Episode 3.20 - The Trouble With Max
PROLOGUE
The Penthouse – February 15, 9:00 AM
The announcer on Channel Three broke into the regularly scheduled program.
This is a Channel Three News special. Stand by for an announcement from the State House in Olympia.
The television on top of the wine rack crackled, causing Logan to look up from the banks of computers. He had been putting the finishing touches on an Eyes Only broadcast about federal excess and the public sentiment against the government because of it. The man in the street was shouting for secession louder and louder. Logan wheeled himself into the dining room so he could see the TV.
The scene shifted to a podium in front of the State House. Governor Savidge, the lieutenant governor, and several other state notables stood behind the podium. The governor, her eyes darting from side to side as if she were looking for something, began to speak.
Today, I have asked the State Legislature to pass a bill making National Guard service mandatory by all citizens of Washington State between the ages of 18 and 45, effective immediately. This conscription bill will greatly enhance the number of soldiers available to defend our borders. I ask that all citizens of Washington State cooperate once this bill passes. Thank you.
Jane Savidge abruptly turned her back on the cameras and strode off, followed by her entourage.
Logan turned down the sound on the television and went back to the computer, this time bringing up all the information he could find on Jane Savidge. He scratched his head, and a puzzled expression formed on his face as the data scrolled. After extracting the piece of information he was looking for, he reached for the phone.
"Hello, Alec? Logan. I've got a job for you. You just saw Governor Savidge's announcement?"
The voice on the other end of the line acknowledged that he had.
"Well, don't you think it's odd that the governor is calling for compulsory service when she has a twenty-year-old daughter who would be immediately conscripted?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Alec replied, "On the other hand, maybe she's a really patriotic citizen who believes in military service. Or maybe her daughter wants to join up."
"Trust me, Alec. My family has known her family socially for years. None of them are hawks, Jane Savidge especially. No, something's going on. I know it." Logan looked back at the computer screen and scrolled down a page.
"Okay, so we trust your instincts. Now what?" Alec asked.
"Well, here's what I want you to do. Get down to Olympia as soon as possible and look around. I suspect the governor's being coerced into making that announcement. She looked very nervous during that speech, and I've never known her to be nervous. If you find anything, call me. In the meantime, keep an eye on her. I'll investigate further to see if I can find out what's going on and who's influencing her. Think you can track down the daughter?"
"No sweat," Alec replied. "Should I stop by your place for anything on the way to Olympia?"
"No, I don't think so. As long as you've got a weapon and a cell phone, I think you're equipped. Keep in touch." Logan hung up the phone and went back to hacking into Governor Savidge's records, searching for clues to her sudden desire to strengthen Washington's military.
The Committee's conference room – 9:15 AM
After the news report, Kathryn Birman turned off the television in the elegant conference room. Her fellow Committee members leaned back in their chairs in satisfaction. She sat down at the head of the table, a smug smile on her face.
"Gentlemen, the governor has taken our...suggestion, as you see."
"Too bad she needed more persuasion than the governor of California," Rex Selkirk said.
"Well, at least she did what we – suggested. Our plan is proceeding..." General McKenzie agreed.
"Yes, it's right on schedule...As long as Eyes Only doesn't wreck it – again," Kathryn grumbled.
"We have to...do something about him. He's caused too much trouble already – exposing Project Manticore..."
"Revealing Stevenson's death – We had to really hustle to limit the damage on that one – and delaying the Healthcorp deal..."
"Yes, he's not only costing us time, he's costing us money," Kathryn stated. "We need to neutralize him as soon as possible."
"Well, we had X5-452's motorcycle fitted with a tracking device so she'd lead us to Eyes Only. She seems to know him very well." Rex Selkirk said.
"Any luck with that?" asked Kathryn.
"Unfortunately, no. She apparently discovered the device. But we'll keep monitoring her in other ways until she leads us to Eyes Only.
Kathryn looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "And how long do you think that will take? We've got a schedule to meet, you know, and we don't need that interfering pain-in-the-ass crusader throwing a monkey wrench in the works. This needs to be resolved quickly."
"Yes, Kathryn, it will be," Harriet Short sighed. "It will be."
Kathryn got up from the table. "It better." She turned on her heel, and left the room.
ACT I
The Penthouse, 1:15 PM
The clock on the wall ticked along as the tapping of keys echoed through the apartment. Logan's attention was focused on his computer screen as he opened file after file, reading reports from Olympia as well as from Austin, Sacramento, and Washington, D.C. He jotted down an occasional note on a pad sitting by his keyboard.
Finally he lifted his head, stretched a bit, and checked the clock.
The clock on the wall said quarter to eight as Max gathered up her backpack and her Jam Pony cap. She walked into the computer room where Logan was working on the exoskeleton. "That thing's still not fixed?" she asked. "I thought you'd have it up and runnin' in no time, like you usually do."
"So did I," he responded, his voice indicating his annoyance at the broken device. "That whack on the pavement screwed it up more than I thought it had. I finally found a replacement for the damaged actuator, got the wiring in place, went to repair some circuit boards...and ran out of solder. Haven't been able to get my hands on any yet."
"Economic breakdown strikes again," Max commented, giving Logan a kiss and leaving the room. "Gotta jet."
"Okay," came his reply as he tightened some screws. "Hey, come back here for a second."
"Can't. Don't wanna be late today."
Logan raised an eyebrow at that. He set down the screwdriver he was holding and wheeled out to the door, where Max was headed with her mountain bike. "Since when are you worried about getting to work on time?"
"Hey, it happens now and then, you know," she shrugged. She flashed him a lopsided smile. "Girl's gotta get paid."
He smiled back. She opened the door and was about to take a step when he playfully grabbed the rear wheel of her bike, halting her progress. Max looked at him with curiosity.
