s03e11_The enda and the meanb

Oxford Avenue, Terminal City  Wednesday, November 3, afternoon

Max kicked up a small pile of leaves as she stepped into one of the small green areas of Terminal City.  About a block long and a hundred yards wide, it held a few large trees that had survived the poison of the chemical spill twelve years before, as well as some smaller ones that had been planted months ago by the first transgenics to move into the area.  The afternoon sun glittered through the treetops, bouncing off the yellow and red leaves, eventually falling to illuminate the brown ones on the ground.  The area served as a contrast to the drab and depressing buildings and concrete that characterized the rest of Terminal City, as well as to the urban landscape Max had known for much of her life.

Joshua sat under a tree, picking apart a leaf.

Hey, big fella, Max greeted, sitting down next to him.  I thought Id find you here.

Nice to spend time outside, he explained with a weak smile, glancing up only briefly from his leaf.  Couldnt do it before...ever before.  He paused for a moment, staring at the leaf, and then began shredding it more vigorously.  May not get to in the future, either.

Max closed her hand around one of Joshuas, forcing him to be still and look at her.  If youre talking about the DNA dealio, well take care of it.  She ignored his shaking head and moved on, lightening her tone.  Im not gonna let them take you or anyone at Jam Pony.  Whos a girl gonna talk to to keep her sane?

Didnt know Normal kept you sane, joked Logan, stepping into the green area with a smile on his face.

Max grinned and played along.  Well, you know.  Its a lot easier to tolerate him when Im not hearing bip bip bip all day long.

...and now that you have a reason for not showing up to work, Logan added as he stood in front of Max and Joshua.  Max was too busy feigning exasperation to notice the small wince Logan couldnt quite hide.

I seem to remember somebody asking me to spend my workdays chasing smugglers and fishing files from locked buildings.

Didnt you do most of that at night?

Busted, Max agreed with a grin.

Besides, it had to be done, Logan pointed out, a hint of the old righteous indignation coming through in his voice and his eyes as he spoke.  You know it did.  And sometimes it seems like things are just getting worse out there.

Joshua finally broke in, unable to let that comment slide.  Things arent so great in here, either.

Yeah.  Maxs joking mood evaporated.  We gotta get this thing straightened out.  The rest of the worlds just gonna have to wait.

Logan eyed her, then looked around for a minute.  He began speaking while still focused on some faraway point beyond the trees.  The thing is...Im not sure how long it will. 


Washington D.C.

The situation is unchanged from yesterday, sir, a colonel in uniform said, after saluting briefly. He laid a report on the generals desk in front of him.

Very good, Colonel, the other man replied with a nod.  Dismissed.

The colonel turned on his heel and walked out of the office.  Rising from his seat, the general inserted the report into a briefcase, and strode out of the room.  Downstairs, he exited the building and climbed into the rear seat of a Buick.  The driver nodded at him curtly before beginning the drive out of the city.

Reaching the outskirts of the city, the general transferred into another Buick that was parked in a deserted commuter lot, barely taking time to glance at the weeds growing through the cracked pavement.  He drove this car himself, taking a circuitous route until he reached a small office building that contained several suites.  He parked and stepped down the stairs into the basement, entering the rearmost office suite.  The reception area was deserted, and the general passed through it without a second glance, walking into the back room and closing the door behind him.

Sitting at a large conference table were two women and two men. McKenzie, greeted one of the men.  What did you find out?

Unchanged, General McKenzie responded, sitting down and setting the briefcase on the table.  He didnt bother to open it.  Theyre no more aggressive today than they were yesterday.

Thats good to know, said a woman with bobbed hair.  Buys us some more time.  But it still doesnt change the fact that our military is woefully unprepared to match the aggressive buildup there, much less their plans for future engagement. The project is becoming more and more necessary every day.

The first man nodded his agreement.  Its our best strategy.  We need to deploy those soldiers there as well as other locations.  This past year has really hurt us.

The man and woman who had not yet spoken looked at each other, each pausing and then nodding as well.  The man, clearly another general, was in uniform, while the woman wore an expensive business suit. They turned to the rest of the group and the woman spoke. All right.  Lets do it.

The others smiled in anticipation.

END OF PROLOGUE

 
Streets of Seattle  Thursday, November 4, Early Morning

All Im saying is its got to be pretty advantageous, Sketchy commented to Original Cindy, as they rode their bikes down the street.  Having a birthday on the anniversary of the Lafayette riots pretty much means you can do whatever you want while the sector police are focusing on Sector 11.

Whatever, his coworker snorted.  Original Cindy aint got the scrilla to do whatever she wants.  Why you think Im pedalin for Normal on my birthday?

Pity? Sketchy kidded with a lopsided grin, and Original Cindy laughed through a smile and shook her head.

Dont I wish.  They stopped to wait for traffic to pass and she became thoughtful.  But it is kinda nice this time.  Should be easier to see my squeeze.

You keep telling me about this Ginger, Sketchy prodded. The road cleared and they crossed the street.  When you gonna let us meet her?

Original Cindys answer was emphatic. It aint gonna be tonight.

Sketchy, clearly imagining the two of them together as a dopey grin spread across his face, rounded a corner without looking and nearly rode in front of a car.  He stopped short, startled out of his reverie, and watched as the driver sped away, the faint sound of cursing left behind.

Original Cindy stood astride her bike on the opposite sidewalk, watching with some amusement.  The power of the male mind, she observed. One-tracked as ever.

He was turning against the light, Sketchy protested, as he pedaled up to join her.  She just rolled her eyes.  Seriously.  Did you see the way he blazed out of here?

If you can handle crossing the street without fantasizing yourself into a pancake, Im splittin to deliver this package.  Original Cindys got work to do.  Birthday tips dont come along every day.

Sketchy nodded with a grin.  Gotcha.  See ya for lunch then.

They split up, Sketchy riding north and Original Cindy a short distance west. Two blocks down the street, she leaned her bike against a lamppost and bounced up a set of stairs.

Experience having taught her that few doorbells worked in this part of town, she skipped the bell and knocked on the door of the run-down brownstone.  When a man of about forty answered, she flashed her brightest innocent-messenger grin and revealed a package with a flourish.

Look what the birthday girl brought you, she announced with a mischievous twitch of her eyebrow.


Panic Room/Logan's Quarters, Terminal City

Logan's eyes fluttered open, a second before his face contorted in pain.  He let out a long, slow hiss, straining against an invisible pain, his hands gripping the twisted blanket.  His eyes wandered around the room, finally focusing on a spot on the ceiling before he shut them tightly, teeth bared in an ugly grimace.  

A knock on the door made him jump, and he took several deep breaths, visibly relaxing his tense muscles.  Finally, he sat up, still obviously uncomfortable.  "Yeah," he barked.  

The door to the panic room swung open and Alec stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe.  "Rise and shine," he started to drawl, then stopped as he caught the look on Logan's face.  "Uh, you okay?"  

Logan took a second to answer, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk.  "I'm fine," he said shortly.  

Alec started to disagree, but thought better of it and took a step into the room.  "Luke wanted me to find you.  The surveillance grid went down a few minutes ago and nobody can figure out what's wrong."  

Logan started to stand up, then slumped back down onto the mattress, shooting a furtive glance at the exoskeleton standing beside the wall next to the bunk.  

"You, uh, need some help or something?" Alec asked.  

"Or something," Logan retorted sharply.  In the next moment, he hissed again and his back arched as another wave of pain gripped him.  "Just...give me a minute, all right?  Tell Luke I'll be down in a few minutes."

Alec hesitated, and let out a little sigh.  "Whatever you say."  He turned to go, then swiveled back around.  "Look, Logan...you can't keep this up forever.  She's gonna figure it out."  

Logan's head jerked up, and his eyes narrowed.  "And I thought I'd heard it all. Alec, giving a lecture on the virtues of honesty?"  He let out a short laugh.  

"Hey, I took the fall last time you two weren't straight with each other, so indulge me, okay?  Speaking of which..." Alec, obviously uncomfortable, trailed off again.  "You look like you might be needing some help soon.  Maybe on my next supply run, I should stop by your place and pick up your wheel"

"No."  Logan's voice was hard.  Then he sighed, and his anger seemed to fade.  "Sorry.  It's okay for now.  I'll...I'll let you know."    

