"Restrained" (Part Two, fic), Dark Angel, Logan/Alec, Max
Title: Restrained, Part two (Part of my a/u Logan/Alec universe)
Fandom: Dark Angel
Pairing, Characters: Logan/Alec, Max
Rating: R
Summary: Before Logan and Alec are able to talk, things get much, much worst with the appearance of an old enemy.
A/N: I still don’t know where my bunnies are taking me, but I assure you, I’m kicking and screaming the entire way. Special thanks to quietdiscerning for being my Dark Angel Encyclopedia!
One shot. Two. Three and four. Sketchy accidentally spilt the fifth. They took their sixth and seventh, and would have continued save for the dwindling funds that refused them from further male bonding.
“I was talking with Max the other day,” Sketchy said with a slur, “And she told me to tell you…” He scrunched up his face in thought.
“Sketch my man,” Alec said, patting his shoulder fondly, “Don’t break anything trying to think. You get props for even remembering her name.”
“Nah man…” Sketchy’s attention became focused on the empty shot glass sitting on the counter in front of him. “It’s so tiny.”
“And empty,” Alec supplied, fanning an equally barren wallet between them. “Same as this. And you know what that means.”
Sketchy shrugged and shook his head.
“It means,” Alec continued, climbing from his barstool, “That it’s time to get your skinny ass home.”
“Not yet…” Sketchy jumped from his seat and teetered dangerously to the left. Alec grabbed his arm to steady him. “Okay uh, maybe it’s a good idea.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.” Alec said with a smirk.
He guided Sketchy through the thinning crowd at Ratty’s bar and into the back alley. When dealing with a drunk it was best to avoid the public eye, especially in new territory.
“Oh god, I think I’m gunna be sick,” Sketchy moaned.
Alec released his hold on the older man and let him stumble to a pair of garbage cans. The sound of wrenching followed.
While he found it disgusting, Alec couldn’t deny the relief he felt to be out drinking with someone rather than inside doing it alone. This friend thing wasn’t so bad.
“Sketch, man… you need to build up a better tolerance.”
“Hey, I remembered,” his intoxicated friend muttered from where he crouched, “What uh… you know, what…”
“Max.” Alec supplied helpfully. So much for remembering names.
“Right - Max,” Sketchy mumbled, pausing to dry heave. “She told me to tell you to call Logan. Or ball him. I’m not sure which.”
Alec sighed. Damn that girl for being so nosey. He had reasons for avoiding Cale, and they had nothing to do with her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Man it’s messy down here.”
Sketchy was still on his heels, whipping away remnants of puke from his face with the back of his right hand. Alec made a mental note to avoid touching him there. “Come on man, let’s get you home.”
He took a step toward his friend but hesitated when he sensed a presence behind him. He already knew it was too late before he even tried to react.
The familiar bite of a taser in his back sent Alec crashing to his knees. The pain was too excruciating to fight, and darkness rushed in from all angles.
- - -
Max, for once was actually on time for work.
She hoped to slip by Normal’s desk without him noticing, but the man had a knack for knowing the perfect time to show his face.
Just like clock work as she passed his station, Normal leapt up from behind a stack of unsigned papers - his attention immediately falling on her. “Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. What happened? Run out of places to loiter before work?”
“Something like that,” Max replied coolly. He was about to reply but she held her hand up palm out to ward him off and proceeded to her locker.
Original Cindy was tugging on her biker gloves but paused to address her best friend and roommate. “What gives, boo? Why you in so early?”
Max scrunched up her nose in distaste, “What is it with you guys? Can’t a sister come in to work on time and have some peace?”
Original Cindy continued to stare.
Max sighed and twirled the combination on her locker, “If you must know, these damn brownouts have played havoc on my alarm clock. It’s a whole two hours early.”
“Damn girl, two hours? No wonder you’re late all the time.”
Max opened her locker and took out her gloves, “Don’t get used to it, I’m fixing my alarm when I get home.”
“Shit, not again…”
Max looked up at Original Cindy’s exclamation and thought of several more words that summed up her own surprise.
Sketchy limped up to the bench between their lockers and sat down; his face was bruised and cut. “Hey girls.”
“What the hell happened to you?” Max asked bluntly.
“Were you playing chicken with those Steel Heads again?”
“No,” Sketchy groaned, massaging his left shoulder, “I was out drinking with Alec at that new place - Ratty’s bar.”
“Where’s that?” Original Cindy inquired.
“Sector 9.”
“Figures,” She muttered.
Max turned back to her locker; not any news there. Sketchy and Alec went out a lot. She wanted to ask if he had mentioned her request to Alec, but it could wait.