"You haven't had lunch here in a while," he told her. "How about it today? I'll make those sandwiches you like and we can just hang out."
She paused, looking slightly uncomfortable, then smiled again. "Is that all you have in mind?" she asked, eyebrow cocked.
"Well...I could be convinced otherwise..."
Max laughed. "I'll bet." She tugged her bike out of his grasp and started walking it out the door. "Okay. See ya at noon, assuming Normal doesn't send me across town at ten to."
"Let's hope not. See ya." Logan closed the door after her and then turned to answer his ringing cell phone. It wasn't long before he was buried nose-deep in Eyes Only business.
Logan had lost track of time. The hour hand was well past the one now.
"Max?" Logan called. He turned to go look for her. He checked the whole apartment, in case she had sneaked in from a late lunchtime run while he'd been engrossed in work. He checked the kitchen first, then the living room, then the rest of the apartment, but she was nowhere to be found.
Logan picked up the phone and dialed her cell phone. It rang and rang with no answer, so he paged her instead and went back to work.
Jam Pony – 1:30 PM
"All right, you bums!" Normal shouted as he walked through Jam Pony, carrying his clipboard and a package under his arm. "Get to work! You," he said to Sketchy, who was entering the building, "get this package to 3187 Arlington. The client wants it there in twenty minutes."
"No can do," Sketchy told him, walking right past the outstretched package and digging into his bag. "I just got back from Sector 11. Riders get ten minutes between long runs."
"Yeah, and customers get their packages on time," Normal shot back, irritated. "The customers? Remember them? The ones who hire us and keep us in business?"
"The ones who call up four hours after a delivery and ask for a pickup?" Sketchy countered, pulling a large padded envelope out of his bag and waving it at Normal as a told-you-so.
Normal ignored it. "Yes, those customers. Put the envelope down and take this to Sector 6."
"Break time." Sketchy made a big show of putting his watch in front of his eyes and checking the time. "Guess you'll just have to find someone else."
Normal rolled his eyes and sighed.
Sketchy dropped the padded envelope onto Normal's counter. "That's for Max," he said, pointing to it as he walked away. "The pickup from Sector 11."
"That slacker can get it when she comes back from her run...or whatever it is she's off doing," Normal grumbled. He left the envelope on the counter and went to find an available messenger.
The Penthouse – 2:15 PM
It was quarter after two when Logan put down his work, unable to wait any longer for Max to return his page. He picked up the phone and dialed her old apartment number.
"You got the one and only Original Cindy. I'm not home, so leave a message – "
Logan hung up and dialed again.
"Jam Pony, how can I help you?" said a harried but agreeable voice on the other end. Normal was speaking into his headset while handing out packages and shooing talkative messengers away from the time clock.
"Logan Cale. Is Max there?"
"Well, I guess you were about due for a phone call, weren't you? Haven't heard from you in quite a while." Normal bent underneath the counter to retrieve a form for a messenger. He resumed speaking when he straightened up. "No, she's not here."
Logan sighed and checked his watch. "When was she there last?"
"She hasn't been back here since her first run this morning. Big surprise. This isn't the first time she's run off and left our customers in the lurch."
"Be careful out there," Logan told Max as she climbed out of the car.
"You know I will," she agreed, closing the door and leaning through the window to grin at him. "I gotta get back to work in one piece, 'cause you know I'm Normal's star messenger."
"Is he aware of that?" Logan joked.
"Normal wouldn't be aware of a snapping turtle if it bit him in the ass," Max said, rolling her eyes. She flashed Logan a quick smile, then turned to complete the mission, her backpack-clad figure quickly disappearing into the crowd.
"All right," Logan told Normal. "Thanks anyway."
Sublime P.I. – 2:30 PM
Cody reached for the door. Entering the laundromat at the front of Sublime P.I., he spied Gem at a table near the back. She had two washers going, and seemed to be in the process of sorting a pile of whites from colors. Elfie was nearby, snoozing in her stroller. Quietly, Cody locked the door behind him. He called out, "Is that your underwear?" Playfully, he covered his eyes with his hands. "I'm not looking!"
"Cody!" Gem jumped, startled. "I didn't hear you come in!"
"Business is booming, I see." Cody sauntered down the row of machines. He passed a couple of laundry carts on casters. A few more steps took him past a bucket and mop. Overhead, one of the fluorescent lights flickered, and went out.
"Shoot." Gem looked up. "Those are hard to replace."
"I thought your boyfriend was good at scrounging things."
"My what?" Gem's forehead creased. "Alec? God, he's not my boyfriend."
"Ah," said Cody. "So, that's not his laundry."
"Good grief," Gem laughed. "That's all for Elfie." She pointed at a washing machine. "And that." She pointed at another. "And that. A girl could lose her mind."
"Where is he?" Cody put his hands in his pockets. He leaned back against a dryer. "Alec, I mean. Is he around?"
"No." Gem turned back to her sorting. "In a minute I'm gonna tell you to hold your breath," she said. "And when I say so, do it, because I'll be putting these dirty diapers in to wash." With her foot, she indicated a garbage bag under the table.
"Roger that," Cody said agreeably. "So – Alec?"
"He's on a job," said Gem.
"And the dog that walks like a man? He around?"
Gem's shoulders got stiff. "No – and you're lucky, because if you insult him to his face again, I won't be very happy about it. You know his name. It's Joshua." She looked up at Cody, all of her freckles standing out against her fair skin. "Here are your options. Refer to him by name, or get the hell out."
Cody snorted. "You know what, Gem? You're really kind of bossy."
Gem was taken aback. "Excuse me?"
"That's right," Cody said. "And I don't like it. I don't like it at all."
Gem shook her head in disbelief. "Well," she said, pointing, "there's the door."