"You're the man."  Alec threw his hands up in defeat, backing out and shutting the door, leaving Logan sitting on the edge of bunk.  Breathing heavily, Logan clenched his jaw as he reached around to massage his back.  


Atrium Courtyard, Terminal City

Max strode purposefully across the courtyard to the Command Center, oblivious to everything around her.  Finally realizing someone was calling her name, she stopped and turned, smiling as she recognized Ginger approaching from behind. 

"Hey, how's it going?"  

She waited till Ginger caught up, and then started walking again.  "In kind of a hurry  surveillance is down."  

"Always something, isn't it?" Ginger commented.  "How you doing?" 

Max shrugged.  "Good as can be, I guess.  At least I haven't had to pull Mole off Logan in a while.  You?"  

"Okay." She shrugged.  I was thinking of heading out later  Original Cindy invited me for dinner.  I didn't even know it was her birthday  not like I could really get her anything."  

Max stopped and looked at her in surprise, then smacked her forehead with her palm.  "I totally spaced!" she exclaimed, her face falling.  "And there's no way I can leave  not with things like they are...listen, tell her I'm really sorry.  I'll make it up to her...somehow," she finished softly.  

"Things the way they are?" Ginger repeated, sounding confused. "Something up?"  

"Nothing new.  I'm just staying put, try to head off any more mutiny attempts.  And Clemente's deadline for Joshua...I just need to be here."  She started walking again, obviously preoccupied.  

"Hey, that reminds me. I had the strangest conversation with Joshua the other day. He said that when Logan got the virus a while back, Joshua transfused him and 'fixed his legs.'  What'd the virus have to do with his legs?"  

Max smiled at Joshua's simple explanation.  "Nothing.  Logan got shot a while back, messed up his spinal cord, landed him in a wheelchair for good.  Till Joshua's blood repaired the damage."  As they reached the door to the main Command building, Max stopped once more and looked sideways at Ginger, shrugging again. "Old news."

Ginger's eyes had widened slightly, and now she just stared at Max. "Pretty amazing 'old news,'" she remarked. "Anyway, you better go.  I'll catch you later."  With that, she turned and headed back across the courtyard.  Max watched her go, then reached out and pulled open the heavy door.  


Unidentified Office

The office was sparsely furnished with only with a plain wooden desk and a couple of file cabinets.  A lone window appeared to look out onto an alley through partly shuttered blinds.  Mounds of papers and a laptop computer, as well as a multi-line phone, occupied the desk.  The receiver was off the hook, and the cord stretched across the desk, disappearing around the corner of a massive desk chair, behind which the occupant was hidden.  

"Go ahead," said the person in the chair.  The voice, obviously that of a man, was gravelly. The chair rocked back and forth slightly, but he remained facing the wall. "What do you have for me today?"  

On the other end of the phone, a low, but decidedly female voice responded, "Some of the...inhabitants...are restless.  A few weeks ago they almost staged a rebellion.  I think some of them could be swayed to try again."

"Hmmm...maybe we could end this thing that way instead of having to wait forever for the cops to make a move," the man pondered.  "Go on."

"452 is worried about Joshua  um, the canine transgenic who started this whole mess...the one in the 'wanted' poster on every lamppost in the city.  The cops are negotiating with her for his surrender, but...it sounds like they might let him go if some DNA they got off the girl doesn't match up with his.  They're waiting for the test results." 

"That's not good...not good at all.  We need these people to be afraid of him."  The man paused.  "You got any background on him?"  

"From what they're saying in here, a transgenic just like him attacked some sector cops earlier this year, and the cops brought Joshua in, thinking it was him.  I think if you could get people scared that he might try something like that again, the police might not be so eager to deal with 452."  The woman cleared her throat nervously.    

"I'll look into that.  Good work.  Call me when you have anything new."

"Yes, sir." 


Seattle Street

A gray van without any back windows sat at the curb across the alley from Jam Pony.  Inside, two men in jeans and windbreakers sat in the back, along with an impressive array of electronic equipment that blinked and crackled at intervals.  Both perked up suddenly as they heard the shrill ring of a cell phone emanating from the speakers.  

"What do you people want from me now?" Normal's voice came over the airwaves.   

A short silence followed, and then Normal said, "Yeah, well, the Nubian Princess is out on a run, miracle of all miracles."  Another pause, and then, "We haven't had anyone show up for a couple of weeks.  Can't keep running Ellis Island forever, missy...I know what today is, but I don't have any runs scheduled near you today, so you'll have to get her or Sketchy to come to that cesspool on their own time...hey, no skin off my nose.  All right, all right, I'll give her the message.  And one more thing...tell the baby Uncle Reagan says hi." 

After that, the only thing the men heard was the usual yelling at various messengers, until finally one of the men reached over and turned down the volume.  "What do you think?" he asked the other.  

"I think it's the best we're gonna get, thanks to the scrambler they put on the cell phone.  I was beginning to think Martin was off his rocker making us pull this duty, but I think we just got our probable cause.  Let's go."  

 

Command Center, Terminal City

When Max arrived at Command, Logan was at the console with Luke, both of them working to fix whatever had caused the surveillance outage. "Any luck?" she asked him, a little hesitantly.  

Logan looked up and lifted his eyebrows before turning back. "Not yet," he said with a slight smile. "But we're working on it."  He absentmindedly reached around to massage his back, a grimace on his face.

"What's wrong? Pull a muscle or somethin'?" Max asked him, walking over with a concerned look on her face.  

"Yeah, I guess so," he said dismissively.

"I ever tell you transgenics have magic hands?" Max teased.  "I can give you a demonstration later...if you want," she said, the last few words slightly hesitant.

"Sounds good."  Logan flicked a small smile back at her.

Luke cleared his throat, and Max broke her gaze away from the back of Logan's head.  "So, uh, we need that coverage, especially in the sewers," she continued.  "Otherwise anybody can stroll in whenever they feel like it." 

Still looking at the screen, Logan murmured, "We're on it.  Just gotta work a little magic..." He trailed off, typing something rapidly and concentrating intently.  "There," he announced, as all the video screens lit up with the various views provided by the strategically placed cameras.    

"Super-hack saves the day again," Max joked.  "Thanks." 

Logan pushed back his chair, and looked up into her eyes.  As he stood, the exoskeleton whirring, Luke called out, "Hey, turn that up!"  

Both Max and Logan turned and followed his gaze to the small television set, where some grainy video footage was playing.  It took Max only a split second to realize that the image was of Joshua, in a confrontation with police.  He looked enraged, spitting and barking at the men with guns and batons who surrounded him.  The image was replaced with a reporter, who was saying,

"This exclusive footage was obtained by Channel 3 today from a source inside the Seattle PD.  According to the source, the video was shot when a suspect in the brutal attacks on sector police several months ago was detained and held at police headquarters.  The suspect escaped shortly after this shocking encounter, but is now believed to be a transgenic, the same one who killed Annie Fisher, a young blind woman, in the sewers.  No official reply regarding this development has been issued from the department.  We do know that witnesses at the Jam Pony X-Press hostage situation described a similar canine transgenic, and it is possible that he is among those inside Terminal City..." 


Clemente's office, Seattle PD 

"...As always, we will keep you updated on developments.  For now, I'm Patrick Long for Channel 3."    

Cursing under his breath, Clemente turned the set off and swiveled his chair back to face the men standing in front of his desk.  Taking a deep breath, he folded his hands calmly on top of the papers scattered across the desk surface.  "As you can see, I have my hands full," he told them.  "Who did you say you were?"  

One of them, a man with dark hair and skin the color of burnished copper, wearing a suit and tie identical to that worn by the other three, took a step towards the desk and flashed a badge.  "Special Agent Martin, NSA."

Clemente leaned back in his chair.  "Why wasn't I informed that you were involved?  Seattle PD has jurisdiction here." 

