Dark Angel Reverse Bang: "Trannies In the Mist" Part 1
Title: "Trannies In the Mist"
Author: ladyarcherfan3
Parings/Characters: Alec, Max, Joshua, Mole, White
Rating/Warnings: R for language and gore
Word Count: 14,565
Summary: The morning after a violent thunderstorm, stories about meteor crash and an extra dose of transgenic hate conspire to ruin Alec’s day. And then the mist rolls in. It is far from ordinary and hides a true terror.
Notes: I have to send a big old shout out to staysthecourse, as it was her art that inspired this fic, and who dealt with my insecurities as an author writing her first reverse bang and was a fantastic sounding board. Also a massive thanks to dollarformyname who did a fantastic beta job. Seriously, she saved this fic with great constructive criticism, catching little errors, and general encouragement. All on a busy schedule and in a short time frame. I am still in awe.
Art by staysthecourse is Here
Part 1
It was around midnight, and Seattle was hunched under an impressive thunderstorm. Rain pelted down in sheets, the thunder an almost constant rumble that occasionally launched into a lightening-streaked chorus of cannon fire. Despite how the night life normally thrived in the city, everyone had opted to stay out of the storm, so Alec didn’t feel like he was missing on of much by staying in his apartment. He had been soaked once that night and wasn’t eager to repeat it.
The storm’s opening salvo had caught him coming back from Terminal City, and had almost washed him off his motorcycle. While he was spending more and more time in TC, Alec still had his apartment in Seattle proper, in order to maintain his cover. It also gave him a place away from the insanity of the crowds. Much like a housecat, he didn’t like company forced on him, and when he wanted company, he’d go find it. Besides, he hadn’t managed to shift his mini bar over to TC yet.
He sprawled on the sofa in dry, comfortable clothes and worked his way through a bottle of scotch - cheap stuff, just to take off the chill and give him something to do. The TV was off, as the storm ruined pretty much all the reception. Something in the air made his skin itch; not physically, but there was an edge that made his hair stand on end. Whether or not it was from the electrical storm, he couldn’t say; all he knew was that it made him restless, and he had to work early the next morning. With a short sigh, he refilled his glass again and swirled the amber liquor once before taking a sip.
There was a sudden, terrifying boom. The lamp flashed and flickered and went out, glass chimed as bottles rocked on the counter, a few books tumbled from their haphazard perches, and entire building shook.
“The hell?” Alec demanded as he sprang to his feet and peered out through the window. His skin felt like it was crawling with the tension in the air. He thought he smelled ozone.
But that had been no thunder clap, he quickly decided. That had been an explosion. And it was one that had been either very close or very big to have knocked things off shelves. He squinted to see through the rain streaked glass, but he saw nothing strange through the storm and the dark. A few police vehicles with lights flashing zipped down the street, but then disappeared without having turned on their sirens.
“Great,” he muttered as he turned away from the window. “Maybe it was an earthquake. Just what this city needs.” He stooped and picked up the books that had fallen from the shelf, pages fanned open and bent.
His breath caught for a moment as a familiar symbol trotted boldly across one page. Manticore. But the moment passed quickly as he realized it was a book on Greek mythology; Brain had a rather eccentric library, and Alec hadn’t bothered to get rid of it. He idly flipped through the pages, watching illustrations of monsters flutter by, their descriptive captions a blur of black text. Pegasus, minotaur, faun, centaur, chimera, manticore…
Lightning flashed and there was a sharp crack of thunder, disrupting his thoughts.
Alec frowned down at the book and the monster and then out the window again. There was nothing out there, and Max hadn’t called, frantic about some catastrophe that she would need help fixing. Maybe it had just been a really intense thunderclap. Consoling himself with that thought, he closed the book, tossed it back on the shelf and went back to his scotch.
The storm had blown itself out by dawn, but Alec was still on the couch as the sky turned grey. The bottle sat empty on the floor, and he was curled up in one corner, breath soft and even, eyes half lidded. But his gaze kept flickering from the window to the book shelf without conscious effort.
