DISCLAIMER: All DARK ANGEL characters belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee (Cameron Eglee Productions) and DARK ANGEL itself belongs to FOX.
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The following story is based on characters created for the television series DARK ANGEL
(Episode 3)
Friends and Foes
By Valjean
This is a stand-alone story in my DARK ALEC series. These stories are my version of Season 4, and incorporate elements not only of the television show DARK ANGEL, but of the novels SKIN GAME and AFTER THE DARK, the book THE EYES ONLY DOSSIER, and information revealed in various cast/writer/producer interviews, chats, and commentaries. Part of the plot for this particular adventure was inspired by a 1999 LA FEMME NIKITA episode titled "I Remember Paris" that I've adapted as a Max/Alec adventure for the DARK ANGEL universe. (And yes, I'm picturing Matthew Ferguson as Lydecker's assistant, Manson.) -- author's note
*************************************
It was a wedding invitation. God ... damn.
Alec leaned back in his desk chair, propped tennis-shoed feet on his desk, and regarded the envelope that had just been delivered by a Jam Pony messenger. Then he shook his head in amusement.
"What's that?" Max quipped, moving up behind his shoulder.
She was in one of her "hat" moods, Alec saw, which meant he'd better watch out. He'd noticed long ago that when Max wore head gear, it usually signified a kick-ass attitude. "Nothin'," he said casually, trying not to set her off. "Just an invite to Normal's wedding."
Max's expression was priceless. "Normal? Our Normal's getting married?" She leaned over so she could see the card in Alec's hand. "Who's the unlucky bride?"
"Some chick named Casey Reed," Alec said, reading the formal type. He unfolded another piece of paper. "And -- get this -- we're also invited to the reception at The Young Republican's Hall afterwards."
"Lemme see that," Max said, snatching the invitation out of Alec's hand. She scowled as she read the envelope. "Hey! This is also addressed to me!"
"Alec McDowell and Max Guevera," Alec said. "Guy was too cheap to spring for separate invites." He considered a moment, then added, "Although, you'd think Normal would wanna go for two gifts instead of one. This way you and me only hafta pony up for a single piece of that fancy china or silver he's probably got registered down at Walmart." The X5 glanced up at Max. "Or we could go with an appliance, say a nice toaster or maybe a waffle iron?"
"Why would he put both of our names on a single invitation?" Max wondered. "I mean, it's not like we're married or anything."
Alec shrugged. "Guess he considers us a couple." He reached out and picked up the Styrofoam cup of coffee he'd brought in with him from Gem's Diner that morning. Taking a sip of the now cold brew, he made a face, but craving the caffeine finished the rest with another gulp.
"We're not a couple," Max said with a slight shudder. She glanced out the open office door to make sure no one was near enough to overhear her. "I mean, just 'cause we work together--"
"--and sleep together," Alec reminded her.
Max shot him a look, then raised her chin. "I mean, it's not like we're boyfriend-girlfriend or dating or anything. We're friends ... family ... and ..."
"Hey," Alec said wryly. "Call it what you want, Max, but when you have sex with the same guy 'most every night and you're not payin' him for it then I think that meets the definition of 'couple'. Oh, and the 'I love you's' kind of give that impression too."
"No one knows we're like that," Max said, shaking her head in denial. Then her eyes narrowed. "Unless someone's been talkin' out of turn around here."
"I'm not the kind of guy who kisses and tells," Alec said adamently, acting the innocent. "But if you think Josh and Mole and Dix and Luke don't know the mayor and the alderman are shaggin' each other, then you need a reality check. Oh, and I'm sure you never, ever talk to O.C. about your sex life."
"How would the guys know?" Max asked indignantly, ignoring his O.C. jibe. "--unless you told them."
"How could they not know?" Alec shot back. "Max, we're together all the time. I mean, we don't go in for public displays of affection like walkin' around holdin' hands and hummin' romantic melodies, but I'm sure everyone around here knows you and me are paired off. And, more importantly, I think everyone's happy for us." He scowled. "What's the big deal? Or did you really wanna go as Sketchy's date to Normal's big wedding?"
"I don't want to go as anyone's date," Max said.
"All right then," Alec said. "But you'll be missin' out on seein' me in a fancy suit." He waggled his eyebrows. "People say I look pretty fine in Armani, Max."
"You really think we should go together?" she asked, apparently for some reason rather distressed by the idea. "As a couple?"
"Stop sayin' that like it's a disease," Alec replied. "And yes, I think we ought to go with one another and show the whole world just who's with who in Terminal City." He thought a moment. "Or is it whom?" His brow knit slightly as he pondered the grammatical point.
But it was Max's turn to scowl. "Getting a bit possessive are we?" she grumbled. "Next thing you know you'll be askin' me to marry you or some such nonsense."
"Marriage is for 'ordinaries'," Alec said levelly. "Not my kinda deal."
"Or mine," Max agreed wholeheartedly.
But as she said the words, Max was looking at him in a way Alec found strange -- almost as if she was sad about something.
Suddenly, his "significent other's" (for lack of a better word) cell phone rang.
"Hello," she said. "Yeah. We're available." She glanced at Alec. "When?" Another pause. "See you then."
"Lemme guess," Alec said after she'd hung up. "Lydecker?"
"Of course."
"And just how is the colonel gonna try 'n kill me this time?"
"I don't know. But we'll find out in the morning. Get packing." She pecked him on the cheek with her lips (since no one was looking), jauntily tipped the brim of her hat, and headed for the door, but then tossed back over her shoulder, "the jet leaves at ten tonight."
She hadn't bothered asking him if he wanted to go with her -- some things were just assumed between them now.
"Be there or be square as they say," Alec sighed as he looked wryly at the Terminal City Artworks Mall paperwork piled on his desk. "I need a secretary!" he called after Max.
"Can't afford one!" she yelled back at him.
"Great," Alec said tiredly, dropping his face into his hands, thinking about everything he wasn't going to get done now over the next couple of days. "Just ... great."
But duty called -- as did the excitement his soldier-nature craved, not to mention New Manticore's lucrative pay.
However, before he left for the week, Alec had something he wanted to do. Work piling up or not, he did have his priorities straight, and with Normal's wedding in the offing there was an important matter that had to be discussed with Sketchy.
*****
"Hey Sketch, my man!" Alec said to his friend as he sauntered into the Jam Pony Messenger Service. It had been a couple of months since the X5 had stopped by his old stomping grounds, but the place still seemed like a home away from home to him. Ah, nothing like the smell of sweaty bikers and Lysol spray to bring back those nostalgic memories.
Calvin Theodore, aka "Sketchy," was sitting over by the orange lockers. His dyed-blond hair hanging in his eyes, and his retro-punk outfit as hip as his language, the part-time World News Weekly reporter turned around at the sound of his name. "Alec!" he said, joyfully greeting the X5 with a high five. "What's happenin', dude?"
Alec glanced around, making sure there wasn't anyone too close (old habits die hard), then he tugged up the front of his green khaki slacks, straddled the bench to sit down, and said easily, "What's this I hear about our Normal tyin' the knot?"
"It's true," Sketchy said, the lanky biker shaking his head in obvious amazement. "Old 'Bip Bip' found someone to bop with."
Alec grinned. "Good for him." He lowered his voice, the impish gleam in the X5's golden green eyes making him look for all the world like a little boy about to steal cookies from the cookie jar. "But what I really stopped by for, Sketch, was to make a suggestion about the bachelor party." He winked. "You know, old Normal's pretty fond of the Blowfish Tavern. I bet I could get some of the ladies there to give him a truly private dance session." Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he waited for what he just knew would be Sketchy's gratitude for his help.
However, Sketchy wasn't smiling. "Uh, Alec," he said. "About the bachelor party ..."
"What about it?" Alec said, slapping his friend enthusiastically on the back. "You got some place better in mind? Well, let's hear it, my man! I'm always open to new ideas."
"Don't take this the wrong way, dude," Sketchy said, "or think that we're mad at you 'cause no one is, but ..."
"But what?" Alec said, holding both hands out in bewilderment, completely lost as to what the bike messenger was trying to say.
"You've been gone from here for almost a year now, Alec, and it was kind of agreed that Normal's bachelor party would be for Jam Pony employees only."
That didn't sound right to the X5. Something was fishy, and he wasn't thinking about the Blowfish Tavern (not to mention the fact that when someone began by saying "don't take this the wrong way we're not mad at you" it usually meant that they were mad at you).