“Let me guess,” Original Cindy continued in a patronizing voice, “You two pissed off some drunks and got in a bar fight.”
“It’s kinda hazy actually, but the last thing I remember is some suits showing up in the alley and mixing it up with Alec.”
Both Max and Original Cindy looked up, startled.
“I haven’t seen him since,” Sketchy said with a puzzled expression, “You don’t think Alec is in trouble do you?”
Max did her best to sound carefree, “He’s a professional boxer isn’t he? He’s probably skipping work to flirt with some hussy.”
“Totally,” Original Cindy added.
“How late were you out last night?” Max inquired.
Sketchy shrugged, “Probably twelve or someth’n.” He bent over to tie his shoe but paused midway, “Hey Max?”
“Yeah?” She asked.
“I told Alec what you told me to. He said he’d think about it.”
She tried to smile, but really, that was the least of her problems. “Thanks Sketch. You should wash those cuts before Normal sees them.”
Sketchy stood up and limped toward the bathroom.
Once he was gone, Max began to stuff her work clothes back into her locker.
“Sounds serious,” Her best friend said, “What are you going to do?”
“Get a hold of Logan and then find Alec.”
“So much for getting to work on time,” Her friend muttered under her breath, “let me know if I can help.”
Max nodded, “Sure thing.”
- - -
Logan was working in his office. He had one of the hard drives opened on the floor and a stick of ram ready in one hand. He glanced up when Max appeared in the doorway, and gave her a half smile.
“Hey,” He said, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
Max frowned, “It’s Alec.”
“What about him?” He asked. A whole slew of scenarios flew through his mind, every one of them involving Alec shacked up somewhere with some woman.
“Have you spoken to him since yesterday?”
“I haven’t talked to him in over a week.”
“I think he’s in trouble,” Max continued, “He was out with Sketchy last night and they were assaulted by men in suits.”
Logan quickly began to put his computer back together, “Are you sure?” He asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah, pretty sure.”
Logan swore under his breath. This was not happening. It couldn’t be. He hated to think that Ames White had Alec. The bastard nearly killed the young X-5 with an explosive implant at the base of his spine the first time it happened.
Finally he had the computer plugged in and switched on.
“What are you looking up?”
Logan logged onto the internet, “Sector records of large vehicles that passed through the checkpoints last night.”
“Check around midnight.” Max suggested.
“Right,” he muttered, tabbing through pages of registered and unregistered vehicles. There was a surprising amount of traffic for so late at night, “They were at Crash, right?”
“No, Rusty’s bar in Sector 9.”
Of course; Alec wouldn’t have wanted to risk bumping into Logan at Crash. The thought didn’t make Logan feel any better.
The list of traffic, however, narrowed more until only a handful of vehicles remained. He swore, much louder this time.
“What is it?” Max took a step forward, careful - he noticed, to stay a safe distance.
“There weren’t any military vehicles.”
“Maybe White learned his lesson in traveling incognito.”
Logan was growing more desperate every second he sat in front of his computer. He wanted to find Alec now. He took a deep breath to calm down, and scanned the list. “Okay, so there weren’t any military vehicles, but two vans passed through the Sector security between 11:45 and 1pm, both going in opposite directions. One went two sectors west and the other two sectors east.”
“It sounds like he’s trying to cover his ass with a little bait and distract.” Max said in a low voice. Logan knew better than to question her judgment when it came to military tactics. She had, after all, been raised and trained by the very same people they were trying to track. “So they went east and west. Were there any large vehicles that went north or south?”
“No,” Logan turned in his seat and watched her, “What do you think?”
“They never left Sector 9.”
“What? How do you figure?”
“It’s classic. You split your enemy’s forces in two and wait to leave the next night.”
Logan gripped the arm of his chair, “Which means we have a matter of hours before they make their move.”
Max turned to leave.
“Wait!” He called after. She stopped and turned toward him, “Where are you going?”
She gestured at his computer, “Contact your informants and have them watch the north and south sector points. I’m going to scout the area.”
“Right,” He lowered his gaze to the floor, “Hey Max?”
“Save your thanks until after we rescue little Romeo.”
The affection in her voice was unmistakable, and he half expected to see her smile, but when he looked up she had already left.
Logan quickly returned his attention to the computer. He begged god to keep Alec safe and alive until they could find him.
They had to find him. Logan was too stubborn to have their relationship end on such a sour note.
- - -
“What’s this?”
“Dinner,” he replied, “Do you like it, or what?”
Logan smiled gently, sitting at the table setting meant for him.