*
Jam Pony was buzzing with a higher than usual level energy Over the throbbing hum of excited and nervous chatter, Normal’s voice rose in something close to a screech; he’d obviously shouted himself nearly hoarse already. Alec winced as he strolled down the ramp towards his locker. The static charge across his skin had not let up when the storm broke, and the added energy of the bike messengers did nothing to soothe it.
He had just opened his locker when Sketchy skidded around the corner.
“Did you see that meteor crash last night?” he demanded before Alec could even attempt a word of greeting. His eyes were wide and bright with excitement and he was grinning like an idiot.
Alec flicked an eyebrow up and said slowly, “No, Sketch, I didn’t see the meteor crash last night, because it was dark and rainy.”
Sketchy waved that off. “Whatever, you can’t tell me you didn’t notice the big boom.”
“So that’s what it was from,” Alec said, mostly to himself.
“Yeah, it hit a little ways out of the city. And the reports that are coming in are all saying that there were the remains of some sort of high class underground facility in the crater. This is awesome!”
“Don’t you have enough conspiracy theory in your life already with your photo journalism stuff?”
Sketchy gave him a sidelong look, the general excitement of the meteor and the possibilities easing away as if he was looking at a much bigger, much more real, problem. Then he just grinned again and shook his head. “It’s not theory if it’s real! I just wish I could have gotten out there, or could still get out there. Can you imagine what I would get for a story like that?”
“More than you’d make here for the day. Why don’t you just ask Normal for the day, and pedal yourself out there,” Alec joked. “How many miles outside of town was it?”
Sketchy scrunched his face up in consideration and then asked, “Can I borrow your motorcycle?”
Normal’s voice carried over the hubbub. “Alec! Hot run to Sector Six!”
“So can I borrow your bike?” Sketchy called as Alec turned and headed for the front desk.
Alec just laughed, sharp and mocking, without bothering to turn around.
“Do you think Max would let me borrow hers?”
Alec just laughed harder and walked out the door.
*
He was on his way back when he noticed it. A breath of wind, cold and clammy, swept over him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He blinked against the intensity of it, eyes watering, and couldn’t suppress a shiver.
Squinting upward, he noticed that Seattle’s dreary sky was suddenly dimmer than usual. A high, wide bank of white mist was rolling over the city. Even as he watched, the Space Needle was wrapped up in pale wispy tendrils, the hungry white wall close behind. Another shiver ran down his spine.
“Alec!”
He turned to see Max pedaling furiously down the block towards him. He registered several things at once: her face was set and creased with more frustration and worry than usual, and the weather was cool, but not frigid, yet she was dressed in long sleeves, a turtle neck, long pants, and full gloves.
“Well, Max, what’s happening this time?” he asked as she slid to a stop next to him. “Mole start a fight? Joshua eat some paint? You need me to pretend to be your boyfriend… oh wait, we’ve done that one,” he finished with a snap.
“Shut up,” she growled. “Look at this.” She tugged down the tall collar on her shirt, and then ripped the glove off her other hand with her teeth. Black marks danced across her skin, creeping up close to her chin, across her fingers and down her wrists.
“Wow, nice collection. What’s it got to do with me?”
“They all showed up last night, and I showed them to Logan.”
“So?”
“He thinks they’re a warning.”
“About what?”
“He wasn’t sure.
Alec frowned, frustrated. “Great. So we should be worried, but no one knows about what. Not that we don’t have enough to worry about.” He bent suddenly to tie his shoe; mostly to piss off Max about his apparent apathy.
Before Max could respond, the distinctive whirling sound of a hover drone filled the air.
“Crap,” she muttered and ducked her head a little to let her hair hide her face, pulling up the collar of her shirt almost to her chin. Alec decided to stay where he was, fiddling with his shoe laces.
The hover drone didn’t leave. Instead, sirens began to blare, with automated orders to freeze. Seconds later, sirens from sector police vehicles twisted into the air, less than a block away.
Max gasped. “Alec, your barcode!”
He ignored her. “Shit, shit, shit,” he hissed under his breath as he twisted off his bike and reached for a bit of concrete sitting on the ground.