"A bachelor party is for all of the groom's friends, right?" Alec said. "Or do I have it wrong? 'Ordinary' customs still sometimes elude me." He deliberately emphasized the "ordinary" because he was beginning to have an inkling what this was really about. Manticore had made him many things, but slow wasn't one of them.
"Usually it's like that, Alec but--"
"What's the real problem, Sketch?" Alec said, no longer smiling either.
"I think you know," Sketchy said quietly. "We just don't want any trouble."
"Trouble?"
"Dude, someone shot you down two months ago at a council meeting. Then there was that gang, the Furies, that ended up so very, very dead last Christmas. And people say you guys are stagin' heists all over town to--"
"Those are all lies," Alec interrupted, his voice now definitely cooling. "Well, except for the guy tryin' to kill me, but that was no big deal. People shoot me all the time. Good thing I'm a fast healer though." A faint smile flickered across his face. However, his attempt to lighten the mood wasn't working.
"That's just it," Sketchy said, pouncing on Alec's words. "Some of the people around here are really scared to be near you now, Alec. They think the transgenics are trouble."
"So, I'm not welcome at Normal's bachelor party," Alec said, "because of what I am, a transgenic?"
Sketchy had the decency to look down at the floor.
Alec could take a hint. "Okay then." he said easily, deliberately biting off the more choice words he felt like using. "See ya 'round then sometime, pal. If I can find a time when no one's shootin' at my transie ass."
The X5 rose to his feet, and, rather to his surprise, Sketchy let him leave without even trying to stop him. However, it wasn't until he reached his motorcycle parked in the alley outside that Alec realized the implication of what had just happened, and why his throat felt tight with emotion.
He'd not only just been blind-sided and insulted -- he'd also just lost a friend, something he had far too few of in the world. And it hurt ... bad.
*****
"Sometimes I feel like that dude in 'Mission Impossible'," Alec said lightly as he walked beside Max toward Lydecker's office in the wee hours of the next morning. "Those calls from 'Deck oughta begin 'Your mission, X5-494, should you decide to accept it ...'."
"You watch too much television," Max groused, but secretly she was smiling. Alec somehow always managed to do that to her -- make her smile even when she was on edge or feeling down. It was one of the things about him that had ultimately led to their wary friendship turning into ... something more.
Lydecker, sporting dark circles under his eyes and a five o'clock shadow, looked exactly the way a man pushing 50 should look at 3 a.m. in the morning -- like shit. Whatever the mission was, it must be important for the colonel to be losing his beauty sleep, Max thought.
"We have a situation in Tangiers," he said, as usual without preamble or the offer of any amenities like coffee.
"You're sending us to Africa?" Alec said, apparently mildly alarmed by the idea.
"What?" Max snapped. "You got a phobia about elephants or something?"
"Actually, it's camels," Alec shot back at her. "I once spent three weeks in Morocco on a mission, and our primary mode of transportation was camel-back. Believe me, Max, they're ugly, ugly creatures." He gave a mock shudder, then looked pointedly at Lydecker. "Tell me, no camels? Please?"
Lydecker ignored the chatty X5. Instead, he turned around his computer monitor so they could see the screen. "My regular kids are all deployed at the moment," he said, "and this situation came up rather suddenly. There's a U.N. office located in Tangiers that we think is a target of--"
Suddenly the office door burst open. Lydecker glared at the intruders, while both X5s instinctively dropped into a sparring stance.
 |
Major Davis Stendahl |
"What is it Stendahl?" the colonel barked as The Phoenix Group commander, Major Davis Stendahl, stepped into the room like he owned the place. "I'm in the middle of a briefing here!"
A man of tall stature with iron grey hair styled in a close-shaved military crew-cut, an aquiline nose, and molten metal eyes, the major regarded his fellow officer with a nasty smile. And he hadn't come alone. Crowding the hallway behind him were a contingency of at least a dozen soldiers. "Take him," he ordered, pointing a finger at Alec. "Dr. Milano in neuro-psych is waiting on level seven."
"What the hell is this?" Lydecker roared, jumping to his feet behind his desk as Max and Alec automatically took up back-to-back positions, their fists at ready. Although unarmed, that didn't mean they wouldn't be fighting.
However, all at once there was the whine of a generator winding, and without any warning at all several Taser prongs shot through the air striking both of the X5s. Max fell onto Lydecker's desk, quivering, her eyes rolling back in her head as the current rendered her nervous system useless. Sliding off the desktop in a seizure, she pulled the computer monitor crashing to the floor with her before blacking out completely.
Alec lasted a few seconds longer, lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl of rage, he charged their attackers in spite of two sets of Taser darts embedded in his back and side. It was Stendahl himself who fired the third round of electric-tipped barbs directly into the X5's chest, finally bringing the transgenic down to lie twitching at his feet.
*****
For for an absurd second Lydecker actually thought the major was going to plant a triumphant foot on top of the young male X5's spasming body -- the hunter proclaiming his victory over a trophy kill -- a notion that sickened him. My "kids" are so much more than mere animals ...
At that moment, the colonel was tempted to reach for the 9 millimeter automatic pistol he kept in a top desk drawer, but common sense won out over emotion. There were too many damn soldiers in the room to risk playing hero tonight.
Instead, he drew himself up to his full height and regarded Davis Stendahl with steely blue eyes.
The major threw a document down on the desk. "I've been given custody of X5-494," he said. "By orders of the Committee. The Unit's screwed up one time too many. I read the report on the Saul assassination, and that was the last straw. He's my meat now." He looked over at Max's unconscious body. "And before you argue, just count yourself lucky I'm not here for the female as well. But right now we need just one more good soldier to fill out a special experimental platoon, and 494's my choice for the detail."
"What experimental platoon?" Lydecker said. "And the Committee doesn't have jurisdiction over the X5s in Terminal City anyway. You have no right to this one."
Stendahl's smile equaled Lydecker's at its most icy. "The X5-Unit's not in Seattle right now, is he, colonel? He's here, on my turf. As for your question, it's a platoon of X series soldiers who will finally operate as they were created to -- flawlessly obedient, untainted by emotions, their only purpose in life to serve their masters. Oh, and the implants we have in mind for 494 will also improve his efficiency in battle. Those good X5 genetics of his make him a perfect candidate for nanocyte technology and robotic limbs. But don't feel sorry for the boy. That won't happen until he's been completely reprogrammed. In a week or two he won't mind a bit when the surgeons cut off his arms and legs."
"You're creating a platoon of cyborgs?" Lydecker said, his skin paling, aghast at the thought of his precious kids becoming fodder for the scalpel-happy scientists back at Phoenix. "How many have you already done this to?"
"Not enough," Stendahl said. "Which is why I'm out collecting." He looked down at Alec's unconscious form on the floor, then gestured to his men. "Take him to neuro-psych on level seven," he said. "And tell them to get started right away. I want a clean slate to work with as soon as possible so we can ship him back to HQ for physical reconstruction."
"You're going to wipe his mind," Lydecker said grimly. "Like erasing the hard drive of a computer."
"Not completely," Stendahl said amiably as two of his men moved forward to lift Alec's limp body. "Just his personality, personal memories, and emotions. His skills should remain fundamentally intact, as will his ability to learn. Wouldn't want to ruin that high I.Q. now would we?" He glanced over at Max. "You know, I do hope the boy had a good romp with her the last time they were together. Because he'll never be with her that way again." The cruel smile was back as he added, "Oh, I might loan him out to you for breeding purposes someday. That part of him we'll leave intact. But 452 won't mean anything more to him than the others he'll stand stud for on command."
"You sick bastard," Lydecker said hoarsely, at last reaching for his gun. But Stendahl was there before him, his big hand pinning the colonel's wrist to the desk.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, 'Deck," he said with a rabid gleam in his eye. "I mean, it's just one animal. It's not like that thing on the floor is human, and it's certainly not worth throwing your life away over -- again."
With extreme effort, Lydecker got himself under control. "You're right," he said stiffly. "494's not worth it. He never has been. He was a failure at deep-cover and marginal as a combat field operative." He gestured toward the door. "Take him. As far as I'm concerned, the boy's all yours."
The colonel then watched dispassionately as the regular soldiers dragged X5-494 away. However, the second Stendahl and his men left his office, the New Manticore CEO was on the phone.