Alec took that as a sign so he sat beside him. He’d spent an hour cooking the pasta and vegetables at his own apartment, then a good ten minutes rushing it over on his bike before it could grow cold. It was meant as a surprise, and for all intents and purposes worked, but even now with a smile in place, Logan was looking at him like he grew an extra head.
“What?” He asked, feeling himself bristle with annoyance.
“It’s nothing,” Logan answered, grinning wider, “It looks great.”
He seemed to be waiting for Alec to do something, but Alec didn’t know what it was, so he just sat staring and waiting for the older man to make the first move.
Finally Logan did, spooning a good portion of the pasta onto his plate. After he finished, Alec did the same.
They ate in silence for a few minutes; Logan watching him over the top of his fork and Alec keeping his attention trained on the plate in front of him. It was an awkward silence to say the least.
“So…”
Logan glanced up, looking desperate for conversation.
“How was work today?’
His smile faltered and slowly became a frown, “Alec…”
Alec shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Yeah?”
“What is this?” He asked and gestured at the meal set out before him.
“It’s dinner.”
“You’ve never done this before, it’s not you.”
“Of course it’s not,” Alec said, his annoyance growing. Couldn’t Logan see he was trying? “Why don’t you eat before it gets cold?”
“Alec,” Logan said in his annoyingly calm voice, “You’ve been acting strange ever since the incident with that transgenic.”
Any appetite he may have experienced was squashed by the growing twisting knot of uncertainty growing in his stomach. He was so not ready for this conversation.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Cale,” Alec said dangerously low. He was trying so very hard to not ruin the evening any further. The use of Logan’s last name was meant to stand as a warning. Eyes Only was treading dangerous waters. “Drop it, okay?”
Awkward silence again. Alec could tell Logan was stewing - hardly able to keep from arguing. He hated it, because he knew from the very beginning of the evening that he would fuck it up sooner or later. How was it that dates on TV went without a hitch every time, but Logan refused to participate the one time Alec attempted to pull one off?
Alec slapped his fork down and stood up with enough force that his chair fell backward.
“Alec!” Logan looked at him with strained patience, “Please talk to me. I want to know what’s wrong. Maybe I can help!” It was obvious he was sensing Alec’s fight or flight kicking in. At any moment he’d either throw a punch or retreat, and Alec didn’t want to ruin the night any further. It was the least he could do.
He was out the door and marching down the hallway the next minute, oblivious to the words Logan shouted after him.
- - -
Everything swirled around him in a dizzying blur. Alec couldn’t even tell if he was lying down or on his feet.
There were faces in the mess - one familiar. It was impossible to grasp a single thought longer than a few seconds.
“He’s coming around.”
Alec closed his eyes and though it still felt like the world around him was spinning, he didn’t feel as nauseated. He struggled to remember how he’d fallen into such a predicament, but nothing came to mind.
“He’s sedated?” Familiar - and not in a pleasant way. Male and sounding almost bored.
“Yes sir, just enough to keep him disoriented.
“Wake up, 494.” The male voice ordered.
Alec did a quick inventory and was thankful to find his body completely in tact, as well as his clothing in place. The only thing he found unwanted were bindings to his ankles and wrists.
“I said wake up.” Someone, most likely the same person talking, grabbed Alec’s right hand and twisted it cruelly.
Alec hissed in pain and finally relented, opening his eyes to the bright light above him. He felt sick instantly as the world tilted and twisted to life.
“You’re supposed to be dead, 494.”
With effort, he was finally able to focus on the face hovering above him, and he regretted it immediately. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.” Alec growled, still aware of the pressure on his wrist.
“You will be,” Ames White replied. He released his hold on Alec and began to circle him; like a predator would its prey.
The light hanging above Alec was too bright, preventing him from casing the place for possible escape. The change in his enemy’s tactics was a bit discomforting.
“Do you know why you’re here, 494?” Ames asked.
“You like my company?” Alec tried following the man’s movement, but the world continued to spin with his effort, and he closed his eyes to fight it.
“I said wake up.” Ames growled and punched him in the jaw.
Alec looked up once more and glared.
“You hate me, with good reason.” Ames halted at Alec’s feet, masked in the shadows beyond the light. “So I’ll get to the point and shorten our time together. I want Eyes Only, and I want 452.”
“And how do you expect me to help?”
“You know 452 and she is on intimate terms with Eyes Only.”
Alec grimaced inwardly, if only they really knew. “Sorry I can’t help you there. I haven’t seen her.”
“Now why is it that I don’t believe you?” Ames asked in a low voice, “Maybe it’s because you helped her rescue that transgenic fish.”
