending his hand. Corey shook it; his right hand was big, but it was swallowed up by Drew`s catcher`s mitt. Drew stood about six inches taller than Corey, and was noticeably bigger in terms of muscle size, but Corey clearly matched him when it came to muscle density. They shook hands for longer than normal, as if assessing each other`s strength. "Thanks, man. That was quite a number you did on that vault door," Corey responded, finally letting go. Drew shot a look over at Daniels, taken aback for the second time that day. "Oh, yes, I almost forgot. The bank vault door, that`s how we found you. We were able to get some fingerprints off it. You weren`t an easy man to find, though. It took nearly a month." "Yeah, well, that`s the way I like it," Drew said. Daniels glanced at his watch. "Danm, I`m late for a meeting. I`ll let you gentlemen get acquainted." With that, he hopped back in the Jeep and sped off, kicking up a cloud of dust. Drew and Corey stood silently for a moment before Drew spoke. "So how`d they find you?" "Well, it was more a case of me finding them," Corey said, almost sheepishly. "Got a minute?" Drew smiled. "I think so." "OK. See, I`ve always been stronger than other kids my age." That was an understatement, Drew thought, eyeing the armored personnel carrier. "It`s something genetic. My dad`s a really strong guy, sometimes works construction, and when he`s around they don`t need a forklift. I remember when I was a kid, I`d go up to the site, and he`d show off for the other guys...bending I-beams in half, deadlifting dump trucks, stuff like that. He loves freaking people out with his strength. "But whatever he has, I must`ve got a hundred times over. I was benching more than he could deadlift by the time I was 13. Something happened around that time though. One of the older kids in my neighborhood was constantly bullying me, guess I looked at him the wrong way or something. Anyway, one day I just couldn`t take it anymore. I grabbed an old telephone pole and yanked it outta the ground, then snapped it in half over my shoulders. Told him I`d do thta to him if he ever pissed me off again." "So what happened?" Drew asked. "He didn`t bother me again, but he told everybody I was some kind of freak, that I had tried to kill him. I didn`t have any friends for a year after that. Had to transfer schools in the end. I promised myself I`d never use my strength in anger again. "I actually did pretty well for a while. Made new friends, was doing ok in school, even had a girlfriend. My dad built me a gym, old construction equipment mostly. But then, about six months ago...I don`t know, I just lost it one day. It`d been a shitty day all around, I flunked a test, my girlfriend dumped me, then I got in a fight with my parents. I went for a walk, just to blow off some steam...walked a couple of miles, then came across a freight train blocking the road. It just sat there, for about 15 minutes, there was no way around it. Finally I just got fed up, walked to the front of the train and told the engineer to move it. Guy told me to fuck off. That was it, I just went ballistic. Ripped my shirt off and started whaling on the engine, just bashing it in...I think the whole train was shaking. Engineer freaked out, and ran away, good thing too, cause next I grabbed the front of the engine and lifted it off the tracks. Man, what a crazy feeling...I held it for a minute, just to prove to myself I could do it, then tossed it aside. Derailed a couple of cars with it, and took out part of a warehouse next door. After that, it`s kinda a blur. I smashed up a couple more cars, but at least had enough sense to take off before the cops came." "Damn," was all Drew could say. Taking on a freight train at 15? Fuck, this kid was in a whole new league. Still, Drew could sympathize. Even though he`d never been shy about showing off his considerable power, he knew what it felt like to be regarded as a freak. "How`d you end up here?" "My dad has a buddy in the Army...it took a few months, but they set this program up. It`s the best thing for me, this way I don`t have to worry about losing it in public. So what`s your story? What happened with that vault door anyway?" Drew told him about the showdown with Vince, how they`d levelled part of a city block and seriously damaged an office tower. Corey listened with a sense of wonder, especially the part about how Drew had ripped the heavy, blast-proof vault door off with one hand. They began walking towards their quarters. Corey peppered Drew with questions about the incident, nodding his blond head as he listened intently. Ten