"Hello," he said into the receiver. "Get me Paul Charvel of Homeland Security, and I don't care if it is four o'clock in the morning. I have a situation."
*****
"What you're asking me to do isn't wise," a voice said. "Not if you want this soldier alive."
Alec didn't want to open his eyes. His lids felt as if they were being pulled down by lead weights, and his head was pounding like hell. But he knew he had to ... that if he didn't he might never open them again.
"You have your orders!" Stendahl said (Alec recognized that voice). "Do it! Give him the injection!"
Bright light pierced his pupils as Alec forced his eyes open. Instinctively, he tried to shield his face, but he couldn't raise his hand. Looking down, he saw that he was lying on a tiltable gurney, his wrists, waist, and legs firmly strapped down. He was barefoot but they'd left him in his clothes, although his grey t-shirt was clammy with sweat. However, it wasn't his wardrobe that had the X5 concerned -- it was the I.V. lines running into both of his arms. They were going to do something to him ... maybe even already had ...
"He's too heavily sedated," Dr. Milano practically squeaked.
The medic was a thin "ordinary" with glasses, acne, and a blond goatee who's shaking hands made Alec suspect this wasn't one of Manticore's best or brightest, but rather a lackey Stendahl had been able to frighten into helping him.
"If you'd wanted him injected with the T-39," the doctor argued, "we shouldn't have given him all that Phenobarbitol and sodium pentathol. Now, we need to let him alone for a few hours so his bio- systems can filter the drugs out. An X5's kidneys are extremely effecient, but it will still take a little time for his blood to clean up enough so the T-39 doesn't cause a neural overload."
Stendahl noticed his captive was awake. "He doesn't look very sedated to me," the major said. "Glad you could join us, X5-494," he added. "I was hoping I could explain exactly what we're going to do to you before you, quite literally, lose your mind."
"Why?" Alec rasped, his throat incredibly dry and scratchy. "Why me?"
"Truth?" Stendahl said, moving closer to his victim so he could look directly into Alec's wide alarmed eyes. "Because you're a screw-up, soldier. You always have been. I've reviewed your record numerous times. Even as a private you were always having disciplinary problems, and then on your first deep-cover mission you went rogue ... tried to save your mark's life--"
"Rachel was an innocent!" Alec said hoarsely. "You had no right to order her killed too!"
"Still argumentative?" Stendahl said. "And after ... how many is it? ... two reindoctrinations? Your memory is quite remarkable, 494, allowing you to recall so much about the Berrisford Mission even following the neural-laser treatment that should have banished all of that from your mind." He nodded to the medic. "Yes, I think the T-39 truly is the only course of action for this Unit. We need to tame him -- permanently."
"What's T-39?" Alec asked. The room was spinning -- the sedative he supposed -- and he felt more than a little bit sick on his stomach, not to mention he ached from head to toe after that intense Taser jolt.
"An experimental drug," Stendahl said coldly. "It's a limbic destroyer. One massive dose, and within an hour your personality will cease to exist, as will most of your memory and your ability to feel emotion -- a chemical lobotomy so to speak."
"In other words, Alec will be gone forever," a new voice said in the room, "although the empty shell of X5-494 will survive to be reprogrammed and refitted as one of your damn robots."
Alec's head whipped around and he stared at the door where Donald Lydecker stood. "Colonel--" he croaked.
"Shut up," Lydecker said coldly. "I told you this would happen -- that you and Max would play the odds once too often. Now, it's time to pay up."
"Come to watch the procedure after all?" Stendahl asked.
"Something like that," Lydecker replied. He continued regarding the shackled soldier. "Have you administered the drug yet?"
"I was just about to," the major said.
"Over my objections," Dr. Milano chimed in. "This Unit is too heavily sedated. There's an extreme danger of neural overload, especially with the X5s' susceptibility to seizures. His heart could stop.
"Give me that!" Stendahl snarled, losing his patience. He grabbed the hypodermic needle from the medic and grasped Alec's bare forearm.
"No!" Alec shouted, appearing to lose what little composure he had left. "Wait! Please wait!" He looked at Lydecker. "Can I see her one last time? To say goodbye? You owe us that at least, don't you?"
However, X5 soldiers don't panic easily. As he pleaded, Alec was quietly pulling on the strap holding his left arm down -- the arm Stendahl didn't have hold of. But it was no use. He was too weak from the drugs they'd already given him. He just didn't have the strength this time ... Even as he fought, his eyelids were growing heavy again and he felt his consciousness slipping. But he knew that if he let go ... if he fell into that soft blackness ... it would be forever. Stendahl would shoot that junk into his vein, his brain cells would fry, and he'd be lost to Max forever.
"You can't see her now," Lydecker said, seemingly from very far away. Then, surprisingly, his voice softened. "But maybe later."
"There won't be any later for him," Stendahl spat.
"Why not?" Lydecker said. "After all, they're a breeding pair, and you know how important it is to the Committee that the X5s mate and have offspring."
"That can be accomplished in other ways," the major said. "Like I said, he can still be put to stud. He doesn't need a mind in order to fuck." A wicked grin. "Although, I'm not sure how romantic 452 will feel when her lover embraces her with dead eyes and cold cyborg limbs."
"What?" Alec cried out. "What are you talkin' about?" (A sudden creepy vision of Logan in his exoskeleton making love to Max rose hideously in Alec's mind. He'd always wondered about that aspect of Max and Logan's relationship ... But of course he'd never asked.)
"Like they did to Zack," Lydecker explained. "Only much, much worse. They're going to erase your mind, son, and then they're going to cut you up."
"Like hell they will!" Alec roared, fighting with all his strength now against the straps holding him down.
Stendahl's grip on his arm tightened, and the needle pricked his skin. "One shot and it will all be over," the major said.
"No!" Alec screamed. "No! Don't! Please don't!" He was thrashing now, jaw clenched, teeth gritting as he struggled, X5 composure forgotten as his raw instinct for survival took over.
"I agree," Lydecker said, raising his voice to be heard above the X5's frantic pleas. "Don't."
Stendahl paused with the large gauge needle just touching the soft skin of Alec's inner forearm, and looked at his fellow officer strangely.
Which is when the colonel took a document out of his jacket pocket. "Now it's my turn to pull rank," Lydecker said quietly. "This is an order from Paul Charvel. You know him, don't you, Davis? Director of Homeland Security?"
The major was staring at him now.
"I've just been granted ultimate authority and jurisdiction over all X series soldiers, both at our base, and inside Terminal City. 494 is an X5, therefore he's directly under my command, and my command only. You have no right to take him for your experiments, any more than you have a right to take any of my other kids, their predecessors, their descendants, or their progeny." He threw the document down on the gurney between Alec's legs. "In other words, this meat's mine!"
Which is when the grand mal seizure hit Alec with its full hellish force. Spine arching, his limbs going rigid in agony, the impact of the neural overload threw the X5 into blessed unconsciousness just as he felt the needle pierce his skin.
*****
"I have a gift for you," Lydecker said, his normally gruff voice surprisingly gentle.
Max turned over in bed and focused bleary eyes on the man standing in the doorway. Her head hurt like hell, and she felt as weak as a kitten -- after effects from the Taser she supposed. All she really remembered was being carried here and the colonel telling her he was sorry about Alec.
Alec ...
"Where is he?" Max said, sitting up as memory returned with painful clarity. "Where's Alec? If you bastards have--"
"Stendahl wanted 494 for his 'special' platoon," Lydecker said. He gestured to his men in the hallway. "Luckily, I had enough clout to intervene. This time."
Two soldiers dragged Alec's unconscious body into the room and dumped him rather unceremoniously on the other bed.
"Don't ever say I haven't done anything for you, Max," Lydecker reminded her as he motioned for his men to leave.
Max was already at Alec's side, her hand on his face, touching his cheek. The X5 was breathing normally, but appeared to be out cold. She turned fearful eyes to her commander. "Did they do anything to him?" she asked in a hushed tone of voice, afraid of the answer.
"I don't think so," Lydecker said, his own voice once more not unkind. "I was just in time. Homeland Security's granted me authority over the X series. Stendahl was going to inject him with the same drug we used to reprogram Brin, only a much larger dose -- an attempt to quickly wipe the slate clean, so to speak. If I'd been five minutes later--" Lydecker held onto Max's eyes for a moment, "--he'd have been gone. Irretrievable. As it is, he's been heavily sedated, and he had a nasty seizure. I imagine he'll be under for awhile and when he wakes up he's gonna feel like crap."
