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"They have feline DNA," Doctor Lemke said. The surgeon (actually, the prison's primary doctor) who'd been thwarted in his "neuter the trannies" campaign an hour earlier was speaking to the group of soldiers gathered outside their cage.
"Know your enemy, gentlemen," the CO of the bunch, Sergeant Irving, added. Stocky to the point of almost being overweight, bald, and rocking back and forth on his heels as if he truly enjoyed his job, the burly middle-aged career sergeant clad in military fatigues lectured his unit. "Doctor," he said, addressing his colleague, "what exactly are we up against here?"
"Good question," Lemke replied. "Very few studies have been done on the X series trangsgenics, primarily because so few of them have been captured alive. Our autopsies show they do indeed have a combination of feline and human DNA resulting in massively increased strength, speed, and sensory abilities."
"Meaning?" Sergeant Irving asked.
"Meaning, they're faster, stronger, and probably smarter than the lot of you all put together. Their hearts are oversized to handle the additional pumping action needed when they're utilizing their animal abilities, and their blood's swimming with undifferentiated stem cells that results in incredible healing abilities. Reports salvaged from Manticore indicate neurological tampering as well, resulting in boosted I.Q.'s. Their hearing, eyesight, and sense of smell are extraordinary, more on par with a cat's than a man's. All-in-all, Manticore succeeded in doing what it set out to do. The two creatures here in front of you are indeed "super" soldiers. And they're dangerous as hell." He looked longingly at the captives. "What I wouldn't give to get the go-ahead for a little surgical exploration."
Alec and Max sat side-by-side sat on the floor of their cage, backs against the rear bars, arms resting lightly on their knees as they regarded their mouthy military captors through narrow-slitted eyes.
Just breathe, Alec told himself, finding it nearly impossible to keep his temper in check. But he'd also be damned if he was going to put on a show for these so-called soldiers. They had no idea what real military training was. Patience, he kept telling himself. Patience. The need for that quality had been drilled into him since childhood.
He felt Max's fingers touch his and he turned his head slightly so he could look into her eyes. At least they were together. And they'd been issued clothing -- khaki cargo pants, t-shirts, boots ... all too reminiscent of what they'd worn as standard issue back at Manticore. But they were warm and dry and fed. There was a sink in the cage ... a toilet too ... and two hard metal platforms that would serve as beds.
The group of soldiers finally moved on, but Dr. Lemke lingered. Then suddenly, as if coming to a decision, he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a bottle. He read the label and smiled. "Here," he said, tossing it through the bars. "I've been told you'll be needing this." Alec automatically caught the container and turned it so Max could see the contents. Tryptophan.
Which finally confirmed what Alec had already begun to suspect. Lydecker was in on this somehow. How else would these goofs know of their vital need for tryptophan? For some reason the former Manticore colonel wanted him and Max inside this military facility -- and he wanted them to stay alive.
"I'm thinking we should cross old Donald off our Christmas card list this year," Alec muttered under his breath as he and Max shared a handful of the tablets. It had been almost two days since they'd had their doses and a few extra pills were in order.
"You believe this is all his doing?" Max asked. "Even our capture? Or did he get wind of us being in here and this is his way of keeping us safe?"
Alec shrugged. "Could be either. We were on a job for Deck so I can't see why he'd betray us. But with him you never know. Maybe the heist of that software was a red herring and this," he looked around the cage, "is our real assignment."
"But what does he want us to do?" Max asked, inching away to lean back against the bars again
There was a camera high in the corner, probably a microphone too. Alec lowered his voice knowing Max would still hear. "These are human soldiers," he said. "Not Familiars. Not Father's clones. They seem to be hard core, probably black ops, maybe recruited out of this prison we're in. The dregs of the dregs so to speak. Maybe these are Lydecker's guys. But what he wants us to do in here is beyond me. If he wanted us to help train humans he could have just asked. It's more like we're some kind of prey, something to be chased like dogs chase a fox." He let his head fall back against the bars and sighed. "I don't like it. Especially not with you carryin'."
"Lydecker didn't know about the baby," Max pointed out.
"But he does now, if it's Lydecker that is. That doc would've told him. And what if something goes wrong and Lydecker loses control. Then it's back to surgery for both of us according to McKinley's orders." On that last note, Alec glared up at the camera, hoping their old nemesis was indeed watching.
*****
They'd been trying to sleep, or at least Alec had been, curled up on the hard metal slab of a bed. The hour was late, probably close to midnight, and it surprised him that there was so much noise in the building. Not too far away he could hear men shouting and screaming, sometimes cheering, like they were watching a sporting contest.
"I wonder what's going on?" Max said.
Alec shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."
Just then the door at the end of their cell block opened letting a sharp beam of bright white light penetrate the dark hallway. Both transgenics squinted in the glare, Alec shielding his eyes, trying to see who it was.