"With all due respect, Commander, you need all the help you can get.  A while back, we got a tip from an insider that Jam Pony was acting as an underground railroad for transgenics into Terminal City, but we've had a hard time getting the evidence"

"Because there isn't any," Clemente interrupted.  "We've been watching them like a hawk ever since the hostage situation."

"So have we.  And today we recorded Reagan Ronald taking a phone call from a woman who we think is X5-452.  The contents of that conversation give us  I mean, you  enough evidence to bring charges against him, Cynthia McEachin, and Calvin Theodore."

"With all due respect," Clemente imitated slowly, "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job."

Agent Martin took another step closer to the desk and leaned on it, palms flat down, inches away from Clemente's own hands.  "Commander, I came here as a courtesy, to allow your men to bring these suspects in.  But truth be told, you don't have a choice in the matter.  This is a national security matter now, and I'm acting on direct authority from the National Security Adviser  and the President  to do anything and everything necessary to shut down the movement of transgenics in this city."  

His eyes flicked upwards towards the darkened television screen.  "Looks like things are going to get even more out of control on your watch," he observed icily.  "If you don't comply and arrest the traitors, I'll have no choice but to report your dereliction of duty to the federal authorities and commandeer this investigation."  

Clemente stared at him in obstinate silence for several long moments.  "I want whatever evidence you have, as soon as you can get it here.  It better be good."  He sighed, maintaining eye contact with the man standing in front of him.  "I'll have the arrest warrants sworn out and pick them up."  

Agent Martin reached inside his coat pocket and tossed several packets of paper down on the desk.  "Three arrest warrants--complete with photos--signed, sealed, and delivered.  Our evidence is already logged and waiting for your inspection."  

 END OF ACT I

Command Center, Terminal City  Noon

After a quick lunch at the mess hall, Max hurriedly ducked into the Command Center and approached Luke at the desk.  Any word on the DNA analysis?  Weve only got a few days left, she asked anxiously, looking over his shoulder at the screen in front of him.  It showed nothing but the usual monitoring of the premises, provided by the security cameras.  A TV nearby remained tuned to the news and the continuous Joshua coverage.

Nothing yet, Luke said, looking at Max sympathetically.  Maybe Logans heard somethinghe left here in a hurry a little while ago.

Max sighed.  Know which way he went?

Luke shrugged.  I dont know.  He said something about a phone call, but he didnt want to deal with it here.  He turned back to his monitor as Max straightened up and left the Command Center.



Logans Quarters

Max entered Logans quarters and looked around for him.  Logan?  He was nowhere to be found, although the jacket tossed on the back of a chair indicated that he had been here recently.  She wandered around for a minute, and when she heard the door of the panic room start to open, she approached it.

Logan was surprised to see her as he stepped out of the room.  Max.  He gave her a smile and walked past her on his way to the sink.  Whats up?

I was wondering whether youve heard anything more about the DNA analysis...how theyre coming with it.

Nope.  Havent heard anything since the other day.  He poured himself a large glass of water.

Max sighed.  Great.  She flounced down onto a stool, idly kicking at the leg.  Wanna go get something to eat?  I love your cooking, but Im really in the mood for some grease.

Nah.  Im not really hungry, Logan declined, gazing absentmindedly down into the water in the glass.  You go ahead.

Max paused, looking uncertain.  Then she smiled and gave a little laugh.  Well, Im not that hungry.  I had a sandwich at the mess hall.  Its just not enough to fuel the afternoon, if ya know what I mean.

Listen...speaking of supply runs...I got some money we can use next time.  He finally snapped out of his daze and started drinking the water.  Should be enough to get us through for a couple of months.

Maxs eyes widened in surprise, as she exclaimed, Youre kidding.  Howd you manage that?  Then she paused, remembering, and raised an eyebrow mischievously.  Did ya run across some bad guys whose wallets needed lightening or somethin?

Something like that, Logan agreed.  Couple weeks ago.  The checks taking a while to come through, but as soon as I get it from my banker... 

Your banker?  Max interrupted, scrunching her face in puzzlement.  Whyd you give him the money?!  Theyve gotta be tracking any activity on your account, with you wanted for arrest.

Logan turned to her and spoke reluctantly.  Well, its more of an inheritance...from Renfro.  As for the account...well, Lydecker is the best damn estate executor Ive ever dealt with.

Max leapt up from her position on the stool in surprise.  You got money from Renfro?  Why didnt you tell me? 

Figured you wouldnt be too thrilled about it, he answered.

I dont have a problem with it at all, Max said, her laugh of denial clearly indicating that she wasnt telling the whole truth.

Logan raised his voice.  Come on, Max!  Youre telling me that you dont have any qualms whatsoever about getting your financial support from the people who tortured you and spent eleven years hunting you down?

Max paused to look at him with her arms crossed, lips pursed, as if he had a point but she didnt want to admit it.  Maybe I do.  But its money.  Im sure as hell not going to turn it down.

Fine, Logan said.  With any luck, Ill have it in a couple days. 

You know, if youd told me about this money sooner, we coulda been planning how to spend it.  Max dropped her arms to her sides.  She took a couple of steps, as if to start pacing, but she stopped short and turned back to face Logan.  I cant believe you were going to keep this secret from me.

Yeah, well

The ring of his cell phone cut off Logan's reply.  He looked torn for a moment, glancing back and forth at Max and the phone, and then reached for the phone.  Yeah?  He listened to the voice on the other end for a few moments, then asked the caller to hang on and turned to Max.  He spoke in a voice low enough to not be heard over the phone, knowing Max would hear it.  I need to talk to this informant.  Ill see you later.

Logan turned away, engrossed in the call.  Max stood there in disbelief for a moment, then shook her head and walked out of the room.

 

Jam Pony

Normal, Original Cindy called, as she sauntered down the ramp and approached his desk.  1242 Descartes had a drop too.  Package goes to 73 Euclid.

You agreed to an unauthorized pickup? Normal frowned, snatching the package out of her hands.

One more package does a business good, she shot back, leaning one elbow on the counter. Sides, the customer was very generous with his birthday wishes.  Now how can a girl turn her back on someone like that?

Normal came out from behind his desk and handed her a large, padded envelope.  Turn your back on me and walk away.  Hot run to 293 Samuelson.  Go.

After I take my break, she snorted, slipping the envelope into her bag and walking toward the lockers.  Normal just rolled his eyes, sighed, and stepped into the back room to post an announcement. 

Some time later, as he checked over some paperwork in his office, he heard the sound of song and giggles and went to check it out.

At the lockers, a group of messengers was gathered around Original Cindy, who was gleefully crumpling up some wrapping paper.  Sky and Sketchy were exchanging wrapping-paper curve balls, while others looked on and laughed.

Hey!  You have better things to do than to be playing games on the job! Normal exclaimed, waving most of the messengers away from the lockers.  Get out there and do some work.  Move it.  Move it.  Go.

How you gonna rain on a girls party like that, huh?" Original Cindy protested, stuffing a box into her locker and slamming the door shut.  

I just did.  Get out of my sight.  Normal waved his hand in an effort to shoo them out.  Before they moved a step, however, the rear door opened and three cops stepped inside.  Normal turned and addressed them with annoyed caution.  Uh, may I help you? 

All three cops flashed their badges.  Reagan Ronald, Cynthia McEachin, and Calvin Theodore?  

Normal and his messengers stiffened.  Before they could think of a suitable reply, they found themselves being handcuffed, as the rest of the messengers stopped what they were doing and looked on.  

Youre under arrest for harboring fugitives from the law.

What?  Do you see any fugitives here?  Take a look.  Go ahead, Normal protested.

Tell your lawyer, not me, the cop answered swiftly.

Hey, OC, what a way for the day to go, huh?  Sketchy commented ironically.

She turned around to chide the cop cuffing her, impeding his efforts.  Tell me you are not even arresting Original Cindy on her birthday!

You want resisting arrest, too, birthday girl? he sneered at her.  Hold still.  The cop was greeted with a loud, frustrated grunt.

Out the back door.  All three of you, the third cop ordered.  He and his colleagues escorted the messengers and their boss out the door and into a waiting patrol car.  Original Cindys angry protests echoed out the windows and across the abandoned alley as the car drove away.