Max, on her knees beside Alec's bed, buried her face against her lover's shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered so low she didn't even know if the colonel could hear her. "Thank you for getting him back for me."
"You're welcome," Lydecker said as he closed the door and left the two X5s alone.
*****
He awoke to the sensation of someone running cool fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, and when he opened his eyes Max was looking down at him.
"Hey," she said softly with a little smile. "Welcome back, smart-ass."
Alec's brow furrowed as he tried to remember -- and then suddenly he did, and his heart began to beat faster.
"Shhh," Max soothed him. "You're all right. Lydecker got you away from Stendahl in time. You're safe."
"Did they ... did they do anything to me?" He still couldn't talk very well, and he was also feeling awfully sick on his stomach.
"We don't think so," Max said. Then she amended that. "No. You're fine. And for now Stendahl can't touch you or me or any of us. Lydecker's got formal authority over the X series soldiers."
"And that's a good thing?" Alec had to ask. Then ... "Max -- I'm gonna throw up." Pushing aside the light blanket covering him, Alec scrambled out of the bed and threw himself into the small bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he heaved.
Max stood in the doorway watching sympathetically. After a minute or so the worst was temporarily over, but Alec had a feeling there was "more to come." Shivering with chills, he lay down on the tile floor by the commode, rested his head on his hands, and closed his eyes.
"Do you want me to help you back to bed?" Max asked as she knelt beside him.
"No," Alec mumbled thickly. "I need to stay here for awhile."
She brought him a pillow, and the blanket to help stave off the chills -- and that's where both X5s spent the rest of the night -- huddled together on the cold cement floor of a New Manticore john while 494's genetics slowly helped his badly insulted bio-systems recover.
*****
"What about the Tangiers Mission?" Alec asked.
Dawn had broken two hours before, and along with it his fever. Recovering quickly once the drugs were out of his system, Alec had finally slept for awhile, but was now wide awake and sipping his third cup of tea, craving liquid to replenish the massive amount of fluid he'd lost. Thankfully, he was keeping it down, eliminating the need for I.V.s to alleviate dehydration.
"Lydecker pulled someone off another detail for it," Max said. She handed him a saltine cracker. "Eat," she ordered. "You need to get your strength back."
"And Stendahl?"
Max shrugged. "Gone back to Phoenix, wherever they're located."
"So we're just goin' home now?"
Max shrugged again. "Guess so. Personally, I don't wanna see this place again for a long time."
"I second that," Alec said, looking up at her from beneath dark lashes. "Every time I set foot on this base someone tries to kill me."
"Maybe it's one of your gifts," Max said with a little smile.
"You're insulting me again," Alec quipped. "Which means I really must be better."
She slapped him on top of the head, lightly. "Eat the cracker."
"Yes, mam." He obliged by taking a small bit of the saltine, which actually tasted pretty good.
*****
By noon Alec was recovered enough to travel, and both he and Max couldn't wait to get back to Seattle.
Standing in Lydecker's office, dressed in black jeans and t-shirt, and with a leather jacket draped over his arm (clothes he'd brought with him for the mission), Alec took a deep breath, looked the colonel square in the eye, and said, "Thank you. You saved me last night. You're still a son of a bitch, a liar, and an all-around bad guy -- and this doesn't begin to make up for all the crap you put me through during my lifetime at Manticore -- but thank you."
"Well said," Max murmured by his side. Then she took hold of his arm. "Now let's go home. I've got a dress to buy for a wedding, and you need to see about getting that Armani suit."
Lydecker raised a grizzled eyebrow, and was about to ask, when suddenly a muted two-tone alarm began to chime in the room.
"What's that?" Max said, looking up and around.
Alec knew. "Intruder alert," he said, his brow creasing. "Enemy infiltration on the base." He looked to the colonel who nodded in confirmation as his hands flew over the keyboard of his terminal.
The X5s moved around the desk to peer over their commander's shoulder at the data. "Who and where?" Alec asked in a low voice.
"It's a prisoner who's escaped," Lydecker said, reading the intel. He thumbed the intercom on his desk. "Manson, what's going on?"
"A hostile we brought in for interrogation got out of his restraints and jumped the doctor who was working on him."
Alec winced, all too easily picturing what "working on him" meant.
 |
Sergeant Derek Manson |
"He's loose in the compound," Manson continued. "We're having trouble pinpointing his position."
"What hostile?" Max asked.
"A member of the South African Reds," Lydecker said grimly. "They're still after Manticore bio-synth technology in a big way and we've been trying to keep close tabs on their operations."
"You've got a Red soldier loose in here?" Max said, her voice tinged with alarm.
"Not a soldier," Lydecker said. "One of their middle-men, Hans Gruder. We'd hoped he could give us their lab's location."
"So, what's the problem?" Alec asked. "Just have your soldiers pick him up."
"It's a big base," Lydecker spat, slamming a hand down on his desk. "We've got fifteen levels not counting the above-ground buildings."
"You've got X7s," Alec said. "Just set the creepy kids loose and let 'em play. Your 'intruder' will be dog meat within half an hour."
"My X7 squad was deployed three hours ago," Lydecker said with a heavy sigh. He raised eyes to the two X5s. "I sent them to back up my ordinary soldiers in Tangiers. That mission couldn't wait."
"Devon?" Alec asked.
"The Vatican."
"Don't tell me you're goin' after the Pope again?" Max exclaimed.
"No," the colonel replied with a tiny smile. "On the contrary. We've been ordered to protect Marcus I."
"Let me get this straight," Alec said. "The New Manticore base doesn't have any Manticore soldiers on it right now?"
Lydecker clenched his jaw. "No," he finally admitted. "Stendahl's bled us dry lately, which is one reason I've been glad to keep Terminal City up and running. Except for the infants on the nursery level, and some genetically messed up X6s, we're tapped out of super soldiers -- unless of course you count the pieces of X5s in cryo storage on Level 13."
"Sir," Manson's voice crackled over the intercom. "Gruder has killed three of our regular team. We're trying to get a fix on his location now, but he's on the move. It looks like he may be attempting to send an outside communication. Some of our subsystems have been breached."
Alec looked at Max. As usual, they were on the same wavelength. She nodded. "How can we help?" he said quietly.
*****
"Get a weapon from the armory," Lydecker said. Five more minutes had passed and the prisoner was still wrecking havoc on the base.
"No time," Alec replied as he watched the data streaming across the screen. He glanced up at Max. "Gruder's on Level Nine -- at least that's where someone's tryin' to tap into the core computer."
"Let's go," Max said, moving toward the door.
Alec's hand on her arm stopped her. "No," he said. "This could all be a decoy. What if he doubles back here?"
"And tries to take out him?" Max said, pointing her thumb at Lydecker.
Alec lowered his voice. "We don't wanna lose our only ally in here do we?"
"You've got a point," Max said.
"Don't worry about me," Lydecker said, pulling the 9 millimeter pistol out of his desk.
"No," Max said. "Alec's right. Like it or not, you're necessary to us right now. One of us stays here. The other goes hunting."
"Then take this," Lydecker said, holding out the gun to Alec.
The X5 hesitated a moment, then waved the offering away. "You might need it more here than I do," he said. "I'll be fine."
Now it was Max's turn to grab his arm. "You just threw up fourteen times, Alec," she whispered.
"You counted?" he said, doing a doubletake.
Max ignored him. "You're not in shape for this," she said. "You stay with 'Deck. I'll take care of our Red sympathizer."
But Alec was having none of it. "I need the exercise, Maxie," he said with a sly grin. Truth was, he didn't want to think about Max confronting an unknown hostile by herself on unfamiliar turf with no back-up. She wasn't trained for that kind of situation. On the other hand -- he was.
"Let him go," Lydecker said to Max. "He can handle it."
"But--" she sputtered.
"Just go!" the colonel said to Alec harshly.
"Be careful!" Max called after him as Alec grabbed a miniature transceiver out of the desk drawer and pressed it into place behind his right ear.
Alec looked back from the doorway, hanging a moment on the frame. "Always," he said with that cocky smile, and then he sprinted for the stairs.
*****
The target was still on Level 9 according to data from New Manticore's control center, most likely getting into the restricted area using a key card taken from one of the dead soldiers.