Alec felt a sudden prick in the crook of his arm and turned to look. Someone - another blur of a person; was extracting a needle.
The edges of Alec’s vision began to darken and he struggled against his bindings to no effect. Whatever White’s people had him on was sapping his strength.
“Tell me where to find 452 and I’ll kill you quickly.”
“I’m having a hard time thinking, maybe you should lower that drug dose.”
“Or maybe,” Ames walked to his left and grabbed his hand. “I can encourage you to remember.” He twisted it hard and caused an audible snap in his wrist.
Alec cried out; tears of pain rolling down his cheeks. “Fuck you!”
“Tell me what I want to know or I’ll break more than just your wrist.”
“Just try it,” Alec growled in challenge, “I won’t tell you.”
Ames released his hand and traced a line up Alec’s arm with a finger. It stopped at the base of his neck and pressed down, with just enough pressure to cause discomfort. “I will get what I need from you. One way, or another.”
Alec glared up at him and tugged harder at his restraints.
“Increase his dosage,” White said to someone beyond his line of sight, “I don’t want to risk him escaping.”
Someone - most likely a doctor loomed at Alec’s right, and the glint of light was unmistakable against the tip of a needle.
Alec struggled more in an attempt to pull away. It didn’t do any good and the needle pricked his skin.
The world began to tilt dangerously and darkness threatened to overwhelm. Alec turned his head toward White and put all his hate into his words, “I am going to kill you.”
The last he heard before the pain in his wrist was washed away with his consciousness into black was the cold heartless laugh of Agent Ames White, and the chilling words - “My plans for you say otherwise.”
- - -
It was a near impossible task finding Ames White in Sector 9. Besides Rusty’s bar which was filled to capacity, and a few smaller businesses around it, that section of Seattle was abandoned. Empty burnt out husks of offices and storage facilities decorated nearly every block, and the homeless flocked around them like moths to a flame.
If White was here (and Max just knew he was) he was keeping Alec in one of the dozens of buildings. The only hope she had of locating them was questioning the homeless.
Max refused to give up. Her dislike for Alec had been waning the past few weeks, and even though she retained some of the hate she used to experience en mass, she would never wish him harm in the form of Ames White. That was reserved for her worst enemy, and somehow she figured he’d enjoy his own company too much.
Her second worry was for Logan - and not just because he was near a breaking point with the stress Alec inflicted on their relationship (deliberate or not). It was because Alec was in enemy hands, and Alec knew Eyes Only. While he would never voluntarily give up Logan’s identity, Agent White undoubtedly had persuasive ways of extracting that information. The longer Alec was in his hands, the sooner it would be when he cracked.
Max spotted a homeless man squatting in a pile of newspapers; not too far from the street. He was reading a tattered paperback novel and didn’t notice her approach.
“Hey she said, “Did you see anything out of the ordinary last night?”
The man glanced up and flashed a toothy smile. “Hello there pretty lady.”
Max rolled her eyes in disgust, “Did you or didn’t you?”
The man held a dirty scabbed hand out and rubbed his thumb and index finger together. It seemed he had done this sort of informing before; undoubtedly with the local law enforcement.
She pulled a ten from her back pant pocket and waved the bill in front of his face. The man made a grab for it but she held it out of reach, “Tell me what I want to know and you can go buy yourself something to eat. Don’t tell me and I kick your ass.”
“A black van drove by with some nancy pretty boys. They didn’t give me any god-damn money.”
Max handed him the ten dollars and pulled another bill from her pocket, “Tell me where they went and you’ll be able to afford some new digs.” She gestured at his bed of newspaper for emphasis.
“To the old soup factory on 8th,” He tried to take the money but she pulled it away last minute, “Hey, I told you everything I know.”
Max eyed him critically, “Are you sure?”
“Damn sure,” The man said angrily, “I followed them to give ‘em a piece of my mind but they had guns.”
Max handed him the money and went on her way. Once she was out of ears shot and sure he wasn’t following her, she called Logan on her cell phone.
He picked up on the first ring, “Have you found him yet?”
Max glanced at her watch. It was already a quarter to five. “Yeah, I think I may have. I’m investigating a lead, so don’t call me - I’ll call you.”
“Right.” He sounded anxious and she didn’t blame him; she hated sitting around without taking action. “Be careful.”
“When aren’t I?” She hung up, pocked the phone and headed toward the old soup factory.
- - -
Logan literally felt sick to his stomach from worry. He hadn’t been able to eat anything since receiving word of Alec’s capture, and the breakfast he ate before then was protesting.
He spent hours alternating between unsuccessfully searching the web for information and lifting weights. The exercise did help relieve some of the stress he was building, but it wasn’t a cure. The only way he’d feel better was seeing Alec walk through his front door.