"Fine." Cody turned as if to go. Out of the blue, he hit her sharply with a backward elbow strike. Gem staggered back against the table.
"What the hell?" Gem sputtered. "Why did you do that? Get away from me!" She pushed off from the table and charged him with a running kick. Cody moved forward to meet her, deflecting the kick with an inside block. He captured her kicking leg, and raised it upward, flipping her over backward. Gem landed on the table. She scuttled sideways, out of his reach, and fell on the floor. She rolled onto her back, and did a kip up. She advanced again, hitting him in the face with a palm heel strike to the nose. She followed that with a right hook. It was Cody's turn to stagger.
Gem darted around him, to get some distance from the wall. Now her back was to the front door. She threw a worried glance at Elfie, dancing back to avoid Cody as he spun, throwing a punch. Gem took a step to the side, pivoting, and executed a double kick. Cody threw up his forearm, blocking the first thrust, and the second. He laughed. "Is that all you've got, 238?"
"I knew it!" Gem snarled. "I knew you couldn't be a civilian!" Angrily, she threw a straight punch. Cody ducked and grabbed Gem's arm, pulling her to him. He bent her hand back in a submission hold. Gem groaned, straining. Cody landed a full punch to her face, and immediately struck again, targeting her gut. He let go of her arm and the force of the blow carried Gem back a few steps. Cody whirled into a roundhouse, striking Gem in the chest. She flew into the air, and hit the floor hard. Cody strode forward. Coughing, Gem got to her hands and knees. Before she could get to her feet, Cody drew back his leg and kicked her. He kicked her again, and she fell on her stomach, wheezing.
Cautiously, Gem got to her knees. She hugged her stomach, and looked up at Cody. "Why are you doing this? What the hell is wrong with you?"
Cody threw up his hands. "You work in a laundromat! You're better than that!"
"I do not work in a laundromat!" Gem said hotly. "The laundromat is extra!"
Cody made a dismissive gesture. "Oh...I can't talk to you!" He turned away, snatching up the mop. He broke the mop handle over his knee.
Gem got to her feet in a hurry, but not quickly enough. Cody came at her, swinging, and that was the last thing she saw.
The Penthouse – 2:45 PM
Logan turned back to his work, trying to concentrate despite his growing worry. Max hadn't stopped home as promised, wasn't at her old place, hadn't been seen at work since her first run, and hadn't answered his phone calls or his page.
"Still haven't heard from her, huh?" Bling asked. "Max can take care of herself."
"Didn't ease my mind before, and it isn't working now, either," Logan muttered. His usual rapid jump from file to file had slowed to a distracted crawl.
A few minutes after Logan had left Dr. Vertes' examination room, while he was gathering his stuff and arranging his next appointment, he heard the sound of crashing glass from the other room. He made his way back to the door, opened it a crack, and peered through. Max was on the ground, holding an attacker's knife inches from her own face.
Logan shook his head to clear the memory, but another soon replaced it.
The Aztek roared into the parking garage. Max was fighting the Reds, who were beginning to overpower her.
Logan shot at them, giving her an opportunity to run for the car and dive into the back seat. Later he looked at her burned shoulder and cut lip, and wondered what would have happened if he hadn't made it there in time.
That did it. Logan shut off the computer, grabbed his keys and his gun, and wheeled out the door.
ACT II
Jam Pony – 3:15 PM
Logan, wet from the rain that had started to fall, came down the ramp and approached the counter. Normal barely glanced up from the envelopes he was sorting. "I told you she's not here. What, you had to come and see for yourself?"
"Maybe," Logan said defensively. "She hasn't shown up yet?"
"No. Imagine that. Got her check, took her first run, and hasn't been seen since." Normal handed a paycheck envelope to Sky as he passed by. "Here. Don't let me catch you faking signatures again or you'll be missing more than a few hours of pay."
Ignoring Normal, Sky moved across the room to greet Sketchy. They began playing hacky-sack as Logan turned back to Normal. "Where was her last run to? Maybe I can track her down."
"That's confidential. Customers trust that we don't give out their information."
"I'm just looking for Max. Tell me where to look."
Normal gave him a sideways glance and sighed. He turned around to check some papers on a clipboard. Logan glanced briefly to the side and saw the hacky-sack game moving closer to the counter.
Still facing the rear wall, Normal read from the clipboard. "833 Hamlin. Sector elev – Hey!" Normal had turned around and finally noticed the game. "No games inside! This is a place of business, not a park!"
"Come on, Normal, we're going for a record here," Sketchy protested, concentrating on the beanbag. He and Sky kept kicking it back and forth.
Logan pulled a notepad out of his pocket and jotted down the address Normal had given him.
Normal charged out from behind the counter. "Do I have to get in the middle of this again? You slackers don't even know the difference between break time and work time. Gimme that!" He reached for the beanbag. Sketchy and the other messenger managed to play keep-away with it, grinning mischievously as Normal ducked this way and that in his effort to snatch the beanbag away.
"I told you, Normal, the record won't be brok – AAH!" Sketchy tripped over one of his trailing shoelaces and fell headfirst. Arms flailing for balance, he accidentally knocked a huge stack of papers off of the counter as he went down. Sketchy crashed to the floor, and the papers floated off the counter like falling leaves. The wind from the rainstorm outside blew them farther around, sending some of them gliding across the room.
"You idiot!" Normal cried, stooping to grab some papers from the floor. "If any of these delivery slips get lost, it's coming out of your pay!"
Sublime P.I. – 3:25 PM
When Gem came to, Cody was on his cell phone. "Yes, sir," she heard him say. Hanging up, he turned, and seemed surprised to find her awake. "Rats. I should have hit you twice."
Gem sat up. Cody was lifting Elfie out of her stroller. "Cody, no!"
"Stay back," he warned. "If you think I won't hurt her – you're nuts."