Alec knew that using the elelvator would give his position away, so that meant going down nine flights of stairs on foot. Moving swiftly, but not running, he descended the stairwell in catlike silence until he reached Level 9 where he placed his palm against the access panel. "X5-494 DNA confirmed," the small screen blinked. Nice of 'Deck to grant his top operatives security clearance via their DNA imprint, Alec thought smugly as the door clicked open. Who needs a frickin' key card anyway?
The level was quiet ... too quiet. Alec had taken no more than 20 steps down the corridor when he rounded a corner and saw why. Three technicians were lying on the floor, one man, two women. Bending down, the X5 quickly checked for a pulse and found none. From what he could tell, the females had been strangled, and the man had a broken neck. Red soldier or not, whoever this William Gruder was he was strong as well as ruthless.
There was a sound up ahead. "He's here," Alec said quietly into the mic. "Close off the level."
"I can have back-up there in less than a minute," Lydecker said in his ear.
"No time," Alec said. "Close it off now."
From both ends of the sub-floor there was the sound of machinery grinding as heavy metal doors slid into place sealing off the egresses, including the air shafts.
The area Alec was traversing was relatively open, a maintenance level for the most part with just a couple of labs to one side along with a series of cell blocks. The primary corridor was lined with pipes and electrical conduit, the lighting dim but more than adequate for the X5's cat-eyes and other enhanced senses. Suddenly, he heard a sound up ahead. Stealthily Alec crept down the hall, his back against the wall. Maybe I should have taken Lydecker up on his offer of the gun, he thought, for the first time feeling a little bit nervous. He didn't like not being able to see his quarry ... not knowing exactly what he was up against.
"494!" Lydecker's voice chirped in his ear. "There's a transmission going out. Stop him!"
Throwing caution to the wind, Alec stepped into the open and moved swiftly forward, his purpose now set, his fate sealed. He rounded a last corner and saw Gruder. The South African was kneeling on the floor beside an open panel in the wall where he was attaching wires to a control module that he'd probably taken from one of the dead technicians.
*****
 |
Hans Gruder |
Hans Gruder glanced up, saw what could only be an X5-Unit approaching, and his face blanched. The creature's lean lithe muscles rippled beneath black t-shirt and jeans as it walked silently toward him with the impassive expression, determination, and complete confidence of a well-trained, genetically enhanced killer -- the very thing his own people, the South Africans, so very much desired to create themselves.
But it was those eyes that terrified him the most. Belying the X5's beautiful human features, they glowed preternaturally green in the gloom like a hungry panther's.
Knowing he was already a dead man, Gruder frantically fumbled with the PDA he'd stolen, rapidly pressing the small keyboard.
*****
 |
X5-494 |
494's keen hazel eyes zeroed in on the target, pupils dilating as adrenalin poured into his bloodstream. Then -- he blurred.
Gruder rose to his feet and struck viciously at his attacker's throat with a knife hand blow meant to kill, but the X5 merely grabbed hold of the human's arm -- and broke it. The South African screamed with pain, and then, his face contorting with terror, Gruder saw his own death reflected in those feral green eyes and hungry smile as the Manticore Unit did what it had been created to do.
494's single punch to the man's chest splintered Gruder's sternum and crushed his heart.
"The hostile's dead," Alec said dispassionately into the mic as he looked down with surprising calmness at the corpse lying at his feet -- and then he saw the PDA. Picking up the module, he yanked out the wires connecting it to the circuitry in the wall. However, it looked to him like whatever information Gruder had accessed might already have been sent.
"He transmitted something," Alec said to Lydecker. Then he glanced at the body once more and sighed heavily. "You'd better find out what."
*****
"My God," Lydecker said in a hushed voice as he read on his computer screen just what Hans Gruder had given to his South African compatriots.
"What?" Max said. "What is it?"
Alec was looking over Lydecker's shoulder trying to make sense of the files he saw streaming by.
The colonel closed his eyes, and for a moment appeared far older than his 50 years. "They've got our main data base," he said. Then he looked up at the two X5s. "That's it. We're finished. New Manticore's gone, and so are all of you."
"What are you talking about?" Max demanded harshly. Only Alec's hand on her shoulder kept her from physically grabbing hold of the colonel.
"We'll be exposed to the world," Lydecker said. "All of our research, all of the data we have on your kind, all of our mission parameters and ongoing projects ... even the locations of our people and this base. Everything was on that registry that he just sent."
"What will the Committee do?" Alec asked, although he had a pretty good idea considering what had happened the last time Manticore's secrets had been exposed.
"Scorched earth policy," Lydecker said simply. "There are standing orders that, if something like this happens, we're to destroy everything then deny it ever existed."
"That doesn't make sense," Alec said. "The whole world knows we exist."
"But the whole world doesn't know the super-soldier program is still going forward," the colonel said. He turned to Max. "The two of you need to leave ... now. Go back to Terminal City and get on with your lives. So far as you're concerned, Manticore is dead and buried. I'll do what I can to get the Committee to leave you alone in Seattle. Maybe they'll listen to reason and let you live."
"And maybe they'll send in the Army to wipe us out like they wanted to a year ago," Max said darkly. She was shaking her head, her long brown hair swinging in her eyes.
Sergeant Derek Manson, Lydecker's assistant, poked his head in the door. "Excuse me, colonel," he said.
At first glance, Manson seemed a geeky guy to Alec complete with lab coat, crew cut, and pocket protector -- but there was an intelligence glittering in the blue-grey eyes behind those glasses that made the X5 sit up and take notice.
"What?" Lydecker barked.
"You may want to hold off on notifying the Committee."
"Why?"
"I just checked the data Gruder uploaded," the sergeant said. "He grabbed the first layer from off the main server, which means its heavily encrypted."
"Will the South Africans be able to break the code?" Lydecker asked.
Alec and Max were looking at the sergeant intently, knowing their lives hung in the balance with his answer.
"Yes," Manson said.
Alec's shoulders slumped.
"But it's going to take them awhile."
"Define 'awhile'!" Lydecker snapped.
Manson shrugged. "Three days."
"Pull every X5 you have out of the field and send 'em to this lab or wherever the South Africans are," Alec said, in a low voice to Lydecker. "You know we can do it. Just give our guys the right intel and you'll get your data base back without the Committee ever knowin' how badly we were fucked."
"You can't do that, sir," Manson chirped.
"Why the hell not?" Max demanded angrily, turning blazing eyes on the assistant.
But Manson was well used to dealing with haughty, volatile X5s. He wasn't intimidated. "Because part of the data wasn't encrypted," he said slowly, as if speaking to a child.
"What part?" Alec asked, his brow furrowing.
"All of our frequencies are cataloged right at the beginning of the database. They'll know if we contact our Units in the field and be able to pinpoint their locations even before cracking the rest of the data. It will endanger all of our people, as well as make any sneak attack on their home base -- if we can locate it -- futile."
"So we're deaf, dumb, and blind," Lydecker said.
"Yeah," Alec agreed. "But we've still got three days." He looked at Max, then back to the colonel. "What do you have on this Hans Gruder guy? Any way of trackin' him back to the Reds primary location? 'Cause if we can find it you've got all the transgenic firepower you need back in Terminal City. Just give us the 'where' and we'll take 'em out before they can crack the data base. Then everyone will go home happy."
"He's a third party," Lydecker said. "We were hoping to get information from him when he got away from us. "Apparently his real mission all along was to escape inside Manticore and transmit our intel to his people."
"Who hired him?" Max asked. "I mean specifically."
"A man named Eric Hayden," Manson said. "That's really all we could back trace on Gruder."
"Any leads on Hayden?" Max asked, her voice sounding a bit desperate.
"One," Manson replied, checking his computer panel. "The info came up on a random generic search. He's affiliated with an art studio in Seattle, a benefactor and patron. The Nylon Gallery might have a way to contact him since he's such a good customer."
Alec stared at Max, who was staring back at him -- but both X5s kept their mouths shut. This was very dangerous ground they were walking on, and the last thing they wanted to do was to get their friend Rita in trouble. But that was her gallery Manson had just named, which meant they had to do something.
"Come with me," Lydecker said, grabbing Alec's arm.
"Where?" the X5 said, jerking away and regarding the older man suspiciously.
"Seattle," the colonel replied as he parked the 9 millimeter in his shoulder holster. He eyed the transgenic. "Do you need a weapon?"