Logan picked up the phone only to slam it back down. No that wasn’t any good. She told him not to call, and he didn’t want to fuck things up.
Instead he paced more - all over his apartment, from one end to the other; glancing from one painting to the next. Alec helped him buy them back after he’d sold them the first time to finance his exoskeleton. They’d been unable to find all of them, but Alec’s secret love for art led them to several dealers who had reasonably priced and very lovely paintings that quickly filled the gaps.
In fact, the young X-5 unintentionally and quite invasively made Logan’s apartment his second home; in his own eclectic way. Not having him around left a painful hole in Logan’s life.
Logan wanted to know what was on Alec’s mind - what was behind him staying away for over a week. And that meant no one was going to get in his way until he found out - most especially Ames White.
He knew years ago that taking the Eyes Only job would have its shares of troubles, but those were nothing when he compared them to the two short years he knew Max.
Logan found himself standing in his office again - staring at the cordless phone. He had to do something, but what?
He sat down in the chair and scrubbed his hands through his hair. It really was up to Max. It always was. All he could do was wait and pray.
“Max, please bring him back.”
- - -
The old Campbell soup factory loomed above her in the gathering twilight. The grounds beyond its barbed fences were unnaturally silent, and bare of anything but a lone black van. It stood abandoned beside the main doors.
Max watched the layout, ever aware it could be a trap for her. However, nothing moved nor made a sound, and after waiting an extra minute she made her move. Her genetic upbringing made it a simple task to leap the high fences and she landed expertly on her feet; quickly ducking into the shadows.
Still, no sound or movement disturbed the calm that settled over the factory. If Ames White was here, he was doing a damn fine job of hiding the fact.
Max stealthily approached the van and peered through the back windows. A black cloth bag lay on the floor amongst discarded rope.
She skirted the outside of the building, following the cracked and stained walls to the back. There she found a spiraling fire escape that stretched from ground to roof.
Max took them two at a time without making a sound. She didn’t like how easy this was. It made her nervous, and Max did not enjoy being nervous.
At the top of the stairs the door was easy to unlock and opened without a sound of protest.
She found herself standing on a catwalk overlooking an empty first floor. Empty save for one thing that sent a chill down her spine.
She descended the catwalks as quickly as her transgenic genes allowed, and approached a lone wooden chair; set at the very centre of the factory’s first floor.
Lying on its seat was a thin unmarked envelope. She glanced about once more to assure her safety, then ripped the seal and peered inside.
- - -
Logan glanced up from his computer when Max entered. He was worn from worry and anxious for news. He looked past her; his expression slowly darkening when he realized she was alone.
“You didn’t find him.” He said in a cracked voice. This wasn’t possible; Max always found what she was searching for. He looked to her face, willing her to reassure him in some way.
Max was hiding her feelings behind a carefully constructed mask of indifference, but it was enough to inform him that it wasn’t good news. She reached inside her jacket and withdrew a white envelope.
Logan’s gaze fell on it.
“It’s for you,” She said softly.
Logan’s stomach churned. It was foolish now to be wasting time, but he feared what he’d find inside. He stared at it for a moment and gathered his strength, then took the envelope.
With numb fingers he opened the broken seal and pulled a single photo from inside.
Logan stared at a crude picture taken of Alec. The X-5 was bound to an operating table, unconscious but otherwise unharmed save for a discolored left wrist. Logan couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. “Oh god.”
At the very bottom was a handwritten note:
Eyes Only. 452 is next.
Fandom: Dark Angel
Pairing, Characters: Logan/Alec, Max
Rating: R
Summary: Before Logan and Alec are able to talk, things get much, much worst with the appearance of an old enemy.
A/N: I still don’t know where my bunnies are taking me, but I assure you, I’m kicking and screaming the entire way. Special thanks to quietdiscerning for being my Dark Angel Encyclopedia!
One shot. Two. Three and four. Sketchy accidentally spilt the fifth. They took their sixth and seventh, and would have continued save for the dwindling funds that refused them from further male bonding.
“I was talking with Max the other day,” Sketchy said with a slur, “And she told me to tell you…” He scrunched up his face in thought.
“Sketch my man,” Alec said, patting his shoulder fondly, “Don’t break anything trying to think. You get props for even remembering her name.”
“Nah man…” Sketchy’s attention became focused on the empty shot glass sitting on the counter in front of him. “It’s so tiny.”
“And empty,” Alec supplied, fanning an equally barren wallet between them. “Same as this. And you know what that means.”
Sketchy shrugged and shook his head.