"What are you doing?" Helplessly, Gem put her hands on her thighs. "Leave her alone!"
"I'm taking her with me," Cody said grimly. "And you're going to do exactly what I say." He balanced the baby on one hip, and reached into his pocket with his other hand. He extracted a pair of handcuffs.
"Oh." Gem's voice was tight. "Oh, God."
Cody threw the cuffs at her. They bounced off her knee, and landed on the floor with a metallic thud. "Pick them up."
Tentatively, Gem reached for the cuffs. "Why are you doing this?"
"Shut up!" he shouted. "Don't make me kill you! Do you think I want to kill the mother of my baby?"
"What are you going to do with her?" demanded Gem.
Cody looked down at Elfie and broke into a smile. "She's my ticket – back to a real life, the life I'm supposed to have."
"You're insane," Gem breathed. "You're going to sell her!"
"It's more of a trade," he clarified with a shrug. "I give her back, and I get what I want. It's as simple as that."
"Please don't do this," Gem begged. "She's just a baby."
"Get up." Cody shifted his weight, watching her. Cautiously, Gem got to her feet, still holding the handcuffs. "Slow!" he snapped, and Gem froze. Stiffly, she held up her hands. "Handcuff yourself to the radiator."
"Cody –" Gem started, but he cut her off.
"Do it! And be glad I'm not taking you back, too."
"Screw you!" she said angrily.
Cody grinned. "You already did."
"No," Gem said. "I mean – screw you!" She threw the handcuffs at his head, and Cody batted them away. Gem ran forward. Dropping to the ground, she swept his leg. Cody fell, swearing, and Elfie started to cry. Scrambling, Gem pulled the baby out of his arms. Cody grabbed Gem's leg, and she kicked at him. He made an angry noise. Gem bounced to her feet and took off for the exit. She snagged a laundry cart, pulling it alongside her as she ran. Cody was up almost immediately, right behind her.
Gem plopped Elfie into the cart just as Cody reached out. Cody grabbed Gem from behind, circling her waist. She twisted, kicking, and sent Elfie spinning back across the room, past the long row of washers and dryers. The laundry cart ended up in the far corner, next to the rectangular table and the bag of dirty diapers. Elfie peered over the side, her eyes huge.
Cody picked Gem up, and she gasped. "Crafty," he whispered in her ear. "But now I'm going to have to mess you up."
Gem twisted in his arms, struggling. She brought her own arms down, and broke his hold. She landed on her feet, in a crouch. "Someone's gonna get messed up," she panted. Cody threw a punch, and she blocked him. She drew her leg back sharply, and kneed him in the groin.
"Oh, jeez." His face turned red.
"That's right!" Gem pivoted on her back foot. She kicked. Cody's eyes were wide with shock, his mouth hanging open. Flailing, he fell back against the edge of the washing machine.
Jam Pony – 3:30 PM
"Gimme a break, Normal, I tripped," Sketchy muttered, shaking his head and climbing back to his feet.
"Yeah, well, if you'd learn how to tie your shoes like any kindergartner can, you wouldn't have to worry about it."
Despite his worry, Logan was watching the scene with amusement. As Normal bobbed at the waist, picking up the papers scattered across the floor, a padded envelope caught Logan's eye. He moved forward slightly to get a better look, saw that it was addressed simply to "Max," and leaned down to pick it up.
Normal spotted it just as Logan started to open it. "Hey!" He rushed over and snatched it out of Logan's hands on his way back to the counter. "Not for you!"
"Who's that from?" Logan demanded, wheeling closer to the desk, attempting to look at the return address. There was none.
"Don't know, don't care," Normal retorted, busy trying to reorganize the piles on the counter that had been disrupted by Sketchy's fall. "None of my business. And it's none of yours, either."
"Don't talk to me like that." Logan raised his voice. "I'm not one of your messengers."
"Well, you're not a customer either, are you?"
"I could be. You never know," Logan said, inching closer to the envelope while Normal was distracted.
"Yeah, right. The only pickup you ever come for is Max."
"And this envelope," Logan announced as he grabbed it. Normal looked up and reached for it, but Logan backed up out of Normal's reach and quickly resumed opening the envelope.
Normal stood there for a second, as if making a decision. Then he muttered, "If the cops come asking about mail tampering, I had nothing to do with it."
"You didn't," Logan murmured, reading the unsigned note he had pulled out of the envelope.
Eyes Only,
Your broadcasts have become inconvenient. You will cease to pursue your current topics and instead begin informing the populace as to the necessity of secession. To ensure your cooperation, we have taken Max. We recommend that you follow our instructions below if you do not wish to see her harmed.
"Who sent this?" Logan demanded again, looking up with renewed urgency. The worry in his voice was unmistakable.
Normal opened his mouth to refuse information again, but one look at Logan's face made him change his mind. "Sketchy, get over here!"
"I'm between runs," Sketchy argued as he ambled over.
"Talk to him. He's the one who made the pickup," Normal told Logan, and walked away.
Logan held up the envelope so Sketchy could see it. "Where'd this come from?"
"It was a pickup on Hamlin, in Sector 11." Sketchy cocked his head and stepped closer to Logan. "Is Max in trouble or something?"
"Don't know yet. Did you say – Hamlin?" Logan repeated in disbelief. He pulled out the note he had written himself a few minutes earlier. "833 Hamlin?"
"Yeah, man, how'd you know?"
"Never mind," Logan said, pocketing the notepad. "If you hear from Max, have her give me a call."
"Sure thing." Sketchy watched Logan leave, until he got hit on the back of the head with the beanbag. He turned back for another game.
As soon as Logan got outside, he found a quiet, empty spot and reread the last sentences of the note. Don't believe we have her? We've enclosed something that should make it obvious enough. Taking a deep breath, he turned the envelope upside-down and shook it until something fell into his waiting hand.