 

Sector 4

A homeless man and woman stood in front of a storefront window.  The window display held a bank of TV sets for sale, and every one was turned to the Channel 3 News, which repeated ad nauseum the video of a long-haired transgenic with claws and big, pointy teeth, viciously attacking sector cops.

All this time and they still dont have that murderer, the woman commented with disgust.  That poor girl wont rest in peace until they do.

Shows you what good the police are these days, agreed the man next to her.  He paused as the video reached a particularly frightening part, and then resumed his angry speech.  Taking every payoff they can get and then sitting on their asses when the time comes to take some real action.

 

Gates Playground, Sector 5

A group of parents stood in a protective clot around the battered seesaws their children were playing on.  How horrible, one of the mothers remarked, as she blew on her hands to warm them in the fall air.

Cant even let your kids out of your sight these days, a father agreed in frustration.  They could sneak into the sewers and that freak would get em.  You know how theyre fascinated with anything transgenic these days.  I caught my daughter wearing green face paint and fangs, getting ready for school.  You know how long it took to scrub that off?

Into the sewers?  Hes already come out to kill people!  Who says he wont do it again?

 

Steel Pole Saloon, Sector 9

You ask me, the cops are all being paid off by those transgenics, a drunken pool player slurred to his opponent.  Why else havent they bothered to get that guy by now?

Way of the world, my friend.  His opponent, just as inebriated, gestured with his pool cue at the women fighting in the ring.  We go about our business and the po-pos go about theirs.  Doesnt even matter who gets hurt in the meantime.

 

Johnsons Bar & Grill, Sector 7  Late Afternoon

A run-down diner in the industrial part of town was full of the usual clientele, mostly beer-bellied men who spent their evenings laboring for the peanuts the factories could afford to pay. Televisions blared the afternoon sports matches as the patrons rowdy conversations bounced off the walls.  Around a corner, toward the back, a group of five men shared a meal at a round table.  They spoke more quietly than the rest of the customers, although with each beer their voices crept louder.

Going pretty well, wouldnt you say? one of them grinned, raising his mug in a toast before slugging part of its contents down.  People are ticked.  Wont be long before theyre ready to take action.

Not nearly ticked enough, Bob, a second man countered with a worried glare.  To do this right, were gonna have to get them pissed off to the point of riot.  Its not gonna work otherwise.

You worry too much, Martinez, scoffed the guy sitting next to him.  What are a bunch of freaks gonna do to us?

Martinez looked at him as if he were a bug.  Have you even been watching the news this year?  Theyre all ex-soldiers!  Were gonna sic the citys population on a hundred and fifty transgenics trained to fight and kill.  Its gonna take a lot of fear and anger to get that done.

So well do it, Bob shrugged.  We finish here and then we go out and get em good and riled up.

The fourth guy nodded.  Theyre halfway there.  A murdered blind girl and a lazy police force have done some of the work for us.  Wont be too long before the citys ready to storm Terminal City and get rid of the freaks once and for all.

None of the five men noticed a heavyset woman climb out of a nearby booth and amble out of the diner.  They were too busy making plans.

Dont worry, Martinez.  Well get whats coming to us, said the fifth man, who had been silent during the conversation. He slapped the table for emphasis.  Well do the job and get that million bucks.  Even split five ways, itll make for one good payday.

Yeah, well, your investors better not let us down.  They want us to do this, they damn well better come through on the cash.

 

Living Quarters, Terminal City

Max climbed the stairs and looked for Joshua at his bedroll.  Not finding him, she was about to turn away and check elsewhere when he emerged from Gem and Elefterias room.

Joshua!  There you are, she exclaimed, happy to see him.  What were ya doin in there?  Playing with the baby?

Saying goodbye.  His eyes were downcast as he walked past her.

Maxs smile faded, and she stepped in front of him to block his path.  Why?  Going on a supply run?  Those are just temporary excursions, you know.  She made a weak attempt at a joke, knowing that wasnt what he had in mind but not sure what was.

Joshua pushed past her.  Max followed, but he didnt say anything until they left the barracks and stepped outside.  Then he finally stopped and faced her.  Im turning myself in to the police.

What?!  Joshua

Its easier for everybody, Max, he interrupted loudly.  You wont have to worry about Original Cindy and...and Sketchy and Normal getting arrested.  Jam Pony wont get closed down.  Transgenics can still come here...

Dont be ridiculous.  Maxs voice took on the stern, big-sisterly tone it often had with Joshua.  You dont need to give yourself up to keep them safe.  Trust me.  When the DNA test results come in, youll be off the hook.

Will I, Max?  Joshua stepped away, pacing in frustration.  You know what cops are like.  You know what people think.  They dont believe tests.  They believe what they see on the news.  He kicked a stray can, following it and kicking it again when it rolled to a stop.  People see someone violent.  People see a transgenic killing them.

White did the killing, not you.

They dont know that.  Even if we tell them it was a different transgenic, they wont believe us, and theyll still be angry.  Angry at us all...for killing Annie.

Obviously in pain at Annies memory, Joshua smashed his fist sideways into the brick wall of the building, then slid down it and drew his knees to his chest.  If I go, theyll have someone to call their murderer.  If I hadnt gone to see Annie that night...I should have stayed away...

Listen to me.  Max dropped to Joshuas level and stared at him.  You did not cause Annies death.  You couldnt help what happened in those sewers.

But I can help what happens now, he answered, raising his head and looking into her eyes.  I can help all of you.  Im going, Max.

Joshua"

Max was interrupted by the ring of her cell phone.  With an apologetic sigh to Joshua, she answered it.  Max.

Max!  Original Cindys voice blared from the phone and Max held the phone away from her ear.  You are not gonna believe where I am calling from.

Dare I ask?"  Max said, smiling, clearly expecting birthday hijinks.  A little laugh escaped in her reply.

They got us down here in lockup!  In the background, Max could hear Sketchy and Normal arguing.  I dont know how they found out what we been doin, or why they picked now to haul our asses in here, but

They what?!  Maxs smile disappeared and her voice rose in indignation. Already?!

Original Cindys voice moved quickly from frustration to suspicion, and then to indignation of her own.  What you mean, already?  You knew about this?!

I was trying to prevent it.  Look, well get you out of there, okay?  One way or another.

You better.  Original Cindy is not gonna spend her birthday getting hit on by the cons.  And what am I supposed to do about my date tonight? 

Ill tell Ginger what happened, Max promised.  Im sorry, boo.  Just hang on.  Well take care of it.

A minute later Max hung up, looking at Joshua.  She opened her mouth, but he waved her off.  I heard.  Theyre in jail already.

Joshua, you have to stick around, Max told him.  We need you here to help us get them out.

He nodded and stood up.  What can I do?

 

Sector 7, Several Blocks Away from Terminal City

The heavyset woman pushed her way through the edge of a crowd of angry people as the sky darkened and thunder rumbled.  Most of them were facing a man with a bullhorn at one side of the square.  Many of them brandished weapons.  Most were chanting or shouting.

What are the police doing about the transgenics? the man with the bullhorn shouted.

Nothing! the crowd shouted back.

How much longer are we gonna stand for it?

No more!

What are we gonna do about the transgenics?

Take em down!

The woman passed the crowd and hurried into an empty side street, heading for a pay phone as a hard rain began to fall.  Thunder didnt conceal the noise of the crowd shouting behind her. 

When do we move?

Nightfall!

 

Logans Quarters, Terminal City

Logan answered his ringing cell phone, tucking it between his ear and his shoulder in order to free up his hands.  Hello? he said, shaking a couple of pills out of a bottle and swallowing them.

Logan? the heavyset woman said on the other end.  I saw the wanted posters a while back, and I dont know where you are or how much you can do, but I need you to give a message to Eyes Only.

Will do.  Whats up?

The urgency in the womans voice was unmistakable.  I heard some guys talking in a bar.  Ill tell him everything they said.  But first...you need to turn on the news. 

END OF ACT II

Command Center, Terminal City

All the usual suspects stood at the bank of monitors in the Command Center, tensely watching coverage of the angry crowd.  Logan soon joined them, ignoring the glare from Mole.  We need to end this thing.