"For sure. But I can get all the weapons I need back at TC," Alec said, still not quite understanding. "And wouldn't it be quicker to just make a phone call to Dix and have some of the boys go track down Hayden's info?"
"We need to keep this very quiet," Lydecker said. "The fewer who know the data base is compromised, the safer it will be for your kind." Grizzled eyebrows rose as he gave Alec the once-over from head to toe. "Are you up to this soldier? Because I need a Unit I can count on for this mission. You're certainly not my first choice, but under the circumstances, you're far better than nothing."
"Gee thanks," Alec said dryly. "And yeah, give me a good meal to get my blood sugar outta my socks, and I'm fit to go. But what about Max?" He pointed his chin at his significant other.
"I'm thinking you want me to stay here and hold the fort," Max said, quickly seeing the big picture, although obviously uncertain about Alec's role in this whole deal. "While the two of you go play secret agent man."
"Now, you're being a team player," Lydecker said with satisfaction shining in his cool blue eyes.
"Don't get all sentimental about it," Max said nastily. "You're still a bad word in my book, Lydecker." But then her voice softened just a little bit. "However, you've got a good point. Right now we're all in this together." She turned to Alec. "Be careful. With everything. And don't screw up like you usually do."
"I'll handle it, Max," Alec said with more confidence than he felt, and out of habit ignoring her dig. Damn, he hated it that his friend Rita was going to be in the middle of his drama, but at the moment there didn't seem to be any other way. They had to get that data base back.
*****
"I'll handle it," Alec said, echoing his earlier words to Max as he and Lydecker stood on the front steps of the Nylon Art Gallery in Seattle the next morning. "Like I told you on the plane, I know one of the owners pretty well and she'll help me if we don't go all Terminator on her or anything." The X5 had slept most of the trip, but the two -- man and transgenic -- had engaged in a strategy session shortly before landing.
"You've got ten minutes," the colonel said. "If you can't gain Ms. D'Angelo's cooperation by then, we do it my way."
Alec nodded, but Lydecker caught hold of the sleeve of the X5's black leather jacket as he turned to go up the steps. "Remember, this is a mission, 494," the colonel warned. "She's not your friend today. She's an assignment. 'Screw up' as Max puts it, and you'll be the one paying the price."
"It's so nice you have such faith in me," Alec cracked back with a fuck-authority sneer on his lips. Hazel-green eyes narrowed dangerously for just a second, then the sneer transformed into a handsome smile. "Relax, 'Deck," he said easily, slapping the colonel on the back. "You know the lady will gladly tell me everything. After all, that's what I was built for, right? To knock chicks off their feet with my charm?"
Lydecker's reply was to pull his weapon from its shoulder holster and pointedly cock the gun.
Alec got the message. Enough with the humor. "I'll get the intel," he said quietly, then turned and bounded up the steps into the gallery.
*****
"Alec, I'm so glad you dropped by!" Rita D'Angelo cooed enthusiastically, her well-manicured hands fluttering in the air as she greeted one of her best suppliers. "That show in San Francisco may have fallen through, but I've received an inquiry from the Evans Gallery in Los Angeles. (She emphasized the name as if the L.A. establishment was run by deities.) They're interested in a one-man exhibit featuring none other than our Joshua. Isn't that exciting?"
"Yeah, it's exciting all right," Alec said too quickly. "But Rita, I need to ask you something. Do you know a man by the name of Eric Hayden? He's supposedly a big art lover who may be one of your more wealthy patrons."
"Eric?" Rita said, her big brown eyes lighting up at what appeared to be a chance to "name drop." "Of course I know Eric ... intimately you might say." She turned her head and gave a coy little laugh in case Alec had any doubt as to what that meant. "He's one of our most generous benefactors. In fact, I believe he's interested in purchasing a Joshua, if he can get what he believes to be a good deal."
"Great," Alec said, forcing a smile. He took hold of her shoulders and looked earnestly into those doe-eyes. "Ya see, Rita, it's like this. I really, really need to find this guy Hayden. So, you can give me an address, right?"
"Not on your life!" Rita retorted, changing in an instant from proudly embarrassed socialite to hard-as-nails businesswoman. "That information is strictly confidential." She eyed Alec. "Afterall, you wouldn't expect me to give out your home address would you?"
"You don't know my home address," Alec pointed out.
"Well," Rita fluttered, "that's beside the point. What I mean is that our clients are completely protected. Discretion is a cornerstone of this business."
"Rita," Alec said earnestly, his grip on her arms tightening. "I have to have Hayden's address, or at least a way to reach him. It's a matter of life and death. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
"No," Rita said adamantly, emphasizing the word by petulantly stomping an expensively clad foot on the marble floor. Then she pulled back, crossed her arms, and pointedly turned away.
"Please?" Alec wheedled. "It's for Joshua," he tried.
That got to her. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, the look in her eyes sympathetic. "Even if I wanted to," she finally said, "I don't have the information. Robert handles all of the correspondence with the patrons."
"Robert?" Alec said, pouncing on the name. "Robert Nylon, your invisible partner?"
Rita nodded.
"Then what was all that about your 'intimate' relationship with Hayden? You mean to say you don't know where the guy lives?"
The gallery owner blushed prettily. "I've never actually been to his house," she admitted. "We just meet occasionally for cocktails."
Personally, Alec had to wonder just what all 'cocktails' entailed, but that didn't really matter at the moment -- not if Rita truly didn't know the guy's home address."
"But Nylon's got the records, right?" he pushed. "Upstairs in his office maybe?" Alec's eyes traveled to the sweeping white staircase that supported the far end of the gallery.
"Yes," Rita said. "I suppose he would have records. But Robert's very busy today and he wouldn't want to be bothered. Maybe if you made an appointment, or came back tomorrow--"
"I'm afraid that's not possible," Donald Lydecker said as he jammed his gun into Rita's side. Glancing around the near empty gallery ground floor, the colonel noticed a young couple admiring a piece of sculpture. "Get out!" he shouted to them. "Now!" He then held up the gun.
As expected, the two art admirers scampered out the front door with a squeal.
Alec closed his eyes, jaw clenching. It wasn't going down as planned. In fact, the word "fubar" came to mind. "This isn't necessary," he said in a low voice to his CO.
Rita was watching both men with very wide round eyes. "Is this a robbery?" she stammered. (The look of betrayal she shot at Alec hurt like a bullet.)
"No," Alec said levelly. "It's ... nothing. We'll all just go upstairs and talk to Robert. He'll give us Hayden's address and then we'll leave."
"Get up the stairs," Lydecker ordered, giving Rita a brutal shove.
"Hey!" Alec shouted, grabbing hold of the colonel's wrist in a grip that came close to crushing bone. "Don't treat her like that!"
"Do you duty, 494!" Lydecker yelled. "You're forgetting which of us is the officer, and which of us is the soldier!"
Alec swallowed hard, knowing he had to keep his cool. Lydecker was a loose canon right now, and not making wise decisions. But the man was about to lose everything for the second (or was it the third?) time in his life, so it was probably no wonder he wasn't rowin' with all his oars in the water.
"Upstairs," Alec said quietly to Rita, nodding at the staircase. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."
"It doesn't feel that way," the woman said in a low voice as she led the way to the second floor.
*****
Donald Lydecker didn't like this situation one bit. He knew damn well how to get the information out of the female, but the X5-Unit was being stubborn. He should have known better than to trust a soldier flawed by a compassionate nature.
However, the colonel also wasn't a fool. X5-494 hadn't so much looked at him just now as he'd taken aim with his eyes. Compassionate or not, the transgenic was perfectly capable of killing his CO to protect this woman.
He might have to shoot the Unit before they were through, Lydecker thought with a slight pang of regret -- and after he'd just gone to so much trouble to save the kid's ass too ...
*****
 |
Robert Nylon
|
Robert Nylon was, to put it simply, a wealthy dilettante. Extremely handsome, debonair even, the black-haired, thirty-something son of a wealthy Seattle politician liked his martinis dry and his women "wet." In addition to running his art gallery, he was also something of a local fashion plate -- sporting designer label suits of the latest style, usually complimented by a silk scarf draped dramatically around his neck in a color designed to set off his turquoise eyes.
In the midst of checking the gallery's inventory on his computer, he looked up, startled, when three people suddenly burst into his office. Seeing the gun in one of the intruder's hands, he reached for the silent alarm beneath his desk, only to find his arm caught in a vice-like grip.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the young man in black leather said, having moved with beyond-human swiftness.