His gasp echoed through the alley.
Undisclosed Location – 3:45 PM
Blearily, Max opened her eyes. She was staring up at a ceiling. She groaned, lifting her head. "Where the hell am I?"
She planted her palms on the hard cement floor. "I was making a delivery. But – what happened?" She shoved herself upright, gasping at the effort. "Ugh." She put her head in her hands. When she spoke again, her voice, bouncing back at her off the cold concrete walls, was hollow. "I feel terrible."
She got up on her knees, and tried to stand. Her head swam, and the room tilted sharply. She was out before she hit the floor.
ACT III
Sector 11 – 4:00 PM
The city streets buzzed with activity as Seattle's citizens went about their days. Homeless people milled about, chatting with each other as they flitted from trashcan fire to trashcan fire, seeking friendship as well as warmth on the cold February day. Messengers and businesspeople breathed on their hands as they waited in line at sector checkpoints. The exhaust from the recently reconditioned Aztek condensed immediately after exiting the tailpipe, forming a small cloud as the vehicle moved through the streets. Traffic thinned with distance from downtown, and eventually the Aztek slowed to a stop on a suburban street.
Inside the car, Logan double-checked the address on his notepad and looked out the windows at 833 Hamlin. Like all the buildings on its street, the house was unassuming but neatly kept. The concrete driveway had been swept, and rosebushes stood dormant along the front of the house. In front of the door was a small concrete porch, about four feet by four feet, with a couple of steps leading up to it on the side. Logan frowned.
After getting out of the car, he reached under the driver's seat and pulled out the umbrella he kept there, setting it on his lap. He headed up the driveway in the rain. Logan parked next to the steps and used the umbrella tip to reach over and ring the doorbell.
"Mary Poppins, indeed," he muttered.
It wasn't long before a man of about fifty opened the heavy inner door. "Can I help you?" he asked from behind the screen, shivering in the cold air.
"I'm here from Jam Pony, tracking a package," Logan said, holding up the spare badge Max kept in the car's glove compartment for unexpected sector crossings. He kept his thumb over Max's picture and tucked the badge back into his pocket before the man could get a good look at the name on it. "You had a delivery and a pickup this morning? There was no return address on the pickup envelope, and they sent me to verify it with a signature for the record. Paperwork, you know," he added apologetically, giving his eyes a little roll.
"Delivery?" the man repeated in confusion, crinkling his face. "Pickup? I haven't called for any packages."
"You're sure? Maybe I've got the wrong address," Logan asked, knowing full well he had the right one.
"Must be. I just moved in this afternoon. Wasn't even here this morning."
For show, Logan craned his neck as if he were matching the faded wooden numbers posted on the house with the ones on his notepad. They both said 833. He raised an eyebrow and turned back to eye the man. The man had crossed his arms and was rubbing them in an effort to stay warm.
"I'll have to go back and double-check my information. Must've written it down wrong," Logan said conversationally. "So, you just moved in, eh? Place looks good. I take it the previous tenant hasn't been gone long?"
"I wouldn't know. I got it from some leasing company that's going out of business." The man smiled. "If they're still around, you could always see if they've still got anything to sell. It'd be a good chance to get some property dirt-cheap."
"Yeah," Logan nodded. "I think I might do that. Got their address handy?"
"Sure thing," the man said, eager to get away from the cold. He closed the door partway to block the wind and stepped away. Logan waited. When footsteps indicated the man's imminent return, Logan's fingers closed around the handle of the 9mm located inside his jacket pocket.
Instead of presenting a threat, though, the man simply opened the door and proffered a note with a handwritten address. "Here ya go. Tell 'em I sent ya, maybe they'll give me a bonus or something."
"Thanks." Logan tucked the note into his pocket, next to the gun. He turned to leave and noticed that one of the rosebushes showed signs of wear. Several stems were broken, and old, brittle leaves and petals littered the frosty dirt below. "What happened to your rosebushes?"
"Rosebushes? I dunno, I dropped a coupla boxes moving in and maybe one of 'em hit the bushes." The man shrugged. "Look, I gotta go. Hope you find the place you're lookin' for."
"Yeah, me too. Thanks a lot."
The door closed and Logan returned to his car. He checked his voice mail, but there was nothing from Max. With a worried sigh, he looked at the leasing group's address again, and drove away.
Undisclosed Location – 4:15 PM
Kathryn Birman, clad in an elegant pants suit and beautifully made, but sensible, shoes, sat behind the desk of an office that looked like it had seen better days. Boxes were stacked on the floor, as if the previous tenant hadn't had time to move out. Yellowing maps of campsites and trails hung precariously on the wall. The power seemed to be sporadic; periodically, the lights would flicker and the coffeemaker, on a rickety table in the corner of the office, would sputter.
Agent Roy Martin sat on the other side of the desk, casually rocking back on the rear legs of his chair, a cup of coffee in his hand. He had a self-satisfied expression on his face.
"You're sure the package got delivered?" Kathryn asked.
"Oh, yes, it was delivered. I handed it to the messenger myself. Even gave him a big tip to make sure."
"So, why haven't I heard anything yet? Eyes Only should have contacted me hours ago." She looked at her expensive, diamond-studded watch.
"I don't know. All I know is that the package was delivered as planned. I followed the bike messenger – at a discreet distance..." Martin held up his hand, stemming a comment from Kathryn. "It was delivered to Jam Pony, right on time."
"Something must have happened," Kathryn fretted.
"Give it a little time, Kathryn. After all, the package was addressed to X5-452 – Max – so the proprietor is probably waiting for her to return and fetch it..."
"Which, of course, she won't..."
"No, she won't. But, eventually, Eyes Only will." Martin declared confidently.