Tell me about it, Max agreed, glancing up at him briefly and then turning back to the monitors.  They look like they just might actually go through with it.

There must be a couple hundred of them out there, Alec commented.

And theyre being goaded by a few guys who have no clue what theyre getting into, Logan added.  Friend of mine overheard their conversation.  This crowd isnt going to go away.  These people are violent and theyre coming here.

We can take em.  Moles voice was confident as he spoke around his cigar stub.  He took the cigar out of his mouth and set it in a nearby ashtray.

Yeah, but at what cost?

Im going out there, Max said suddenly, pushing past Logan and rushing toward the door.

Max!  Wait!  She whirled around, barely able to remain in one place while waiting for Logan to catch up.  What are you doing?

Going to mow the lawn.  What does it look like Im doing?

You cant just go out there, he told her.  Its already dangerous enough.  Now theyre all fired up.  These arent just protestors with signs.  Theyre armed and theyre violent.  Youre diving right into enemy territory.

What I do, she answered, waving her hands open at her sides and speaking impatiently.

Max, hes right, Alec protested.  You can do a lot more good in here than you can out there right now.  Those people will just jump you the second they see you.  We have to get organized.

You organize them.  I have to talk to Clemente.  Hes got to get that crowd under control.

And what makes you think he can? Mole sneered.  Civilians are lousy at taking orders and you know it.  Better to let them do what theyre gonna do and teach em a lesson.

And what lesson is that, Mole?  That they can come to kill us and then well be the big, bad transgenics who kill more of them?  Uh-uh.  Max shook her head.  We have to put a stop to this before anyone gets hurt.

Before Logan or Alec could ask her to use the phone instead, she turned around and hurried out of the building. 

 

Seattle Police Headquarters

Sketchy looked up and smiled as Original Cindy was escorted back into the holding cell where the three of them had spent the last several hours.  Enjoy your trip to the ladies?

Dont even start with me, she answered grumpily.  I had three inmates promise to improve my day and none of them were the proper gender.  Original Cindy is not in the mood for jokes.

You ask me, the joke is that were in here in the first place.  Sketchy paused, and then turned to Normal as if hed suddenly thought of something.  Whos been running Jam Pony all day while youre gone?

I used my phone call to get a hold of Druid, Normal answered, tossing a piece of fuzz to the floor and looking bored.  Hes holding the fort...or so I assume.  I just hope the moron can keep things together when they take us to Langford.

Theyre taking us to Langford, Original Cindy repeated, phrasing the question as a statement.  No way.  I cannot believe Im going back there.

Normal looked up at that, curiosity and a hint of I-knew-it gleaming in his eye.  So youve got priors.  Why am I not surprised?

Dont get excited, she swiftly informed him, rolling her eyes.  Max got in trouble one time a coupla years ago, thanks to her whacked-out physiology, and I went to get her out.

Normal raised his eyebrow, looking surprised, and his face softened.  A pause followed Original Cindys statement, and Normal sat back, looking thoughtful.  When he next spoke, his voice held none of the usual sarcasm or condescension.  You grunts had this whole other life going on the whole time, didnt you?

Homegirl did, she nodded.  I got roped into it along the way. 

Takes a good friend to go to prison for one.  Normal almost sounded impressed.

Yeah, and its gonna take a good friend to get us out.  Original Cindy glanced at her watch, then went to the bars of the cell and called to the guard.  Hey!  We gonna get to eat anytime soon?

 

Seattle Street, Sector 7 - Dusk

Max emerged from an isolated manhole, glanced around to make sure there was nobody in sight, and purposefully strode down the street.  Her breath clouded in the cold air.  She glanced up at the sky and turned up the collar on her jacket.  She was adjusting her hood and scarf, covering as much of her face as she could, when she rounded a corner and found herself face-to-face with a sector cop.

Hey, whats a nice girl doing in this part of the city at dusk in a rainstorm? he asked with a sardonic grin on his face.

Just lookin for someplace warm and dry to get my drink on, Max shrugged.  Is there a problem?

Maybe not, the officer answered.  He stepped a little closer, gripping Maxs arm. Depends on what youve got.

I dont think Ive got anything youd want.

Oh, I doubt that.

Without waiting to decide whether the look on his face was greedy or lecherous, Max pulled her arm across her body.  Since the cops hand was still attached to it, his body followed, and she took the opportunity to land a cross on his face with her other hand.  He let go of her and took a swing of his own, but Max expertly dodged his punch and kicked him in the gut.  As he doubled over, she landed an uppercut into his nose.  With unusually quick reflexes, he grabbed her hand as she was following through and yanked on it.  This brought her within inches of him, and he grabbed her other arm.

It was at that moment that his partner rounded the corner and saw what was going on.  Jones!  What you doing?  You gotta feel up every girl that comes along?  

Jones froze, opening his mouth to protest.

Max instantly quit fighting and played up the helpless, sexy girl act.  Thank God you came along, officer.  I dont know what he would have done if you hadnt.

The second officer stepped closer and did a double take when he saw Maxs face, now partially exposed as her scarf fluttered open, loosened during the scuffle.  You!  Youre that girl whos

He didnt get any farther.

Max quickly shoved Jones out of the way and ran over to the second officer, elbowing him in the face before he had a chance to react.  As he hunched over in pain, she grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him down to the street.  Max dispatched him with a swift blow, then turned back to Jones.

Jones was calling for backup.  Max ripped his radio off his uniform and tossed it over her shoulder, using the same hand as it came forward from the toss to land a punch.  Jones reeled, and when Max went into a roundhouse kick, he jumped aside and shoved her with his full body weight, sending her to the ground.  Her cell phone clattered to the wet pavement, but she focused on jumping up with fists forward and slamming into the cop.  Just as she finished knocking him out, booted footsteps approached and a group of several cops and National Guard members came into view.

All this for little old me? Max said with innocent eyes and a cocky smile.  Why, you shouldnt have.

The cops and soldiers bore down on her.  Max punched and kicked her way through the group, the cell phones insistent ringing going untended in the fray.  Max ducked low and kicked the legs out from under one soldier, and while she turned to fight another cop, he radioed his superior from his position on the ground.  It wasnt long before more cops appeared on the scene, and this time they were followed by some very angry civilians.  The cell phone quit ringing.  Max kept fighting.

 

Command Center, Terminal City

She didnt answer, Logan said, his brow furrowed in concern.

No surprise there, Mole growled.  We need to deal with this.  Max isnt around to help.  Skip her.  He stood up suddenly, stalking off and barking out orders to various transgenics.

Look, Im gonna go help out with this.  You keep trying her, all right? Alec said to Logan, in a low voice, standing next to him.

You go ahead.  Im gonna see if I can get through to Clemente.

What?  Alec blinked in surprise.  Hell just arrest you as soon as he knows where you are.

Tell me about it.  Thats why Im gonna have one of my guys get a message through.  Logan dialed a number and put the phone to his ear, turning away to focus on the conversation.  Alec watched him for a second, then walked out to join Mole in making preparations.

The TV blared in the background as Logan walked out of the Command Center.

...crowd grows more agitated by the second.  Angered by the lack of police action against the transgenics, many are expressing a desire to take matters into their own hands.  The question now is...will they?  What would the result of such an undertaking be?  And why arent the police taking a more active role to prevent it?  Stay tuned as we bring you new developments when they happen...

Matt, Logan said when a voice on the other end answered.  I need a favor.

First things first, said Matt Sung.  Are you in Terminal City?

Yeah, I'm here.  Listen.  Situations bad.  I need you to tell Clemente something.

Whoa, hold upbefore you start, you need to know Clementes really gunning for you.  And its not just what you did at Jam Pony, either.  Hes got a hold of your file.

What file?

Just about every footprint youve ever left, Sung said, glancing around and lowering his voice.  Including some of the work weve done for Eyes Only.

Logan closed his eyes briefly at the bad news.  Great.

And your friends from the messenger service are in a lot of trouble.  Some guy from the NSA showed up with some pretty hard evidence against them, and we had to bring them in."