Four men armed with heavy duty Tasers moved into the corridor and stopped outside their cage. The first had a set of keys that he used to unlock their door, then he gestured the others inside.
Max and Alec were already on their feet in fighting stances, but backed into a corner like they were the situation looked rather grim.
"Come with us, sweetheart," the first guard said to Max, gesturing with the shock prod. "Time to party."
Alec grabbed Max's hand and pulled her protectively behind him. "She's not in a party mood tonight boys," he said lightly, keeping his eyes on those Taser wands as his muscles coiled to strike. "She's not goin' anywhere."
He might have been able to tolerate one jolt, but when three of the prods struck him at one time Alec didn't have a chance.
*****
"Alec!" Max screamed his name as he violently jerked backwards to slam into the bars and slide unconscious to the floor. "Alec!" she cried out again, dropping to her knees beside him as his head lolled sideways. She wasn't sure he was breathing.
"You want a taste of what your boyfriend just got, kitty cat?" the guard said to her, pointing the Taser at her stomach. "Or are you going to be a nice pussy and come along?" He glanced down at Alec. "Or of course we could always give him another jolt, just for good measure." He touched Alec's neck with the prod, his finger on the trigger button. "Wonder how much it would take to fry that transgenic brain of his?"
"Don't," Max said quickly. "I'll come with you. Just leave him alone."
"That's more like it," the head guard grinned. "Don't worry baby, I think you're gonna enjoy what's about to happen."
*****
Max was preparing herself for the worst as she allowed the guards to shove her roughly out of the cell block and into another section of the prison. Alec ... Alec had to be all right. He had to be. Of course he'd be out of his mind with worry when he regained consciousness and she was gone, but at least she'd hopefully saved his life.
However, when a final door opened in front of her and she was pushed through into a bright circle of light Max realized her fears had been off base.
It was a cage fight. There was no other description for what was going on. In a wire-enclosed arena two soldiers were battling away at each other, blood and sweat flying, grunts and groans assailing her ears along with the sound of flesh impacting flesh. It wasn't a pretty site. Both combatants were incredibly battered and bruise. Bones had to be broken, including the smashed sideways nose of the bigger of the two soldiers. His opponent's eyes were so swollen Max doubted he could even see, and there were teeth lying on the canvas floor.
"You've got to be kidding," she said scathingly.
"What's the matter, kitty cat?" her guard said, grinning. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little fightin'."
"Not really," Max said honestly, her dark brows rising. She looked over the group of men surrounding the arena and actually smiled. "Bring it on."
And things just got better and better, at least so far as Max was concerned. Her opponent turned out to be a woman, one of the few female soldiers incarcerated at the prison, a six-foot-five, two hundred pound blonde that Max thought might have a few chromosome issues. "Big Bertha," as the announcer called her, gave Max a gap-toothed grin as the crowd around them cheered. Apparently this babe was a favorite.
Oh, Alec's gonna be so disappointed when he finds out he missed this little show, Max thought to herself as she stepped into the arena, suspecting her mate would absolutely love seeing his girl duking it out with a big-bossomed chic (although she never had understood why that kind of thing turned guys on).
"What, no Jello?" Max quipped as she watched Big Bertha circling her warily. "Maybe a little mud?" She glanced down at herself. "My t-shirt isn't even wet." She put up her fists, dancing lightly on her feet, ready for the charge she knew was going to come.
Max wasn't disappointed. With a primal scream, her opponent ran straight at her, arms outstretched, a look of pure hatred in her eyes. "Transgenic filth!" Bertha bellowed.
"Hey!" Max said. "You don't have to get personal!" And then she blurred.
Bertha crashed head first into the side of the cage, bounced off, and turned around dizzily, trying to spot Max. Her transgenic opponent, however, was still moving, circling, waiting for the perfect opening -- which soon arrived.
It was all way, way too easy. For the first time Max realized why Alec had gotten bored so quickly with his own cage fighting career. Humans were ... well, they were just human. Easy prey. No challenge. Two precisely placed uppercuts and Bertha toppled to the floor, beaten before she could so much as lay a finger on the "transgenic filth."
The utter silence in the cavernous room that followed frightened Max far more than anything had so far that night. Looking around, she was horribly aware of all those eyes on her, staring, judging ... The crowd was large, at least fifty men. If they turned on her, transgenic strength or not, she wouldn't have a chance.
But then the announcer cleared his throat, stepped forward, took hold of Max's hand and raised her arm into the air. "Soldiers!" he shouted. "We have a winner and new champion in the Ladies Division!" He leaned down and asked, "What's your nickname, sweetheart?"
"The Curvaceous Killer," Max replied almost automatically.
"The Curvaceous Killer!"
And the crowd went wild -- for her.