“It means,” Alec continued, climbing from his barstool, “That it’s time to get your skinny ass home.”
“Not yet…” Sketchy jumped from his seat and teetered dangerously to the left. Alec grabbed his arm to steady him. “Okay uh, maybe it’s a good idea.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.” Alec said with a smirk.
He guided Sketchy through the thinning crowd at Ratty’s bar and into the back alley. When dealing with a drunk it was best to avoid the public eye, especially in new territory.
“Oh god, I think I’m gunna be sick,” Sketchy moaned.
Alec released his hold on the older man and let him stumble to a pair of garbage cans. The sound of wrenching followed.
While he found it disgusting, Alec couldn’t deny the relief he felt to be out drinking with someone rather than inside doing it alone. This friend thing wasn’t so bad.
“Sketch, man… you need to build up a better tolerance.”
“Hey, I remembered,” his intoxicated friend muttered from where he crouched, “What uh… you know, what…”
“Max.” Alec supplied helpfully. So much for remembering names.
“Right - Max,” Sketchy mumbled, pausing to dry heave. “She told me to tell you to call Logan. Or ball him. I’m not sure which.”
Alec sighed. Damn that girl for being so nosey. He had reasons for avoiding Cale, and they had nothing to do with her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Man it’s messy down here.”
Sketchy was still on his heels, whipping away remnants of puke from his face with the back of his right hand. Alec made a mental note to avoid touching him there. “Come on man, let’s get you home.”
He took a step toward his friend but hesitated when he sensed a presence behind him. He already knew it was too late before he even tried to react.
The familiar bite of a taser in his back sent Alec crashing to his knees. The pain was too excruciating to fight, and darkness rushed in from all angles.
- - -
Max, for once was actually on time for work.
She hoped to slip by Normal’s desk without him noticing, but the man had a knack for knowing the perfect time to show his face.
Just like clock work as she passed his station, Normal leapt up from behind a stack of unsigned papers - his attention immediately falling on her. “Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. What happened? Run out of places to loiter before work?”
“Something like that,” Max replied coolly. He was about to reply but she held her hand up palm out to ward him off and proceeded to her locker.
Original Cindy was tugging on her biker gloves but paused to address her best friend and roommate. “What gives, boo? Why you in so early?”
Max scrunched up her nose in distaste, “What is it with you guys? Can’t a sister come in to work on time and have some peace?”
Original Cindy continued to stare.
Max sighed and twirled the combination on her locker, “If you must know, these damn brownouts have played havoc on my alarm clock. It’s a whole two hours early.”
“Damn girl, two hours? No wonder you’re late all the time.”
Max opened her locker and took out her gloves, “Don’t get used to it, I’m fixing my alarm when I get home.”
“Shit, not again…”
Max looked up at Original Cindy’s exclamation and thought of several more words that summed up her own surprise.
Sketchy limped up to the bench between their lockers and sat down; his face was bruised and cut. “Hey girls.”
“What the hell happened to you?” Max asked bluntly.
“Were you playing chicken with those Steel Heads again?”
“No,” Sketchy groaned, massaging his left shoulder, “I was out drinking with Alec at that new place - Ratty’s bar.”
“Where’s that?” Original Cindy inquired.
“Sector 9.”
“Figures,” She muttered.
Max turned back to her locker; not any news there. Sketchy and Alec went out a lot. She wanted to ask if he had mentioned her request to Alec, but it could wait.
“Let me guess,” Original Cindy continued in a patronizing voice, “You two pissed off some drunks and got in a bar fight.”
“It’s kinda hazy actually, but the last thing I remember is some suits showing up in the alley and mixing it up with Alec.”
Both Max and Original Cindy looked up, startled.
“I haven’t seen him since,” Sketchy said with a puzzled expression, “You don’t think Alec is in trouble do you?”
Max did her best to sound carefree, “He’s a professional boxer isn’t he? He’s probably skipping work to flirt with some hussy.”
“Totally,” Original Cindy added.
“How late were you out last night?” Max inquired.
Sketchy shrugged, “Probably twelve or someth’n.” He bent over to tie his shoe but paused midway, “Hey Max?”
“Yeah?” She asked.
“I told Alec what you told me to. He said he’d think about it.”
She tried to smile, but really, that was the least of her problems. “Thanks Sketch. You should wash those cuts before Normal sees them.”
Sketchy stood up and limped toward the bathroom.
Once he was gone, Max began to stuff her work clothes back into her locker.
“Sounds serious,” Her best friend said, “What are you going to do?”
“Get a hold of Logan and then find Alec.”