“Oh my God, Alec, how many times have I told you to cover that thing up?”
“Wouldn’t have made a difference,” he snapped back. Eyes focused on the hover drone, he hefted the rock and let it fly. It whistled through the air. With a sharp crack of breaking glass, the hover drone wobbled in its flight but did not stop, and the sirens wailed on. Before he could manage another shot, police cars spun around three different corners, tires screeching against the pavement.
“Damn it!” Alec shouted in frustration. He searched frantically for a hiding place and exit. Across the street there was an abandoned cannery. The building was large and would likely have old equipment and enough places to allow them to play some escape and evade. “There!” he shouted to Max and pointed. “In there!”
“They’ll just surround us!” she shouted back as they abandoned their bikes and blurred across the street.
“Not if we move fast enough and get through the building first!” he argued.
Wood and metal thumped and groaned as he jerked open a door and pushed Max inside. They raced through the building, dodging through rusting industrial equipment and all but ripping doors from their hinges in their haste. But it was too late. Alec snapped open the back door in time to see two police cruisers skid to a stop and several armed men spring out.
“Back!” he snarled at Max as a gunshot rang out. He flinched back but felt the bullet open a stripe on his left shoulder. Pain and blood blossomed down his arm.
They ran back to the center of the warehouse, taking cover.
Someone boomed through a bullhorn, “You are surrounded! Come out with your hands up, and you will not be harmed-”
“Yeah, right,” Alec snorted. He ripped a strip off the hem of his T-shirt and wrapped it around his arm to soak up the blood. It was just a graze, more annoying than dangerous.
“Resist,” the voice continued, “And we will use force.”
Silence fell.
“Great,” Max sighed, letting her head thump back against the dry wall. “Brilliant plan, genius.”
“I’ll think of another one,” he muttered.
“You have thirty minutes to exit peacefully, before we enter forcefully,” the bullhorn voice called.
Neither Alec nor Max responded.
“What did you mean, just now,” she said suddenly, “about covering up the barcode not mattering? That’s kinda a transgenic thing.”
He snorted. “So’s a basal body temperature of 101.8 degrees. That’s how they got Biggs. That drone had one of those body heat detectors on it; a bunch of them have it now. Honestly, haven’t you been paying attention to anything that’s been happening lately?”
“I-” she started but he held up a hand to stop her.
“I know, bigger things, you and Logan, and your strange body art. Just, don’t. We need to get out of this mess.”
Max’s phone rang. She flipped it open and said with evident relief, “Logan!”
Alec rolled his eyes. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered.
She shot him a sharp glance but didn’t speak. “Oh,” she said after a few moments, crestfallen. “Just be careful.” A faint smile flicked across her face before she shut the phone.
“Well?”
“Logan’s stuck outside the city. He went out to investigate the rumors about the secret facility wrecked in the meteor crash last night,” she said in a small voice. “Now he can’t get back in very fast because of the mist and the tightened security on the check points, thanks to us.”
“Yeah, totally our fault.” Alec snorted. “Do you have any idea of how to get out of here since the knight in shining armor can’t get us?”
She glowered at the nick name for Logan. “I’ve got nothing, unless we can sneak out through the air vents and onto the roof.”
“And then get spotted by hover drones again?”
Max shrugged. “I don’t know - that mist was getting pretty thick. We might have cover.” She pursed her lips. “That mist didn’t seem strange to you, did it? I mean, it moved in really fast, and didn’t really look like ordinary mist…”
“It’s Seattle, Max,” Alec muttered. “It gets foggy sometimes.” But his own gut instinct agreed with Max. He just couldn’t afford to worry about it at the moment. They had real problems with guns just outside and a ticking clock to beat. The mist could wait.
*
Across the city, White looked up with a scowl as the door to his office flew open. Otto barely managed to skid to a halt and look somewhat professional before he blurted out his news.
“Sir, the police have two transgenics contained in a warehouse in Sector Six. Video footage from hover drones has given us visual confirmation. It’s 452 and 494, sir.”
White sprang to his feet, eyes blazing. “Get my car, now. I want to be at that warehouse in ten minutes.”