Kathryn got up from behind the desk and began to pace. "How long do you think it will take?" she demanded of Martin. "I can't wait forever."
"Patience, Kathryn. What's a few more hours? After all, how long has the Committee been trying to smoke out Eyes Only?" Martin replied, putting his feet up on the desk.
"This has nothing to do with Committee!" Kathryn snapped at him. "They're too busy fomenting rebellion and selling their services to the highest bidder. This is personal."
Martin took his feet off the desk and stared at her. "Personal? In what way?"
"In a way that's none of your business. You just follow orders. You don't ask questions. Now go find out if that package has been picked up!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Martin responded. He stood up, almost clicking his heels, but instead merely walked out of the office.
Leasing Office, Sector 11 – 4:30 PM
Logan came through the door of the leasing office to find the place empty. Not one desk, not one phone, not one piece of paper was left. The only sound was that of a push broom brushing against the floor at the other end of the room.
"You go on home," Max told Logan as he finished up his session with Dr. Vertes. "I'll take it from here." She put on a white lab coat and began pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail.
"Max, what are you doing?" Logan asked, clearly expecting the black catsuit rather than the look of a medical assistant.
Max gave him a sideways glance, brow furrowed. "Taking care of business. Go home. You don't need to be here if she comes."
"How do I know you're not going to take Vertes out the first chance you get?"
She stepped closer to him and stared him in the eyes. "Listen to me. I said I'd protect her and I will. But you might want to step back and let me do my job before I change my mind." With that, she grabbed a nearby broom and started sweeping. After a minute, she glanced at Logan with an expectant look on her face, waiting for him to leave. Reluctantly, he left the examination room, pausing in the office to listen through the closed door to the sound of the broom brushing against the floor.
Logan moved farther into the empty office and saw a uniformed man with gray hair stepping out of the next room, sweeping a small pile of dirt in front of him.
"Excuse me," Logan said, and the man looked up at the unexpected voice. "I'm looking for Baker Leasing."
"Sorry. Not here."
"I can see that," Logan commented, looking around. "Any idea how I can get in touch with them?"
The janitor leaned the push broom against the wall and picked up a smaller broom to sweep the corners. "None at all. Sorry."
"They didn't leave behind a forwarding address or a name to contact for tax purposes?"
"Look, buddy, I don't know where they went," the janitor said, now slightly irritated. He gestured with the broom handle. "They took off and left me to sweep. That's all I know."
In frustration, Logan squeezed one hand into a fist. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes in an effort to calm his rising panic.
"Look at this, it's all over," the janitor grumbled. "I swept this place just the other day. So what do they do? Make another mess and blow out of here. What kind of leasing group tracks in all this stuff, anyway? Some kinda yellow gravel...Never seen that before..."
Logan's eyes snapped open, and he looked at the dirt pile. "Listen, could you check the back for me? Just one time, to make sure. I really need to get hold of them."
The janitor grudgingly stepped out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Logan carefully reached down and scooped up a handful of the dirt. He looked around for a bit, at a loss for someplace to put it. Finally he removed his gun and poured the dirt into his pocket. He had just enough time to hide the gun before the janitor returned.
"Sorry, nothin' in there either."
"Ah, thanks anyway," Logan told him. "Thanks for your help." He turned and left the building, leaving the janitor to pick up his broom again and continue grumbling.
Undisclosed location – 4:45 PM
Max huddled on the floor of the bare, cold room, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her head was still throbbing. She still had no idea what was going on. No one had come by to check on her; there seemed to be no people at all around, in fact. She looked around, trying to determine where she was.
It appeared to be an underground storeroom, except there was little stored in it. A few bare metal shelves in the corner testified to its use in a previous life. A dim, naked light bulb was all that illuminated the room. She had no idea what time it was, since her watch had been taken from her.
Her sensitive hearing caught the sound of footsteps approaching. A key turned in the lock. A few seconds later, a casually, but elegantly dressed woman of about 40, entered the room, flanked by two burly guards.
"About damn time somebody showed up," Max said, summoning up all the attitude she could muster with her teeth chattering. "The room service around here sucks."
"We're not here to provide room service, X5-452," Kathryn replied. "Or any creature comforts, for that matter."
"Well then, what the hell do you want from me?" Max demanded, standing up
"You are feisty, aren't you?" Kathryn commented. "I don't want anything from you – at least not right now. You are merely bait, for the time being."
"Bait? What the hell are you talking about?"
"I don't care what happens to you. I'm after your boyfriend, Eyes Only."
"I still don't know what you're talking about," Max replied defiantly.
"Oh, come now, how long do you think you can get away with that innocent act? It won't work any more. I've known you and Eyes Only were...related somehow since before Manticore went up in flames. There have been too many coincidences – and I don't believe in coincidences."
"Lady, you're not making any sense to me," Max said, looking up at her with a puzzled expression on her face. She tried to contain her shivering, but had little success.
"Until recently, Eyes Only was merely annoying. But now, he's cost me a great deal of money and jeopardized my business transactions."
"So this is all about the Benjamins?"
"Oh, it's about a lot more than money. My colleagues want a piece of Eyes Only, too, but so far have been unsuccessful in finding him. Their latest little fiasco..." Kathryn broke off.
"The bug on my motorcycle," Max said, suddenly understanding.
"They believe in playing by the gentleman's rules of warfare. I'm not that nice. I want Eyes Only and I want him now. If I have to kill you to get to him, rest assured that I won't hesitate to do so."
"There's a distinct possibility," Max said, "that you may have to..."
"Well, before I do, I'm going to have a little fun with you first. Some experiments." Kathryn smiled a feral smile.
"Experiments? You gonna torture me? I'm certainly not going to give him up. Another crazy bitch tried to make me do that. It didn't work for her either."