“So much for getting to work on time,” Her friend muttered under her breath, “let me know if I can help.”
Max nodded, “Sure thing.”
- - -
Logan was working in his office. He had one of the hard drives opened on the floor and a stick of ram ready in one hand. He glanced up when Max appeared in the doorway, and gave her a half smile.
“Hey,” He said, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
Max frowned, “It’s Alec.”
“What about him?” He asked. A whole slew of scenarios flew through his mind, every one of them involving Alec shacked up somewhere with some woman.
“Have you spoken to him since yesterday?”
“I haven’t talked to him in over a week.”
“I think he’s in trouble,” Max continued, “He was out with Sketchy last night and they were assaulted by men in suits.”
Logan quickly began to put his computer back together, “Are you sure?” He asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah, pretty sure.”
Logan swore under his breath. This was not happening. It couldn’t be. He hated to think that Ames White had Alec. The bastard nearly killed the young X-5 with an explosive implant at the base of his spine the first time it happened.
Finally he had the computer plugged in and switched on.
“What are you looking up?”
Logan logged onto the internet, “Sector records of large vehicles that passed through the checkpoints last night.”
“Check around midnight.” Max suggested.
“Right,” he muttered, tabbing through pages of registered and unregistered vehicles. There was a surprising amount of traffic for so late at night, “They were at Crash, right?”
“No, Rusty’s bar in Sector 9.”
Of course; Alec wouldn’t have wanted to risk bumping into Logan at Crash. The thought didn’t make Logan feel any better.
The list of traffic, however, narrowed more until only a handful of vehicles remained. He swore, much louder this time.
“What is it?” Max took a step forward, careful - he noticed, to stay a safe distance.
“There weren’t any military vehicles.”
“Maybe White learned his lesson in traveling incognito.”
Logan was growing more desperate every second he sat in front of his computer. He wanted to find Alec now. He took a deep breath to calm down, and scanned the list. “Okay, so there weren’t any military vehicles, but two vans passed through the Sector security between 11:45 and 1pm, both going in opposite directions. One went two sectors west and the other two sectors east.”
“It sounds like he’s trying to cover his ass with a little bait and distract.” Max said in a low voice. Logan knew better than to question her judgment when it came to military tactics. She had, after all, been raised and trained by the very same people they were trying to track. “So they went east and west. Were there any large vehicles that went north or south?”
“No,” Logan turned in his seat and watched her, “What do you think?”
“They never left Sector 9.”
“What? How do you figure?”
“It’s classic. You split your enemy’s forces in two and wait to leave the next night.”
Logan gripped the arm of his chair, “Which means we have a matter of hours before they make their move.”
Max turned to leave.
“Wait!” He called after. She stopped and turned toward him, “Where are you going?”
She gestured at his computer, “Contact your informants and have them watch the north and south sector points. I’m going to scout the area.”
“Right,” He lowered his gaze to the floor, “Hey Max?”
“Save your thanks until after we rescue little Romeo.”
The affection in her voice was unmistakable, and he half expected to see her smile, but when he looked up she had already left.
Logan quickly returned his attention to the computer. He begged god to keep Alec safe and alive until they could find him.
They had to find him. Logan was too stubborn to have their relationship end on such a sour note.
- - -
“What’s this?”
“Dinner,” he replied, “Do you like it, or what?”
Logan smiled gently, sitting at the table setting meant for him.
Alec took that as a sign so he sat beside him. He’d spent an hour cooking the pasta and vegetables at his own apartment, then a good ten minutes rushing it over on his bike before it could grow cold. It was meant as a surprise, and for all intents and purposes worked, but even now with a smile in place, Logan was looking at him like he grew an extra head.
“What?” He asked, feeling himself bristle with annoyance.
“It’s nothing,” Logan answered, grinning wider, “It looks great.”
He seemed to be waiting for Alec to do something, but Alec didn’t know what it was, so he just sat staring and waiting for the older man to make the first move.
Finally Logan did, spooning a good portion of the pasta onto his plate. After he finished, Alec did the same.
They ate in silence for a few minutes; Logan watching him over the top of his fork and Alec keeping his attention trained on the plate in front of him. It was an awkward silence to say the least.
“So…”
Logan glanced up, looking desperate for conversation.
“How was work today?’
His smile faltered and slowly became a frown, “Alec…”
Alec shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Yeah?”
“What is this?” He asked and gestured at the meal set out before him.
“It’s dinner.”
“You’ve never done this before, it’s not you.”
“Of course it’s not,” Alec said, his annoyance growing. Couldn’t Logan see he was trying? “Why don’t you eat before it gets cold?”