“But sir-”
“Now, Otto!”
As the other man left the room as fast as he had entered it, White glanced back at the computer he had been bent over. There had been some ruckus with the senior council early that morning, due to a meteor crash outside the city. More than a few members were inclined to believe this was a sign of the beginning of the end of this age, an age that would bring about their rise to power.
White wasn’t sure himself, but at the moment, his part in the events was clearly shown to him. The transgenic threat, Sandeman’s pet, was trapped. This could be the chance to destroy her at last. Fate was obviously favoring him today.
Within minutes, he was speeding down the street, despite the decreased visibility created by the thick white mist.
*
“You have fifteen minutes!” an officer was bellowing into a bullhorn as White pulled up in front of the old warehouse.
Something of a crowd had gathered along the perimeter the sector police had set up. Members of the Seattle Police Department and even a few National Guard troops had joined the sector police. Reporters shuffled around and up to courious onlookers, eager to get footage and statements. Obviously there were a number of civilians hanging about. The news crews must have worked at the speed of light to get the footage and reports out on the air waves already. White, followed by Otto, pushed his way through the crowd and barriers, flashing their Federal IDs at anyone who questioned them
“Who’s in charge here?” White demanded to the sector police at large.
“That would be me,” a deep voice replied, just over his left shoulder. “Lieutenant Ramone Clemente, Seattle PD.”
White turned to face the man and flashed his ID. “Special Agent in Charge White, FBI.”
“What does the Bureau want here?” Clemente demanded shortly.
“We have a vested interest in the safety and security of all American citizens,” White sniped back.
“This is my jurisdiction, and I don’t need the Bureau here cluttering things up.”
White just snorted. “It doesn’t look like you need much help there.” He gestured to the milling crowd and the motley crew of soldiers. “And you need all this for two suspected transgenics? Who, according to the hover drone footage, appear to be unarmed.”
“The situation is being handled,” Clemente growled.
“We’ll see about that.” White turned and pulled out his cell phone.
But before he could hit a key to make the call, the mist that had been dimming the air and dulling the sky descended like a wall. And then the screams started.
Part 2
Author: ladyarcherfan3
Parings/Characters: Alec, Max, Joshua, Mole, White
Rating/Warnings: R for language and gore
Word Count: 14,565
Summary: The morning after a violent thunderstorm, stories about meteor crash and an extra dose of transgenic hate conspire to ruin Alec’s day. And then the mist rolls in. It is far from ordinary and hides a true terror.
Notes: I have to send a big old shout out to staysthecourse, as it was her art that inspired this fic, and who dealt with my insecurities as an author writing her first reverse bang and was a fantastic sounding board. Also a massive thanks to dollarformyname who did a fantastic beta job. Seriously, she saved this fic with great constructive criticism, catching little errors, and general encouragement. All on a busy schedule and in a short time frame. I am still in awe.
Art by staysthecourse is Here
Part 1
It was around midnight, and Seattle was hunched under an impressive thunderstorm. Rain pelted down in sheets, the thunder an almost constant rumble that occasionally launched into a lightening-streaked chorus of cannon fire. Despite how the night life normally thrived in the city, everyone had opted to stay out of the storm, so Alec didn’t feel like he was missing on of much by staying in his apartment. He had been soaked once that night and wasn’t eager to repeat it.
The storm’s opening salvo had caught him coming back from Terminal City, and had almost washed him off his motorcycle. While he was spending more and more time in TC, Alec still had his apartment in Seattle proper, in order to maintain his cover. It also gave him a place away from the insanity of the crowds. Much like a housecat, he didn’t like company forced on him, and when he wanted company, he’d go find it. Besides, he hadn’t managed to shift his mini bar over to TC yet.
He sprawled on the sofa in dry, comfortable clothes and worked his way through a bottle of scotch - cheap stuff, just to take off the chill and give him something to do. The TV was off, as the storm ruined pretty much all the reception. Something in the air made his skin itch; not physically, but there was an edge that made his hair stand on end. Whether or not it was from the electrical storm, he couldn’t say; all he knew was that it made him restless, and he had to work early the next morning. With a short sigh, he refilled his glass again and swirled the amber liquor once before taking a sip.
