Artemis heard the chains rattling before her new partner and his escort had even left the base on their way to the hangar.  She could hear a conversation at ninety feet.  She could hear a whisper from forty feet.  Her eyesight was extraordinary as well.  Humans with perfect vision can see detail at twenty feet.  Artemis could see the same amount of detail from over half a mile away.  She could smell that one of Archeron’s guards had chicken and broccoli for dinner the night before.<br/><br/>One blue eye cracked open to regard the jumpsuit-clad man in front of her.  “Stealth.  Hacking.  CQC.”  Artemis had been created through a splice of human and mountain lion genes.  She was meant to be the ultimate predator.  Just like her animal half would hunt by dropping down on its prey, Artemis specialized in swift attacks that the enemy never saw coming.  She had a special affinity for ventilation systems.  They were the ultimate maze-like obstacle courses especially when the shafts went vertical.  To her, they were simply a playground.<br/><br/>The other eye opened as the chains were removed.  She never could understand why he couldn’t just toe the line on base.  Go rogue out on operations.  It was less likely to carry the same consequences that his actions on base did.  Hell, for all she knew, he needed an escort to go take a piss.  It was painfully obvious that each of his mates hadn’t been able to tame him enough to get him to behave.  Not like she cared though.  It wasn’t like she would be any different than the other women he had run through.  One mission, maybe two, and she’d be reassigned.  It was insulting how they always reassigned the female, never the male.  Even though the end result was the same, it carried the effect of making it always seem like failed partnerships were the woman’s fault.  It was probably Lorraine Abbott’s idea to keep the male hybrids happy, to appeal to their innate Alphaness.<br/><br/>Her stare was palpable as her eyes slid up and down his body.  There was no denying he was a good-looking man.  The tattoos, the muscles, the beard.  They all served to emphasize the sheer masculinity of the hybrid man.  She’d be a liar if she said she never thought about what it would be like to feel him between her thighs.<br/><br/>Her nostrils flared ever so slightly as she gave into her imagination.  It was no secret that many pairs indulged in each other after missions.  It was an easy way to relieve the stress from what they had just been through.  Plus with adrenaline running high, it was only a matter of time before the male and female partners crashed into each other.  Fleeting images of strong hands hoisting her up, claiming her body and driving her wild, hard hungry kisses and hard thrusting hips ran through her mind.  A smirk twisted one side of her lips as she imagined that orange jumpsuit in a heap on the floor of her room.<br/><br/>She finished her coffee in a weak attempt to cover her thoughts.  The empty paper cup was set on the seat next to her.  “Sit down and brief me about what we’re supposed to be doing in Stockholm.  Pickering wouldn’t tell me anything.  Probably because he’s still pissed about what happened in Basel.”  Artemis assumed he knew what had happened.  Often the results of their missions or any fantastic feats were spread around the base like some twisted game of Whisper Down the Lane.  It wasn’t a secret that Archeron had chosen to sacrifice completing his mission objective to save his partner when her ass had landed in a bit of figurative hot water.<br/><br/>Just like it really wasn’t a secret that Artemis had taken it upon herself to do the task that had been set forth for her partner.  The unfortunate part was that she simply wasn’t built for it.  Too long; didn’t read, their human back up had been forced to step in, putting them in danger.  For some reason, the Company felt fine risking the lives of their hybrids despite the expense that when into creating each one of them.  But to put a human life at risk?  That was simply unacceptable.  Pickering hoped that by putting her with Acheron, the big man would be able to pull her in a little bit, to keep her from going rogue.<br/><br/>The pilot finished his preflight check, giving Artemis a slight nod as he entered the cockpit.  They had flown a few missions together.  It wasn’t a friendship they had; he was more of a professional acquaintance.  Bill had the skills to get them into position without putting them immediately into danger.<br/><br/>The plane began to buzz with excitement, the radio crackling to life as Bill began to communicate with the tower.  Once the doors were shut securely, they began to taxi down the runway.  Once the noise level picked up, Artemis twitched slightly.  It was a by-product of her excellent hearing.  Too much noise at once, especially people noise combined with ambient noise could be overwhelming.  She had been trained to sort through the various levels of noise and ignore the ones she didn’t want to hear but sometimes, like now when she was tired, it took a second or two for the training to kick in.<br/><br/>The force of the thrust as the plane became airborne pressed her back into her seat, yawning to relieve the pressure in her ears.  This would be a long flight and she was tired, wanting nothing more than to sleep.  But first, she needed to know what she would be doing.  Hopefully, it was something simple.  After the Basel incident, she wanted her next mission to be nothing but by the book.