"Robert," Rita said, "all they want is Eric Hayden's address. Then they'll leave. It's not a robbery. They just need the information."
"No," Robert said adamantly.
"Then she's dead!" Lydecker spat, pressing the barrel of his pistol against Rita's temple.
At last the proud woman's composure broke and she began to cry, tears silently rolling down her cheeks and smudging her make-up.
It was more than Alec could take. "Hey!" he shouted at the colonel. "This isn't necessary. She's innocent. We don't need the collateral damage. We'll just get the address off of his computer."
But the X5 knew that Rita's life was hanging by a thread. Years of abuse and abusing others had hardened Lydecker to a point beyond human emotions. The colonel was perfectly capably of killing an innocent bystander to get Nylon's cooperation -- but not if Alec could help it. The X5 tensed to move when--
Robert Nylon's hand dove into his desk and he came up with a small derringer. Alec acted instantly, without even thinking, drawing the Glock pistol Mole had slipped him at the airport from the back of his jeans and shooting the gallery owner square in the middle of the chest.
Rita screamed as the shot echoed loudly in the office, and Nylon slumped forward over his computer terminal -- dead.
"There," Alec said coolly to Lydecker as he tucked the gun back into his waistband. "There isn't any reason to kill her now. So let's get the intel and leave."
For just a moment, Alec thought the colonel was going to put a bullet in him, or at least try. But then Lydecker shoved Rita away, lowered his own gun, and nodded, coming back to sanity. "Check the records," he growled. "But Hayden had better be on there or else she's going to die afterall, and not painlessly either."
"There are two sets of books," Rita said quickly, her voice shaking but staying in admirable control. "The gallery isn't doing very well financially and we keep certain sales hidden from the tax authority."
Alec nodded, not surprised. Afterall, he did the same thing with the Terminal City Artworks books. It also explained why the dearly departed Mr. Nylon had been so reluctant to let them look at the records. "Hayden's on the cooked list?" he said.
Rita nodded.
Thirty seconds later Alec had what he needed -- Robert Hayden's home and business addresses in Olympia.
"Come on," Lydecker said, gesturing to him from the doorway.
A cold chill ran down Alec's spine at the sudden deja vu of his handler shouting at him in Robert Berrisford's driveway all those years ago. ... "Get in!"
He'd sworn to himself he'd never kill an innocent for Manticore again -- but he just had, albeit in self defense (the guy had pulled a gun). And worse, Rita now thought he was a monster. "Rita," he turned to her, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm sorry."
"494!" Lydecker barked. "Move it, soldier!"
"I'm sorry," he whispered once more, reaching out to touch her arm, wanting to comfort her. The gallery owner shrank away from him, and the look of horror in her eyes cut Alec to the quick. "I'm so, so, sorry ..."
But it was no use. She was gone from his life. And so, with a last desperate look at the carnage in the office, and at the woman who'd once been his friend, Alec turned away and followed Donald Lydecker back into his world.
*****
Alec took Mole with him to Olympia leaving Lydecker in Terminal City to oversee the operation with Dix and Luke. Using the North Dakota base's communications system was too risky in case the Reds were listening on their frequencies, but Dix had a few tricks up his little mutant sleeve that should let them talk with the TC base in private.
Robert Hayden lived in a rich suburban home just off the main highway outside Olympia's city limits. Although technically under martial law just like Seattle, the Sector Police here weren't nearly as diligent, and the two transgenics had no trouble slipping into the ritzy neighborhood.
 |
Eric Hayden |
At two a.m. that morning, Hayden awoke to the sound of a gun being cocked behind his ear. The naked prostitute he was sleeping with took one look at Mole standing at the foot of the bed and opened her mouth to scream bloody murder, but before she could utter a sound the lizard man stuffed a sock between her teeth, and proceeded to truss her up like a plucked turkey with a cord pulled from the drapes.
Meanwhile, Alec was keeping a bead with his Glock on their quarry who was regarding the two soldiers rather oddly. "My people will pay you a fortune for your genetics," Hayden tried, speaking to Alec, instantly recognizing him for what he was.
A big man and handsome in a movie-star way, Rita's wealthy squeeze looked too soft to be a soldier. Alec figured him to be more of a front man for the Reds rather than a fighter.
"We've been trying to acquire an X5 bio-weapon for years," the man continued. He raked the young transgenic with an assessive gaze. "You're quite gorgeous you know."
"Yeah, yeah," Alec said easily. "I get that all the time."
"I could give you a great deal of pleasure," Hayden tried. He glanced at the hooker. "Women aren't really my first choice."
Mole was staring at Alec, the cigar dangling from his lip. "What the friggin' hell is this?" the lizard man groused. "I can't take you anywhere, can I, pretty boy. Every place we go some guy or gal is tryin' to get in your pants."
Alec shrugged. "Hey, don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful." Then his eyes grew serious. "Where's the data base, Hayden?" he said.
"If I tell you, you'll kill me," the man replied.
"Not necessarily," Alec lied easily. "Cooperate, and I'll let you go. You're small fish to us. We're after the big bosses, not you. Spill what you know and I'll just leave you and your playmate tied up here in the house. I only need a few hours and then it won't matter who you tell what."
"And if I don't tell you?" Hayden said.
Alec looked at Mole. "Then my scale-faced friend here is gonna get a chance to take out all of his frustrations on your 'ordinary' hide. Ya see, he's kinda got a thing against humans." The X5 leaned closer to the man and added in a very low voice, "And after he's done with you -- I'm gonna take my turn. And believe me, if you think he's an animal, you ain't seen nothin' yet."
Hayden looked deeply into those intense hazel-green eyes -- and saw something terrifying there. He nodded. "I'll tell you what you want to know."
Ten minutes later, the two transgenics stood outside the house in the growing dawn. They needed to get a team to Santa Barbara right away. The Reds had a U.S. base of operations on the wharf -- an old converted boat storage facility. They were doing the decryption of the data base there.
"What about lover boy and his toy?" Mole asked after Alec had gotten off of the phone with Lydecker, nodding his head at the house behind them. They'd left Hayden tied up in the bedroom with the woman.
Alec glanced back over his shoulder and swallowed hard. He knew what had to be done, but he had no taste for this kind of thing any more -- not without Manticore's intense brainwashing sessions to numb him.
Mole put a warm hand on his friend's shoulder. "Wait in the car," the lizard man said quietly. I'll take care of it."
Alec knew he could probably stop what was going to happen -- but he didn't. Instead, his voice deep with emotion, he said, "Not the woman. She's an innocent."
Mole snorted. "She didn't look so innocent to me."
Alec's lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. "You know what I mean. Let her live."
"And Hayden?"
The X5 closed his eyes, let out a huge sigh, then tilted his head back and opened them to look up at the fading stars overhead. "He's the enemy," he said, his voice toneless now. "And you know procedure."
Mole nodded ... turned toward the house. Alec's hand caught hold of his arm. "Thanks," the X5 said softly.
His friend nodded, understanding, then went back inside Hayden's to finish the mission.
Meanwhile, Alec continued staring at the stars, counting them, until he heard the muffled sound of a single gunshot. Twenty seconds later the lizard man came sprinting out of the house, and together they got into the car to head for Santa Barbara.
*****
They drove all night. Max and Lydecker were waiting for them at the dock -- three transgenics and the Manticore CO would hopefully be enough firepower to take down the Reds' base.
"Go straight to the data," Lydecker ordered. "I don't care how many people you have to kill to get there. We have to know if they've broken the code. Then -- destroy everyone and everything in that building."
"Yes, sir," Mole said sarcastically, giving a mock salute. Then he turned lizard eyes on his real leader. "Max?" he said. "That the way you want it played out?"
"Sounds good to me," she said. She looked to Alec. "You ready?"
"Willing and able," he said with his trademark smirk. But there was a haunted look in her lover's eyes that bothered 452. He'd been through a lot the past three days, both killing and nearly being killed himself. Transgenic or not, that kind of thing took a toll on the emotions. After this was over, Max vowed, she and Alec were going to take a vacation -- get away from all of this for awhile. And definitely, no more Manticore missions for a very long time.
"I'll check the data, you guys set the charges," Max instructed.