Kathryn slapped Max hard across the face. "She was right. You are a pain in the ass!"
Max lunged at her, but the headache she'd been experiencing suddenly made her double over in pain. Then she straightened up, panting. "You and Renfro must be related," Max continued. "You're both single-minded whack jobs."
Kathryn backhanded Max again, only harder. A trickle of blood appeared on her lip. "Don't talk about her like that!" Kathryn snarled.
"Who?"
"Elizabeth Renfro. My sister. You killed her – you and Eyes Only."
"Sorry, you've got the wrong girl, lady," Max said. "She was shot by her own guys. She took a bullet meant for me."
"That's not what the guards said. They said the two of you struggled, you pulled her gun on her, and shot her."
"I don't even do guns!" Max protested.
"Well, it won't matter shortly. When Eyes Only comes to your rescue, you'll both get what you deserve. It's just a matter of time now. We wait until we hear from him."
Kathryn took a small syringe case out of her pocket. She filled the needle from a vial and tapped it to get the air bubble out. A nod of her head, and the guards strode past her to hold Max down. Max struggled, but she was weak, and was no match for them. Kathryn approached her and injected her in the arm.
Max collapsed in a heap onto the cement floor.
The Penthouse – 5:45 PM
Logan anxiously did his version of pacing, rolling side to side in front of the wall of windows in his living room. His cell phone lay silently in his lap. The bank of computers was on, but no programs were running, and the television on the wine rack was tuned to a news station. There had been reports of rioting and protests ever since Governor Savidge's announcement that morning.
Logan wheeled over to his desk. Once again, he looked at the message that he had taken from Jam Pony earlier that day. He had memorized the contact instructions. Logan glanced at his watch. He would give Matt Sung's guys another 15 minutes, then he would call the phone number on the sheet of paper.
The smoke detector wailed. Startled, Logan rolled out of the computer room, to be greeted by a cloud of smoke in the kitchen. Max was in front of the sink, desperately trying to put out the fire. She had the water turned on full blast and was fanning the smoke.
"Max, what's going on?" he asked as he wheeled into the kitchen.
Max turned around to face him, a sheepish expression on her face. "Um, I'm afraid I burned up your pot, Logan." She held up the ruined implement for his inspection.
"My good saucepan!" Logan cried out. "Max, what were you doing with my good saucepan?"
"Well, you were working so hard, and you looked so tired that I decided to make you some hot chocolate. I mean, how hard could it be? The recipe's on the side of the container..."
"So what happened?"
"I guess I turned up the heat too high on the milk...I'm not used to a stove that works, after all," Max explained. "I turned away to look for the sugar and forgot about the pot on the stove. When I turned back the milk was all boiled away and well, you saw the smoke."
Logan just looked at Max, an amused expression on his face.
"I was only trying to be helpful. You looked like you needed a cup of hot chocolate. I was gonna bring you one and massage your neck. I thought you'd like that, but if I'm wrong..." Max looked at him sideways, a tiny sparkle in her eyes.
That did it. Logan rolled over to her and put his arms around her waist. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I guess," he said to comfort her. "I suppose I can find another saucepan, but you're unique, Max."
Just then, the phone rang, bringing Logan out of his reverie. Eagerly, he answered it.
"Matt?"
"Hey, Logan," Matt said. "You're lucky the lab wasn't busy, but you owe me some bucks. I had to, ah, expedite the analysis."
"No problem, Matt. Just let me know how much. What did they find?"
"Well, you're in luck, I guess. Not just ordinary dirt it seems."
"Really?" Logan raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, sandstone, basalt, lots of ...cryptocrystalline silica – fossil wood."
"Fossil wood?" Logan asked, a frown on his face.
"Several different traces of it, as a matter of fact. Sweet gum, laurel, swamp cypress, and ginkgo."
"Weird. Those are warm climate trees. And if I remember my physical science, basalt is solidified lava. Thanks, Matt."
"Wish I could have been more helpful," Matt said regretfully.
"Oh, you've been a great help," Logan said. "Hang on a minute. I want to check this out."
He typed furiously, entering the information Matt had given him, for a location search.
"There can't be many places in the area with physical features like that, Matt. Whoever has taken Max probably hasn't taken her that far – they haven't had time."
The computer stopped scrolling.
"Bingo!" Logan said with a smug grin, in spite of himself.
"What did you find?" Matt asked.
"The only place in the general area with those types of fossil wood and basalt is the old Gingko Petrified Forest State Park on the Columbia River, about 140 miles southeast of here. That must be where they have her. There's only one building, a stone visitors center, and little or no tree shelter. It's an ideal spot: isolated, with no cover to hide an intruder, backing onto a large body of water, and near a major highway."
"That's out of my jurisdiction, Logan, but what can I do to help?" Matt sounded concerned.
"I want to buy some time to see if I can track Max down first without giving away Eyes Only. I've already determined that the contact number belongs to a public phone near Sector 12. That doesn't help much. As rare as public phones are these days, anyone waiting for a call, or wanting to make a call, could pick up when I dial the number, with little or no way of telling if it's my guy. If I can't find Max within a couple of hours, I'll drive to Sector 12, check out the phone and see if I can intimidate the person on the other end into telling me where she is."
Logan laughed ruefully to himself. "Although I don't think my powers of intimidation are up to snuff these days."
"Are you sure you don't want backup?" Matt asked. "My shift is over in another hour."
"Thanks, Matt. If I need it, I'll call you. If these people want Eyes Only, then that's who they'll get. I don't want to get you involved if I can help it."
"Okay, Logan, but remember, I've got your back. Call me." Matt hung up.
Logan shut down the system, and grabbed his laptop and cell phone, placing them in the backpack. He put on his jacket, reached into the desk drawer for his 9mm, made sure it was loaded and the safety was on, then headed out the door.