Logan sighed.  "Any chance you can make all this go away?"

Ill see what I can do, but Im not making any promises.  Especially not right now.

No, Logan agreed.  Right now we need to take care of whats going down tonight.  Let me tell you what Eyes Only told me... 

 

Seattle Street, Sector 7

Max, clothing ripped and face bruised, eased along the side of a building, flattening herself against it as much as possible.  She glanced at the sky, which was rapidly growing dark, and then peeked around the corner of the building to look at Clementes mobile headquarters.

It was surrounded by angry, violent-looking citizens.  Max slumped in disappointment and frustration.  She watched as Matt Sung fought his way through the crowd and disappeared inside the headquarters.  A surge of angry people attempted to shove their way inside when the door opened, but it was quickly pulled shut.

Half of you stay here, one man called out to the group, using a megaphone to be heard over their shouts.  The other half will go join the rest of the force.  Its time to move!

Half of the crowd turned and stampeded past the spot where Max had been only moments before.

 

Clementes Mobile Headquarters

Detective Sung.  Clementes greeting was impatient and annoyed.  What is it?

This is getting out of hand, sir. Sung gestured out the window at the departing mob.

Im well aware of that, Clemente snapped.  He stood up and began pacing, the tension in his voice matching that of the situation.  But half of my forces are starting to sympathize with that mob.  Even if I can stop it, the same thing is going to happen that happens every time.  The citizens grow more restless, the city puts on more pressure to get the transgenics out of there, and even the feds are losing their patience.  Im trying to keep the peace at least until we get the DNA test results back and the murder suspect apprehended, but to tell you the truth, Detective, it may not be worth it.

I don't know about worth it, Sung answered.  But its necessary, sir.

Im not so sure of that anymore.

Matt Sungs voice grew more forceful as he approached the desk, where Clemente had ended up after pacing.  Sir, I spoke to Logan Cale about it.

You asked a suspect for help?

He offered me valuable information, Commander.  Sungs voice was hard.  We have a situation on our hands and hes trying to help us resolve it.  Refusing him would have been counterproductive.

Clementes eyes remained on Sungs, trying to read them.  Then he broke the gaze and sat down, leaning back in his chair, but retaining his authoritative air.  Yeah?  What did suspect Cale say?

He passed on some information Eyes Only gave him.  For one, the mob has been egged on by a few ringleaders.  For two, and more importantly, those ringleaders and the mob have vastly underestimated the number of transgenics in Terminal City.

By how much?  Clemente asked.  Current estimates place the Terminal City population at two hundred.  Thats not too far off from the slogans that crowd has been shouting.

Well, theyre off by a few hundred, Sung snapped.  By five hundred, to be exact.

Clemente was temporarily silenced by this new information.  Sung put his hands on the desk and leaned over it.  We have two hundred angry and armed citizens threatening a citadel of seven hundred highly trained ex-soldiers.  Cale said the transgenics will fight to the death if necessary.  I believe him.

So we either stop the mob, or... Clemente said, getting the idea.

Sung nodded and finished the thought for him.  ...or those people march on Terminal City and just might get themselves all killed.  And what happens then?  Sung lowered his voice to emphasize the seriousness of what he was saying.  You thought the city was angry at the transgenics before, Commander.  Thats nothing compared to what will happen if they kill two hundred of its citizens.

Clemente closed his eyes.  Sung didnt wait for him to react further.  Seattle will explode.  And then you can forget about keeping the peace.

The commander took a deep breath and rose from his chair to gaze out the window.  That doesnt change the fact that stopping this mob is easier said than done.  Finally he turned back to Sung.  Did Cale happen to offer any constructive suggestions as to how were supposed to do this?  Or was he just full of doom and gloom?

He's going to try to figure out how to stop the attack without killing the rioters, Sung answered, straightening from the desk now that some of the tension had eased.  "He said he would need you to back them up on the outside."

Clemente turned back to gaze out the window again.  The crowd outside was only growing angrier.  Finally he sighed through his nose and spoke.  Let's take this one step at a time, shall we?  We wait to hear their plan.  But for all our sakes, I hope it's a good one."


END OF ACT III 

Near the Front Gates, Terminal City - Nightfall

An army of wary transgenics had followed Mole's orders and were assembling on the roofs, in the alleyways, and in every nook and cranny of Terminal City, most of them armed with the various weapons that had been assembled in preparation for just such a showdown.  Alec strode back into the Command Center to find Logan, with Luke and some other transgenics, huddled around a TV screen, watching the news coverage.  

"Have you heard from Max?" Alec asked.  

Logan looked up and frowned.  "Nope.  Is it as bad as it looks on TV?" He motioned with his head toward the commotion outside.  

"Worse," Alec replied shortly.  "Mole's preparing for all hell to break loose.  He's ready to chop off some heads."  

"Okay, we can't wait for Max anymore.  We need a plan."    

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that.  Everyone's thinking we're just a bunch of shoot-em-up commandos, right?"

Logan nodded impatiently.  "Get to the point, Alec.  We don't have a lot of time."

"Mia," Alec said shortly.  "Remember her?  Well, guess what, buddy?  Lots more like her right here in our own little psych ward."  

Logan nodded again, this time slowly.  "Yeah, you're right.  You know who they are?  If you can get to them before Mole does, we just might be able to get them to work a little magic."

"We better be able to," Alec replied, "or the only magic is going to be that crowd doing a real bloody disappearing act."

Outside, Mole crept among the shadows, checking to make sure that everyone was mobilized as instructed.  A machine gun dangled from a strap thrown across his shoulder, and he held a rifle against his chest.  The noise from the protestors just outside the gates grew louder with every passing moment, and occasionally a flaming bottle would fly over the fence and land with a resounding crash against the asphalt.  

Mole stepped out into the open space and turned back to the buildings, where his enhanced vision surveyed the transgenics massed and ready.  "We have to defend our home against any invasion," he shouted.  "This is where we fulfill our destiny as soldiers, and fight for our freedom.  It's either us, or them."  He raised his rifle in the air, and the armed transgenics responded in kind, their war cry echoing off the buildings and into the night air.

 

Command Center

"Okay, Matt.  Thanks for going along with this.  As soon as I find Max" 

"You found her."  Logan whirled around to see Max standing behind him, arms crossed defiantly.  Her hair was messy, her face dirty, and a tiny rivulet of blood streamed from a long scratch on one cheek.  

"Matt, it's a go.  Wish us luck."  With that, Logan clicked the phone shut.  A look of concern crossed his face as he reached out to touch her face gently, grazing a darkening bruise.  "What happened to you?" 

She winced and shrugged off his hand.  "Nothing.  Just got into it with a couple sector cops and some Army guys.  What's up with Clemente?  I couldn't get to him."  

"Alec has an idea about how to stop this crowd.  He and Joshua are working on it right now.  I got in touch with Matt so he would let Clemente know what was going on."  

Max's expression didn't change.  "We gotta be in deep if you're listening to Alec," she remarked. 

"We are.  In deep.  Mole's got a whole damn army on the roof.  You picked a bad time to try to go it alone, Max." 

"Yeah, well, forgive me if I wasn't thinking straight.  My friends are in jail, Joshua's wanted for murder, and were about to be overrun by an angry mob.  How about we save the lecture for later, and you tell me what I need to know?" she snapped, staring hard at Logan.

 

Outside the Front Gates, Terminal City

"Everyone, listen up!"  One of the ringleaders stood on several large crates to rise above the gathering crowd.  A megaphone in his hand served to amplify his voice so all could hear him.  

"It's time we showed the cops, the military, and these freaks that we're not going to let a murderer go free!"  A roar of approval went up, and several men lifted their guns toward the sky in a show of support.  "Just remember, they're animals who won't hesitate to kill.  We go in fighting, and we take them out until we find the werewolf!"  

Inside the gates, Mole listened to the man ramble, and a look of pure disgust and fury crossed his face as he turned back to his own army.  "Listen to them," he said with a derisive laugh.  "We're going to tear them to shreds."  