Alec nodded, and Max realized he was more than willing to take a back seat on this leg of the operation, let someone else make the hard calls for a change. She gave him an encouraging smile. "Cheer up, soldier," she said so softly only Alec could hear. "You'll get your reward for this later. Promise."
He winked, and Max knew that he was all right.
There were half a dozen Red soldiers guarding the boat house, but they weren't expecting company -- at least not of the transgenic kind. Blurring through the front of the building, Alec and Mole took out everything with a pulse, the submachine guns the lizard man had brought along more than enough firepower to down the neural-enhanced humans even though it required at least half a dozen shots to drop each one.
Max sprinted for the office where a two-man team of South African technicians were hard at work cracking the Manticore data base. Bashing their geeky heads together without a qualm, 452 bent over and studied the streaming date ... then breathed a sigh of relief. They'd been close, but the Manticore intel was still safe, including the DNA codes of herself and her people. Sticking her head out of the office door, she saw Alec and Mole standing over six bodies on the floor. The machine gun looked very natural cradled in X5-494's arm, and not for the first time Max felt chagrined that she let her fellow warriors take such risks while she, herself, refused to carry a firearm. One of these days it could cost him his life, a little voice whispered in her head.
Max shook it off, forced a smile, and said, "Party's over. We won, guys. The data's safe. Now let's blow this joint and go home."
Alec and Mole looked at each other, nodded, and moved away to set the charges. Five minutes later all three transgenics were piling back into the car where Lydecker had been monitoring their progress. Thirty seconds more, and the boathouse went up with a roar of flames, incinerating Red soldiers, the data base, and every other shred of evidence.
Now, they really could go home.
*****
She turned in his arms as strong hands slid possessively over her soapy breasts, rubbing ... fondling ... Then she gasped as his fingers traveled lower even as he bent his head to nuzzle the bar code on the back of her neck.
Logan Cale had long ago abandoned his apartment on the outskirts of Terminal City. However, through the wonders of Dix's computer hacking (and at Alec's urging) the water and electric had remained on in the building. A creature of comfort, Eyes Only had installed a nice-sized hot water tank in his pad -- and, even though the owner was long gone -- Alec and Max still greatly enjoyed the benefits of Cale's foresight, the two transgenics regularly stealing off to the apartment to enjoy a hot shower together that of course inevitably turned into lovemaking.
Tonight was no exception. Exhausted as they were from their recent misadventures with Lydecker and Manticore, the feel of steaming water beating down on their naked bodies and each other's intimate touch was enough to quickly banish most of the X5s' aches and fatigue.
"I love you," Max breathed as Alec gently lifted her hips, cupping her in his hands as he held her firm and strong against the wall. And then suddenly he was inside her, and for awhile, as they kissed and made passionate love, the whole world simply went away.
*****
"I can't believe Sketchy doesn't want you at Normal's bachelor party," Max said later in the darkness as they lay together in her bed.
Alec turned over and stared at the ceiling. "Eh," he said, trying to make light of it. "You know Sketch. He gets squeamish sometimes. He's just scared. Next week he'll be buddyin' up to me all over again."
"Probably," Max said, but her tone was doubtful. "And about Rita ... I'm sorry. I know you considered her a good contact. Also, I hate to think what this might do to our artists'."
"You think that hasn't crossed my mind?" Alec said, turning over and wrapping his lady in his strong arms. He kissed the top of her head. "But maybe I can talk to her," he added. However, secretly he was wondering what on Earth he could possibly say to smooth over the debacle at the Nylon Art Gallery. In a way, the idea was ludicrous. Hey, Rita, sorry about killin' your partner and shootin' up the place. Hope there's no hard feelings.
"They were our friends," Max whispered into the pillow.
"Ordinary friends," Alec corrected a long moment later, his voice as dark as the night around them.
And Max shivered.
*****
"X5-472 I have a mission for you."
The tall dark-haired X5-Unit regarded his commander with keen brown eyes as he stood at attention in front of Colonel Donald Lydecker's desk at the North Dakota base.
 |
X5-472 (aka "Devon")
Photo courtesy of Eyes Only |
"At ease, soldier," Lydecker said, waving his hand. "I brought you back from the Vatican detail because I have need of you in a long-term assignment."
"Yes, sir," the Unit said, carefully keeping his gaze on the wall behind the colonel's head.
"You know about the Terminal City transgenics?" Lydecker said. "Your brothers and sisters holed up in Seattle where they're attempting to lead normal lives?"
"Yes, sir," 472 replied. "I've read the reports you gave me last night and am familiar with the situation."
"Your opinion, soldier?" Lydecker asked.
The X5-Unit looked puzzled. "My opinion, sir?"
"What do you think of your fellow soldiers living in Terminal City?" Lydecker said slowly.
472 still looked uncomfortable at being asked to form a free thought. But finally he said, "I don't understand why these soldiers were allowed to go native, sir. It seems an unproductive use of their extremely valuable genetics and training."
"Exactly!" Lydecker exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the desk top.
The X5 continued staring calmly at the wall,.
"I want you to go to Terminal City, 472," Lydecker said. He tossed two photographs down on the desk. This is X5-452 and X5-494. They're the leaders of the Seattle transgenics. Your mission will be two-fold. First of all, I want you to keep an eye on what's really going on in the conclave out there. I get weekly reports from 452, but I have reason to believe they're suspect."
472 nodded. "And the second part of the mission, sir?" he asked.
Lydecker planted his forefinger on the photograph of X5-494. "I want you to get him away from her."
The X5's brows knit in confusion. "You want me to assassinate 494?" he said.
"No," Lydecker said adamantly. "494's a valuable asset and he's not to be harmed. However, you're a far better soldier and will be a much more worthy mate for 452, as well as a more efficient leader for Terminal City."
"You want me to copulate with 452?"
"Yes," Lydecker said. "Specifically, I want you to make her fall in love with you and then get her pregnant. Once that's accomplished, 494 will be out of 452's life forever. With any luck he'll come running home, to Manticore, and be willing to finally submit to reconditioning so he can be a peak use soldier again."
The X5-Unit's cool, emotionless eyes regarded the colonel. "Is the love necessary?" he asked. "It's a difficult condition for me to understand since I'm incapable of feeling it myself."
"Yes," Lydecker said quietly. "You have to make Max fall in love with you. But you're a good actor, 472. Of course, we thought 494 was a good actor as well, but it turned out, unfortunately, that his emotions were real. It's one of the reasons we need him to step aside. He and Max feed off of one another, trying to be human instead of what they really are. It's an unhealthy situation that's ultimately going to be the downfall of all the transgenics in Terminal City."
"Are you sure I shouldn't simply eliminate 494?" Devon asked. "That way there wouldn't be any competition for the female."
Lydecker chuckled. "If you killed 494, she'd kill you in return," he said. "At the moment he's the love of her life. No, I need you to displace 494, not destroy him -- or at least not destroy him physically. Move in slowly, insinuate yourself into Max's inner circle, gain her confidence, and when you get the chance, discredit 494 as much as possible in her eyes. Eventually, she'll turn away from him the same way she turned away from Logan Cale, and that will be your chance to move in." He regarded 472 fondly. "Those two can be pried apart. It will just take some time. The culmination will be 452's impregnation. You're not as ideal a mate for her as 494, but your DNA certainly isn't totally incompatible. There's a better than sixty percent chance a child sired by you with her will be viable."
"Yes, sir," 472 said. "I'll go pack my gear." Then he saluted his CO and left the office.
New Manticore's leader stared out the window for a long time after the Unit had gone, thinking, ... wondering if he was truly doing the right thing. 494 had the potential to be a superb soldier, but working with him the past few days had shown the colonel just how weak the boy had become emotionally.
Putting it brutally, X5-494 was a broken weapon.
Max's lapses into sentimentality he could forgive. She had, afterall, been on the outside for the better part of her life. 494, however, had only been out in the world a mere two and a half years, and already he was succumbing to the very traits Manticore had tried so hard to burn out of his mind -- compassion, curiosity, humor, loyalty to an individual over his unit ... love ...
Maybe Stendahl was right after all, the colonel thought darkly. Maybe "Alec" does need to be destroyed so 494 can be nurtured to his full potential. There are so few X5s left in the world. We need to make the most of each and every one ...
Outside, snow began to fall on the Manticore training grounds, and, as he watched the white flakes drift down from the sky and pondered 494's fate, Colonel Donald Lydecker's already frozen heart grew just a little bit colder.
THE END
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