There was a sudden, terrifying boom. The lamp flashed and flickered and went out, glass chimed as bottles rocked on the counter, a few books tumbled from their haphazard perches, and entire building shook.
“The hell?” Alec demanded as he sprang to his feet and peered out through the window. His skin felt like it was crawling with the tension in the air. He thought he smelled ozone.
But that had been no thunder clap, he quickly decided. That had been an explosion. And it was one that had been either very close or very big to have knocked things off shelves. He squinted to see through the rain streaked glass, but he saw nothing strange through the storm and the dark. A few police vehicles with lights flashing zipped down the street, but then disappeared without having turned on their sirens.
“Great,” he muttered as he turned away from the window. “Maybe it was an earthquake. Just what this city needs.” He stooped and picked up the books that had fallen from the shelf, pages fanned open and bent.
His breath caught for a moment as a familiar symbol trotted boldly across one page. Manticore. But the moment passed quickly as he realized it was a book on Greek mythology; Brain had a rather eccentric library, and Alec hadn’t bothered to get rid of it. He idly flipped through the pages, watching illustrations of monsters flutter by, their descriptive captions a blur of black text. Pegasus, minotaur, faun, centaur, chimera, manticore…
Lightning flashed and there was a sharp crack of thunder, disrupting his thoughts.
Alec frowned down at the book and the monster and then out the window again. There was nothing out there, and Max hadn’t called, frantic about some catastrophe that she would need help fixing. Maybe it had just been a really intense thunderclap. Consoling himself with that thought, he closed the book, tossed it back on the shelf and went back to his scotch.
The storm had blown itself out by dawn, but Alec was still on the couch as the sky turned grey. The bottle sat empty on the floor, and he was curled up in one corner, breath soft and even, eyes half lidded. But his gaze kept flickering from the window to the book shelf without conscious effort.
*
Jam Pony was buzzing with a higher than usual level energy Over the throbbing hum of excited and nervous chatter, Normal’s voice rose in something close to a screech; he’d obviously shouted himself nearly hoarse already. Alec winced as he strolled down the ramp towards his locker. The static charge across his skin had not let up when the storm broke, and the added energy of the bike messengers did nothing to soothe it.
He had just opened his locker when Sketchy skidded around the corner.
“Did you see that meteor crash last night?” he demanded before Alec could even attempt a word of greeting. His eyes were wide and bright with excitement and he was grinning like an idiot.
Alec flicked an eyebrow up and said slowly, “No, Sketch, I didn’t see the meteor crash last night, because it was dark and rainy.”
Sketchy waved that off. “Whatever, you can’t tell me you didn’t notice the big boom.”
“So that’s what it was from,” Alec said, mostly to himself.
“Yeah, it hit a little ways out of the city. And the reports that are coming in are all saying that there were the remains of some sort of high class underground facility in the crater. This is awesome!”
“Don’t you have enough conspiracy theory in your life already with your photo journalism stuff?”
Sketchy gave him a sidelong look, the general excitement of the meteor and the possibilities easing away as if he was looking at a much bigger, much more real, problem. Then he just grinned again and shook his head. “It’s not theory if it’s real! I just wish I could have gotten out there, or could still get out there. Can you imagine what I would get for a story like that?”
“More than you’d make here for the day. Why don’t you just ask Normal for the day, and pedal yourself out there,” Alec joked. “How many miles outside of town was it?”
Sketchy scrunched his face up in consideration and then asked, “Can I borrow your motorcycle?”
Normal’s voice carried over the hubbub. “Alec! Hot run to Sector Six!”
“So can I borrow your bike?” Sketchy called as Alec turned and headed for the front desk.
Alec just laughed, sharp and mocking, without bothering to turn around.
“Do you think Max would let me borrow hers?”
Alec just laughed harder and walked out the door.
*
He was on his way back when he noticed it. A breath of wind, cold and clammy, swept over him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He blinked against the intensity of it, eyes watering, and couldn’t suppress a shiver.