He turned to several X5s and X6s standing nearby, waiting for his orders.  "Spread out and update the soldiers at the other perimeters.  We need to be armed and ready.  They're going to make their move soon."  

Suddenly a figure emerged from the shadows.  Joshua walked towards Mole and held out a hand towards the Xs already starting to move away, and they stopped, waiting.  "Mole, no.  We are not going to fight."  

Mole snorted.  "What are you talking about?  We have to fight, or we'll die here."

"No.  If you do this, they will kill us.  Not these people.  The police.  The government.  Our government.  We will be killers then."  

"It's kill or be killed, Joshua.  Now get out of my way."  

Mole shoved Joshua, but Joshua stood his ground.  His lips parted in a ferocious growl, and he grabbed the rifle that Mole started to lift.  "No, Mole.  I can't let you do this.   

Suddenly a transgenic appeared behind Joshua.  He looked to be the age range of the X5s, an attractive male with spiky black hair.  "Mole, you don't want to fight those pathetic humans.  Put down the gun and let's go have a beer."  The young man cocked his head slightly and made eye contact with Mole, holding his gaze as he sent telepathic thoughts between them.  

Mole just snorted a laugh and yanked his rifle violently out of Joshua's hands.  "Sorry, Trey, your hocus-pocus ain't gonna work on me.  Good old Manticore didn't ever tell you the only soldiers human enough to fall for your voodoo are the Xs?  Go peddle your wares somewhere else." 

Just then, a loud pop from the front gates made them all turn.  Some of the protestors had used heavy-duty wire cutters to cut their way through the fence, and a few were pushing through the hole.  One, a middle-aged man dressed in leather and denim, had a shotgun, and once inside, he raised the gun and cocked it loudly.  

Mole cocked his rifle in response, and after a moment, looked back up towards the roof at the assembled mass of transgenics.  They were still standing there, but hadn't assumed a defensive position with the intrusion.  Instead, most of them had backed off, their weapons lowered.  A few of them, apparently still loyal to Mole, were being held back by the others.  Max stood on the edge of the rooftop, hands on her hips, flanked by the PSYOPs transgenics.

Several long seconds ticked by, but no one moved.  Even the crowd outside seemed to be frozen, waiting to see what would happen.  Finally, Mole moved, turning angrily toward the man with the gun until they were faced off, standing only twenty feet apart.  

"You want me?" Mole asked.  Somehow a cigar was still clamped between his bared teeth.  "Let's see what you got, asshole."  

The man stood his ground, but his grim determination seemed to waver.  At that second, Mole's finger started to tighten on the trigger, and Joshua sprang toward him, knocking him off balance as the gun went off, the blast ricocheting off the walls of the buildings.  Mole started to get back on his feet, but Joshua tackled him again, knocking him out cold with a blow to the head.  

Joshua stumbled to his feet and looked around at the Xs still standing there, then looked toward the man who had entered Terminal City.  He still stood there, gun raised, and he now pointed it at Joshua, trembling in fear.   

"I'm not your enemy," Joshua told him.  "We are not your enemies."  

"That's him!" yelled the ringleader, still standing on the crates.  "Kill him!"  

"Nobody's killing anybody tonight." Trey stepped forward, towards the intruder.  At the same time, a few others, clearly PSYOPs, appeared from the shadows and moved toward the front gates, where the crowd was pressing forward.  

"I've always wanted a gun just like yours," Trey told the man calmly.  "May I have it as an early birthday present?"  His clear green eyes bore into the fearful ones of the man standing three feet away.  

A look of confusion crossed the older man's lined face.  He rubbed his stubbly chin thoughtfully, and then lowered his rifle.  "Sure, but will you do me a favor and kill that dogman?  He shouldn't be allowed to roam the streets.  I got a family to protect, you know."

"I know you're afraid, but Joshua won't hurt anyone.  He's not a threat to you.  He's actually a very nice person.  Joshua, say hi to this nice gentleman," Trey said, waving Joshua over to them.  

As that was happening, the other PSYOPs transgenics had moved to the front gates, where other rioters had been forcing their way in and banging and clamoring against the gates, cursing and shouting.  The crowd had been quieted somewhat by watching the standoff transpire, but as the man handed over his weapon, they began to yell angrily.  Those who had made it inside the gates raised their guns and started to move stealthily towards the group.  

Trey handed the rifle he'd been given to Joshua and walked towards the approaching mob.  He signaled with his eyes to the other PSYOPs transgenics, and it was clear that they were communicating thoughts to each other.  Trey looked back at three men with guns raised, and calmly said, "You should be scared to death of all these soldiers, men.  Turn around now and go home to your families.  Don't come back here."  He looked from one to the other and back again, and within a few seconds, the men lowered their guns, glanced at each other in confusion, then turned around and headed quickly back to the hole in the fence they'd entered through.  

Two female PSYOPs transgenics headed for the front gates, where one female rioter promptly spit into one of their faces.  The woman simply wiped her cheek and stared intently into the woman's eyes, until the woman averted her gaze to the ground, and stopped screaming obscenities.  All across the crowd, the transgenics worked their psychological magic, person by person.

Frustrated, the ringleader watched as the crowd gradually quieted and some people started to walk away.  "Guess I'll have to do it myself," he said, and reached inside his coat pocket, bringing out a handgun.  He raised both hands to steady the gun, and took aim.  

From her rooftop perch, Max caught sight of the man on the raised platform, but it was too late.  "Joshua!" she screamed. 

Joshua heard Max's cry and whirled around as the gun went off. His movement was just enough to save his life, as the bullet tore into his arm.  He let out a half-growl, half-shriek and fell.  Max looked back at Alec, who waved at her to go, and she grabbed a drainpipe on the edge of the building, shimmying down to the ground in record time.

She headed over to Joshua, kneeling beside him.  Checking the bullet wound, Max saw that the wound was serious but not life-threatening.  She glanced up then to see Clemente wading through the crowd, holding up a badge.  The rioters seemed completely subdued, and Max realized that the PSYOPs transgenics were finally getting through to them. "It's about time," she murmured to herself.

Max stood and looked at Clemente again as Logan and a medic team approached.  Clemente caught her eye as he flashed his badge and ordered the ringleader placed under arrest, and they nodded once at each other with grudging respect. 

 

Outside the Front Gates, Terminal City

"We just received the results of a DNA test we had performed on evidence from the Annie Fisher murder.  The test conclusively shows that the DNA does not match that of the canine transgenic formerly suspected of the crime."  Clemente held up a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding glare of the lights being pushed into his face by the TV news crews covering the makeshift press conference.

The ringleaders of the riot had been arrested, and some others charged with weapons violations.  Still others had been ordered to disperse, and now a quieter crowd had gathered to listen to Clemente outside the front gates of Terminal City.  The transgenics inside the gates were clearly visible, but the tension from earlier had dissipated, and now the two populations eyed each other uneasily as Clemente continued to speak.  

"Consequently, the police department is rescinding its APB of the canine transgenic.  His DNA has also been shown to be inconsistent with that found at the scene of several attacks on sector police earlier this year.  We are looking into reports that a second canine transgenic was responsible for those attacks, and has since been killed.

"A military police battalion is being stationed around Terminal City to dissuade any further civilian attacks.  The 11pm curfew is being reinstated across the city.  Anyone out after that time will be arrested.  I'm not taking questions now, but I will hold a more official press conference tomorrow to update the citizens of Seattle on this unfolding situation.  That's all."  Clemente was instantly surrounded by the uniformed police officers, who acted as a shield against the reporters shouting questions at him.  They waded through the crowd to the unmarked police car, and Clemente climbed in.  

Matt Sung smiled at him, tucking his cell phone back into his jacket pocket.  "Good work, Commander."  

"Tell me you have good news."  

"I've arranged the meeting."    

 

Panic Room, Terminal City  Saturday, November 6

Max and Logan sat edgily in front of the computer monitor in the panic room, and looked up as Matt Sung's and Ramon Clemente's faces appeared onscreen.  "Clemente," Max said warily. 

"Max," Clemente replied just as warily.  His gaze landed on Logan.  "Mr. Cale, I presume?"  

Logan gave a short nod but said nothing.  