minutes later, they reached their quarters, which were separate from the rest of the base. By Army standards, they were quite comfortable, almost like an apartment. Someone had delivered Drew`s bags to the front door; he grabbed them and tossed them on his bed. There were a couple of khaki uniforms hanging in the closet, but they didn`t look quite big enough. Corey went into his room and threw on a t-shirt, which swelled around the still-bulging muscle underneath. The thick vein on each bicep pressed out against the tight sleeves. He grabbed a Coke from the fridge, downing it in two gulps before letting out a huge belch. He crumpled the empty can in his right hand, compressing it into the size of a golf ball. "So," Drew said, grabbing a Coke of his own, "Is there anywhere to work out around here?" "Well, they did have a special gym, but I kinda broke most of the machines first time out. They`re trying to rebuild them. For now, they let me use the scrap yard out back." "Shit, let`s go check that out." ------------------------------ Most of the men on the base called it "the graveyard", and it wasn`t far off. Tons of old vehicles and materials sat rusting, waiting to be sold for scrap or melted down. Drew looked around; it seemed good for a start. Tons of metal just sitting, waiting... "There was an old tank here, but I pretty much took it apart. I`m sure we can find something good though," Corey said. He started digging through the largest pile, tossing aside old steel plates and twisted beams as if they weighed nothing. Corey saw it first, then Drew a second later: an old, cast-iron cannon. "What`d I tell ya?" Corey said with a smile. He reached in and dragged the bulky cannon out. It had obviously been there a while, a little rusty but still in decent shape, about seven feet long and jet black. Corey looked it over for a minute, as if unsure what to do with it. Finally, he grabbed the cannon`s underbelly, took a deep breath, and tightened his arms. Thick, cable- like muscles fought for space along his forearms as he curled the monstrous weight. Hadn`t even planted his legs, Drew noticed; it was all arms. Corey`s biceps swelled into cannonballs, harder and stronger than anything ever fired from the weapon he was mastering. Veins zigzagged along the length of his arms...his form was damn near perfect, especially considering the awkward shape of the weight. After 12 reps, he appeared to be slowing, so Drew shouted to toss the cannon over. Which is exactly what he did, hurling it through the air with those artillery-shell biceps. Drew caught it, staggering a couple of steps backward, but managed to steady it without dropping it. "Not bad, kid," he said, "but I think I`ll try somethin` different." He set the cannon down and took off his shirt, revealing a wall of impossibly solid, masculine muscle. Even Corey looked impressed. Drew stuck his hands in the cannon`s mouth, fingers gripping the inside. The iron was a good three inches thick...Drew clamped down and began pulling out. Rigdes rose along his back, while his lats spread out like tectonic plates. Almost immediately, a low ringing sound emanated from the cannon, not unlike a bell. The top and bottom edges began to lighten in color - like they were being pulled apart. "Holy fuck," Corey whistled. Drew grunted and continued to pour on his brute strength. The top of the cannon split open, almost like the seam of a shirt sleeve, soon followed by the bottom. The horrible sound of iron being ripped open filled the scrapyard. The seams widened as Drew`s arms mushroomed with monstrous power. Six inches, then nine...just like he was peeling a fucking banana. Each tug split the cannon further until his arms began pointing outward; by then, the physics of the situation proved impossible for even HIM to master. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, the two sides of the camera jutting out in opposite directions. He looked winded, but - as Corey noted - not quite exhausted. "Wow, man, that was unreal!" Corey exclaimed (as if he hadn`t just done something unbelievable himself). Drew laughed. "Yeah, it`s a good start. Looks like there`s plenty of shit here to break." "Yeah, well, don`t exhaust yourself yet," Corey said. "Daniels told me as soon as you got here, we`d have a real training session. They`ve been setting it up for weeks." Drew let out a deep breath, feeling completely satisfied. For the first time in his life, he had a training partner who could keep up with him. And, with any luck, he`d finally have a chance to test his own limits. "Let`s bring it on then." END PART 5