Squinting upward, he noticed that Seattle’s dreary sky was suddenly dimmer than usual. A high, wide bank of white mist was rolling over the city. Even as he watched, the Space Needle was wrapped up in pale wispy tendrils, the hungry white wall close behind. Another shiver ran down his spine.
“Alec!”
He turned to see Max pedaling furiously down the block towards him. He registered several things at once: her face was set and creased with more frustration and worry than usual, and the weather was cool, but not frigid, yet she was dressed in long sleeves, a turtle neck, long pants, and full gloves.
“Well, Max, what’s happening this time?” he asked as she slid to a stop next to him. “Mole start a fight? Joshua eat some paint? You need me to pretend to be your boyfriend… oh wait, we’ve done that one,” he finished with a snap.
“Shut up,” she growled. “Look at this.” She tugged down the tall collar on her shirt, and then ripped the glove off her other hand with her teeth. Black marks danced across her skin, creeping up close to her chin, across her fingers and down her wrists.
“Wow, nice collection. What’s it got to do with me?”
“They all showed up last night, and I showed them to Logan.”
“So?”
“He thinks they’re a warning.”
“About what?”
“He wasn’t sure.
Alec frowned, frustrated. “Great. So we should be worried, but no one knows about what. Not that we don’t have enough to worry about.” He bent suddenly to tie his shoe; mostly to piss off Max about his apparent apathy.
Before Max could respond, the distinctive whirling sound of a hover drone filled the air.
“Crap,” she muttered and ducked her head a little to let her hair hide her face, pulling up the collar of her shirt almost to her chin. Alec decided to stay where he was, fiddling with his shoe laces.
The hover drone didn’t leave. Instead, sirens began to blare, with automated orders to freeze. Seconds later, sirens from sector police vehicles twisted into the air, less than a block away.
Max gasped. “Alec, your barcode!”
He ignored her. “Shit, shit, shit,” he hissed under his breath as he twisted off his bike and reached for a bit of concrete sitting on the ground.
“Oh my God, Alec, how many times have I told you to cover that thing up?”
“Wouldn’t have made a difference,” he snapped back. Eyes focused on the hover drone, he hefted the rock and let it fly. It whistled through the air. With a sharp crack of breaking glass, the hover drone wobbled in its flight but did not stop, and the sirens wailed on. Before he could manage another shot, police cars spun around three different corners, tires screeching against the pavement.
“Damn it!” Alec shouted in frustration. He searched frantically for a hiding place and exit. Across the street there was an abandoned cannery. The building was large and would likely have old equipment and enough places to allow them to play some escape and evade. “There!” he shouted to Max and pointed. “In there!”
“They’ll just surround us!” she shouted back as they abandoned their bikes and blurred across the street.
“Not if we move fast enough and get through the building first!” he argued.
Wood and metal thumped and groaned as he jerked open a door and pushed Max inside. They raced through the building, dodging through rusting industrial equipment and all but ripping doors from their hinges in their haste. But it was too late. Alec snapped open the back door in time to see two police cruisers skid to a stop and several armed men spring out.
“Back!” he snarled at Max as a gunshot rang out. He flinched back but felt the bullet open a stripe on his left shoulder. Pain and blood blossomed down his arm.
They ran back to the center of the warehouse, taking cover.
Someone boomed through a bullhorn, “You are surrounded! Come out with your hands up, and you will not be harmed-”
“Yeah, right,” Alec snorted. He ripped a strip off the hem of his T-shirt and wrapped it around his arm to soak up the blood. It was just a graze, more annoying than dangerous.
“Resist,” the voice continued, “And we will use force.”
Silence fell.
“Great,” Max sighed, letting her head thump back against the dry wall. “Brilliant plan, genius.”
“I’ll think of another one,” he muttered.
“You have thirty minutes to exit peacefully, before we enter forcefully,” the bullhorn voice called.
Neither Alec nor Max responded.
“What did you mean, just now,” she said suddenly, “about covering up the barcode not mattering? That’s kinda a transgenic thing.”