"Amazing how you got all this set up for us from inside Terminal City.  You must have resourceful  and loyal  friends," Clemente remarked.

"I must," Logan said shortly. 

"So, Clemente, you have this DNA tested in Siberia, or what?" Max asked.  "Cause I gotta tell you, if not, you might want to have a talk with your people about job performance."

Clemente let out a mirthless laugh.  "Hard to find good help these days.  No harm, no foul  your boy's in the clear, right?  And now everyone knows it."

"Joshua," Max called, and Joshua came out from behind a door and approached slowly.  Clemente seemed taken aback, though he tried not to show it.  "Clemente, this is Joshua.  Joshua, Clemente."  

Joshua, his left arm in a sling, walked toward the computer and sat in the chair that Max pulled up for him, as Logan pushed back out of the way.  Clemente seemed to search the transgenic's face for sign of the ferocity he'd seen on the video clip.  "Joshua," Clemente said simply.  

He included Max again in his piercing gaze.  "I think you should know.  Acting on an anonymous tip phoned in last night, we tested the DNA of Ames White  maybe you know him  against what we found on Annie Fisher.  And what do you know?  A perfect match."

Max flicked a questioning smile at Logan, then a more reassuring one toward Joshua.  "So what now?"

Clemente smiled serenely.  "Now we look for him, although the man seems to have disappeared off everybody's radar screen.  Don't suppose you folks know where we might look?"

Max shrugged.  "Try the local dump.  That's where all the garbage is."

Clemente stifled a laugh, but his grim look quickly returned.  "I'm very grateful for your help with the situation last night.  I think it will go a long way toward convincing the right people that this thing has to end.  Sooner, rather than later."

Max cleared her throat.  "First things first.  I want my friends out of the slammer."  

Clemente nodded.  "That's an interesting story.  An Agent Martin of the NSA had gotten us some pretty hard evidence.  But somehow, the evidence has disappeared from our lock-up.  And when I called the NSA  well, surprise, surprise, they've never even heard of an Agent Martin.  In fact, the NSA has been officially in the doghouse since your buddy White testified before Congress.

"So, we've had no choice but to release your friends.  But I will warn you that there are people  above me and out of my control  who will be watching them, so I'd advise them to be very careful, if I were you."  

Logan cast a brief, mysterious smile at Matt, but said nothing.  Maxs gaze returned to Clemente and her mouth hardened.  "So, how are you planning to get us out of here?  What about the feds?  The Army?  They want us all dead or back in a cage."  

Clemente nodded.  "I can make the deal.  Smile, Max.  Things are looking up.  

END OF ACT IV

Panic Room/Logan's Quarters

Logan sat on the bunk in the panic room, one foot on the floor, the other leg stretched out on the mattress, twitching.  His face contorted in an expression of annoyance and desperation as he tried to massage the spasm away.  Finally it stopped, and he breathed a sigh of relief.  Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and before he could answer, the door opened and Max stepped into the room.  

"What's up?" he asked brusquely, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice. 

She hesitated, then shrugged.  "Nothin'.  Can't I just stop by?"  He didn't say anything, so she continued. "Things are quiet around here, for once.  And we haven't, you know, had any time for...for us, lately."  

Logan just looked at her for a few seconds.  "You noticed that too."  

Max nodded briefly, then walked past him and went over to Logan's worktable, picking up a screwdriver and turning it end over end, eager for something to occupy her hands.  "I've been thinking...now that it looks like our days here are numbered...I've spent all this time wanting to leave, and now...be careful what you wish for, right?"

"Yeah.  I know what you mean," Logan said softly.

Max looked over at him.  "Doesn't look like Clemente's gonna drag you off to jail, so far as I can tell, you don't have much to worry about.  Now that you're rollin' in the dough again, you can set yourself up nice and start doing your save-the-world dealio again."  

Logan laughed softly, and a little sadly, then looked over at her, and their gazes locked.  "Gonna need a cat burglar-type to do some legwork for me."  

"I don't know."  She looked away.  "Things are gonna be different now."  She turned away from him, hiding the look of uncertainty and sadness she couldn't contain.

Logan's face tightened and his skin paled as his calf muscle suddenly started twitching, but Max was still turned away and didn't notice.  "What would make you think that?" he asked through partly clenched teeth, grabbing his leg and massaging angrily.

She shrugged, and turned to face him as he yanked his hands away from his leg.  "Look at me, Logan," she said, pulling up her sleeve up to reveal the runes that were still clearly visible.  I'm a freak.  Except this time, everybody knows it.  I mean, Seattle isn't exactly the smartest place in the world for me to hang around."  

"Max..." He trailed off, unsure of how to continue.  "Your life is here.  You're not...you can't just run away when the going gets tough, now that we're together." 

Max walked over and sat down next to him, her hand settling on his knee.  He looked down nervously, not moving a muscle.  Their eyes met, and she leaned in to kiss him hungrily.  "Don't know about you, but I could use a little mirth right now.  You got any to spare?"  

She leaned back on one arm, raised her other hand to his cheek, and kissed him again, more intensely, but this time Logan pulled back.  "Actually, I, uh, just got a call from an informant, and I have some work to do here.  Some Eyes Only stuff.  You know, back to the grindstone," he said casually, swinging his leg over the side of the bunk and acting as though he were ready to stand up.  

Max sat looking at him for a second, her expression changing from surprise to hurt. "Thought maybe you'd wanna celebrate a little," she said softly.

"Max..." Logan started, but ended in a sigh when he couldn't think of anything else to say. 

"You know, I never did give you that massage I promised.  Is your back still"

"No."  Logan cut her off abruptly.  "I mean, it's fine now." 

Max continued to stare at him, then shook her head and stood up, forcing a smile.  "Hey, no big dealio.  Maybe you can pencil me in for next week.  Catch you later," she said, and headed for the door. 

 

Rooftop

Max stood on the roof of the Command building, looking out at the city with a forlorn expression etched onto her beautiful features.  

So it's finally ending.  I kinda figured we'd all end up dead  a coupla times thought we'd kill each other before the government could do it for us.  But maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel after all.

Who am I kidding?  Even if we do get out of here, my life isn't ever going to be the same. Just look at Logan and me.  Thought we had it all figured out...then I turn around and he's running for the exit.  Can't say I blame him...Ive never read a fairytale about a prince and a killing machine in a freakshow body.   

And the strange just keeps on coming...

 

Unidentified Office

The man sat again in the overstuffed desk chair, turned away from the desk, a phone receiver pressed to his ear.  "How could you have let that happen?  I thought I had impressed upon you how carefully we worked to set up that little mix-up last night." 

From the receiver came the same female voice.  "I couldn't do anything.  There wasn't enough time" 

"Well, now you're out of time.  Our bosses think the best plan of action now is to get those transgenics you told us about to stage a mutiny against 452.  So it's up to you to"

"I can't...I can't say too much on the inside, or I risk revealing my loyalty, and then I'm useless to you.  Anyway, I'm calling to tell you...the cop, Clemente, met with 452 today.  Rumor is they're trying to end the siege.  If that happens, the rebels won't have a chance to mutiny."  

"Okay," he said finally.  "Call tomorrow and I'll let you know what your assignment is."  The chair swung around to face the desk as the end of the conversation neared, and Agent Martin ran a hand through his hair and loosened the tie around his neck.    

"One more thing," the voice on the other end said.  "452 told me something interesting the other day.  It's about transgenic blood.  I think you may want to look into this..."  

Standing in a phone booth on the corner of two busy streets, the woman, dressed in a winter coat with the hood pulled up to shield her face, continued, "...I'll try to find out more, but if you have access to Manticore research...yes, sir, I understand.  I will."  

When the phone call was completed, the woman hung up, then picked up the receiver again and, slipping in a few more coins, dialed.  "It's me.  Yeah, the crisis is over.  Hope you're ready to celebrate in style, even if it is a couple days late...okay, I'll be over in a few."  Replacing the phone on the cradle, the woman stepped from the phone booth.  As she headed away from Terminal City, Ginger pushed back the hood of her coat and smiled to herself.  

END OF EPISODE 3.11