He had no immediate rescue plan in mind, but he had at least two hours to come up with one. It would take that long, on a good day, to get to the park.
ACT IV
Ginkgo Petrified Forest, Visitor's Center, Sub-Basement – 6:00 P.M.
Gradually, Max awoke. Blinking under the white light, she managed to say, "Where am I?" Her voice was thick.
Max felt like hell. She was sore and nauseous, and there was a horrible metallic taste in her mouth. She tried to sit up, and couldn't; she was strapped to an exam bed. There were electrodes on both her temples.
A woman's face swam into view, and Max tensed. The woman looked down at Max, smiling. "You asked me that the last time you woke up. Don't you remember?"
Max lifted her head as much as she was able. "Wha – what? Who are you?"
"It's a side affect of the electro-shock," the woman offered.
"Electro-shock," Max repeated numbly. The woman disappeared, and Max was only able to mark her continued presence in the room by the small sounds she made. A moment later, the strange woman returned, holding a syringe. The long needle gleamed in the glare from the harsh light. She tapped the barrel of the syringe with her fingernail. "No!" Max said sharply. "Wait! What – what are you doing?!"
"You asked me that the last time, too," said Kathryn Birman. "Now, shut up, will you? I'm not here to educate you. You're here to assist me in my research." Max flinched as Kathryn came forward. She injected Max in the arm.
"Hey!" Max groaned, straining against the restraints. "Who the hell are you? Why are you doing this?"
Kathryn Birman sighed irritably. "All right. I'll tell you again." She put a hand under Max's chin, peering into her eyes. Leaning over, she examined the placement of the electrodes. "But only because I'm excited about my new venture, and enjoy talking about it." She pulled on one of the electrodes, and it popped off of Max's temple with a sucking sound.
"Ow!" Max inhaled sharply. "Jeez."
"Yes, you have a burn, there. It won't matter for much longer." Kathryn turned to a metal table housing a number of instruments.
Max watched uneasily. She was very confused. She had no idea who this woman was, or what she wanted. In fact, Max was having a great deal of trouble remembering recent history. She lifted her head, looking down the length of her body. She flexed her arms, pulling on the restraints. "Hey – what are you doing over there?"
Kathryn glanced over her shoulder, regarding Max with a cool eye. "Science. You know the drill."
"I know that you appear to be a raving lunatic." Max gave a frantic tug on her restraints, and was unable to free herself. Frustrated, she fell back against the bed. Closing her eyes to the hot light, she said, "Exactly what science is supposed to be happening here?"
"In the past," Kathryn explained, "scientists have experimented with electrical implants that disrupt seizure activity." Warming to the topic, her voice became more animated. "I'm in the process of designing a wave field generator that will trigger seizure activity." She turned to Max, holding another electrode. Max shied away as much as she was able, but Kathryn easily applied the electrode.
Max let out a hard breath, her head spinning. "That's crazy," she said. "Why would you want to do that?" Her eyelids were beginning to droop.
Kathryn smiled again. "To see if I can." She picked up a stethoscope, and listened to Max's heartbeat. "With one zap from my little invention, I could paralyze a transgenic army. I just need to determine the correct –" She trailed off, her upper lip twitching as she gazed down at her captive. "You know, we did talk earlier, you and I. You don't remember any of it?"
"No," Max said sullenly, her eyelids fluttering.
Kathryn crossed her arms over her chest. "The only thing that matters is that you have some spectacular seizures, and I get some good data."
"I don't get seizures anymore," Max mumbled, in an attempt at protest.
Kathryn clicked her tongue. "That's why I have to induce them! We already had this conversation."
"I can't– I don't remember." Max said foggily. "Huh?"
"While I've been waiting for Eyes Only, it's been fun having you to play with. Even though you've been out of it for the most part – you've been really helpful."
With a certain amount of spirit, Max managed to say, "Glad I could oblige." Her eyes snapped open. "Eyes Only? What did you say?"
Kathryn looked at Max, her face hard. "And I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather experiment on than you."
"Wait," said Max desperately. "Go back to the Eyes Only part."
"Never mind," Kathryn said sweetly.
Against her will, Max closed her eyes. She felt like she was being buried alive. "Oh," she moaned. "What did you do to me?"
"That's the drug," Kathryn said. "Enjoy it. It won't be much longer before I fry your brain for good. Then you won't be able to enjoy anything at all."
Basement, Sublime P.I. – 6:15 P.M.
Gem was in the middle of digging a very big hole when she heard a buzzing sound. She looked up, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "Did you hear something?" she asked Elfie, who was sitting off to the side on a blanket. Elfie held up her hand, opening and closing her fingers. Gem gave her a crooked smile. "Not too much longer, I promise."
Gem heard the noise again. Throwing her shovel aside, she climbed out of the hole. Biting her lip, she got down on her knees and pulled the sheet away. She went through Cody's pockets, until she found the phone. She considered it for a second. Opening it up, she put the phone to her ear.
"739, report." It was a man's voice. Gem held her breath, listening. "739, report," the man repeated, sounding irritated. "You missed the handoff. What's your status?"
"Uh," Gem said, trying to make her voice deep. "Mmm –"
"739! Are you wounded? Do you have the package?"
Gem coughed into the phone.
"Who the hell is this?"
"Who the hell are you?" Gem said angrily. The line went dead. A moment later, the phone buzzed again. Gem opened the line, but before she could put it to her ear, there was a high frequency noise, and the phone started to get hot. She dropped the phone on the floor. It smoked, and started to melt.
"Hey," called Alec, from the top of the stairs. "Is this a private party, or can anyone play?"
"Oh, no," Gem said worriedly. "Don't come down!"
"Too late." Alec descended noisily. When he got to the bottom, he put his hands on his hips. &