He snorted. “So’s a basal body temperature of 101.8 degrees. That’s how they got Biggs. That drone had one of those body heat detectors on it; a bunch of them have it now. Honestly, haven’t you been paying attention to anything that’s been happening lately?”
“I-” she started but he held up a hand to stop her.
“I know, bigger things, you and Logan, and your strange body art. Just, don’t. We need to get out of this mess.”
Max’s phone rang. She flipped it open and said with evident relief, “Logan!”
Alec rolled his eyes. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered.
She shot him a sharp glance but didn’t speak. “Oh,” she said after a few moments, crestfallen. “Just be careful.” A faint smile flicked across her face before she shut the phone.
“Well?”
“Logan’s stuck outside the city. He went out to investigate the rumors about the secret facility wrecked in the meteor crash last night,” she said in a small voice. “Now he can’t get back in very fast because of the mist and the tightened security on the check points, thanks to us.”
“Yeah, totally our fault.” Alec snorted. “Do you have any idea of how to get out of here since the knight in shining armor can’t get us?”
She glowered at the nick name for Logan. “I’ve got nothing, unless we can sneak out through the air vents and onto the roof.”
“And then get spotted by hover drones again?”
Max shrugged. “I don’t know - that mist was getting pretty thick. We might have cover.” She pursed her lips. “That mist didn’t seem strange to you, did it? I mean, it moved in really fast, and didn’t really look like ordinary mist…”
“It’s Seattle, Max,” Alec muttered. “It gets foggy sometimes.” But his own gut instinct agreed with Max. He just couldn’t afford to worry about it at the moment. They had real problems with guns just outside and a ticking clock to beat. The mist could wait.
*
Across the city, White looked up with a scowl as the door to his office flew open. Otto barely managed to skid to a halt and look somewhat professional before he blurted out his news.
“Sir, the police have two transgenics contained in a warehouse in Sector Six. Video footage from hover drones has given us visual confirmation. It’s 452 and 494, sir.”
White sprang to his feet, eyes blazing. “Get my car, now. I want to be at that warehouse in ten minutes.”
“But sir-”
“Now, Otto!”
As the other man left the room as fast as he had entered it, White glanced back at the computer he had been bent over. There had been some ruckus with the senior council early that morning, due to a meteor crash outside the city. More than a few members were inclined to believe this was a sign of the beginning of the end of this age, an age that would bring about their rise to power.
White wasn’t sure himself, but at the moment, his part in the events was clearly shown to him. The transgenic threat, Sandeman’s pet, was trapped. This could be the chance to destroy her at last. Fate was obviously favoring him today.
Within minutes, he was speeding down the street, despite the decreased visibility created by the thick white mist.
*
“You have fifteen minutes!” an officer was bellowing into a bullhorn as White pulled up in front of the old warehouse.
Something of a crowd had gathered along the perimeter the sector police had set up. Members of the Seattle Police Department and even a few National Guard troops had joined the sector police. Reporters shuffled around and up to courious onlookers, eager to get footage and statements. Obviously there were a number of civilians hanging about. The news crews must have worked at the speed of light to get the footage and reports out on the air waves already. White, followed by Otto, pushed his way through the crowd and barriers, flashing their Federal IDs at anyone who questioned them
“Who’s in charge here?” White demanded to the sector police at large.
“That would be me,” a deep voice replied, just over his left shoulder. “Lieutenant Ramone Clemente, Seattle PD.”
White turned to face the man and flashed his ID. “Special Agent in Charge White, FBI.”
“What does the Bureau want here?” Clemente demanded shortly.
“We have a vested interest in the safety and security of all American citizens,” White sniped back.
“This is my jurisdiction, and I don’t need the Bureau here cluttering things up.”
White just snorted. “It doesn’t look like you need much help there.” He gestured to the milling crowd and the motley crew of soldiers. “And you need all this for two suspected transgenics? Who, according to the hover drone footage, appear to be unarmed.”
“The situation is being handled,” Clemente growled.
“We’ll see about that.” White turned and pulled out his cell phone.
But before he could hit a key to make the call, the mist that had been dimming the air and dulling the sky descended like a wall. And then the screams started.
Part 2