“Alec,” Logan said in his annoyingly calm voice, “You’ve been acting strange ever since the incident with that transgenic.”
Any appetite he may have experienced was squashed by the growing twisting knot of uncertainty growing in his stomach. He was so not ready for this conversation.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Cale,” Alec said dangerously low. He was trying so very hard to not ruin the evening any further. The use of Logan’s last name was meant to stand as a warning. Eyes Only was treading dangerous waters. “Drop it, okay?”
Awkward silence again. Alec could tell Logan was stewing - hardly able to keep from arguing. He hated it, because he knew from the very beginning of the evening that he would fuck it up sooner or later. How was it that dates on TV went without a hitch every time, but Logan refused to participate the one time Alec attempted to pull one off?
Alec slapped his fork down and stood up with enough force that his chair fell backward.
“Alec!” Logan looked at him with strained patience, “Please talk to me. I want to know what’s wrong. Maybe I can help!” It was obvious he was sensing Alec’s fight or flight kicking in. At any moment he’d either throw a punch or retreat, and Alec didn’t want to ruin the night any further. It was the least he could do.
He was out the door and marching down the hallway the next minute, oblivious to the words Logan shouted after him.
- - -
Everything swirled around him in a dizzying blur. Alec couldn’t even tell if he was lying down or on his feet.
There were faces in the mess - one familiar. It was impossible to grasp a single thought longer than a few seconds.
“He’s coming around.”
Alec closed his eyes and though it still felt like the world around him was spinning, he didn’t feel as nauseated. He struggled to remember how he’d fallen into such a predicament, but nothing came to mind.
“He’s sedated?” Familiar - and not in a pleasant way. Male and sounding almost bored.
“Yes sir, just enough to keep him disoriented.
“Wake up, 494.” The male voice ordered.
Alec did a quick inventory and was thankful to find his body completely in tact, as well as his clothing in place. The only thing he found unwanted were bindings to his ankles and wrists.
“I said wake up.” Someone, most likely the same person talking, grabbed Alec’s right hand and twisted it cruelly.
Alec hissed in pain and finally relented, opening his eyes to the bright light above him. He felt sick instantly as the world tilted and twisted to life.
“You’re supposed to be dead, 494.”
With effort, he was finally able to focus on the face hovering above him, and he regretted it immediately. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.” Alec growled, still aware of the pressure on his wrist.
“You will be,” Ames White replied. He released his hold on Alec and began to circle him; like a predator would its prey.
The light hanging above Alec was too bright, preventing him from casing the place for possible escape. The change in his enemy’s tactics was a bit discomforting.
“Do you know why you’re here, 494?” Ames asked.
“You like my company?” Alec tried following the man’s movement, but the world continued to spin with his effort, and he closed his eyes to fight it.
“I said wake up.” Ames growled and punched him in the jaw.
Alec looked up once more and glared.
“You hate me, with good reason.” Ames halted at Alec’s feet, masked in the shadows beyond the light. “So I’ll get to the point and shorten our time together. I want Eyes Only, and I want 452.”
“And how do you expect me to help?”
“You know 452 and she is on intimate terms with Eyes Only.”
Alec grimaced inwardly, if only they really knew. “Sorry I can’t help you there. I haven’t seen her.”
“Now why is it that I don’t believe you?” Ames asked in a low voice, “Maybe it’s because you helped her rescue that transgenic fish.”
Alec felt a sudden prick in the crook of his arm and turned to look. Someone - another blur of a person; was extracting a needle.
The edges of Alec’s vision began to darken and he struggled against his bindings to no effect. Whatever White’s people had him on was sapping his strength.
“Tell me where to find 452 and I’ll kill you quickly.”
“I’m having a hard time thinking, maybe you should lower that drug dose.”
“Or maybe,” Ames walked to his left and grabbed his hand. “I can encourage you to remember.” He twisted it hard and caused an audible snap in his wrist.
Alec cried out; tears of pain rolling down his cheeks. “Fuck you!”
“Tell me what I want to know or I’ll break more than just your wrist.”
“Just try it,” Alec growled in challenge, “I won’t tell you.”
Ames released his hand and traced a line up Alec’s arm with a finger. It stopped at the base of his neck and pressed down, with just enough pressure to cause discomfort. “I will get what I need from you. One way, or another.”
Alec glared up at him and tugged harder at his restraints.
“Increase his dosage,” White said to someone beyond his line of sight, “I don’t want to risk him escaping.”
Someone - most likely a doctor loomed at Alec’s right, and the glint of light was unmistakable against the tip of a needle.
Alec struggled more in an attempt to pull away. It didn’t do any good and the needle pricked his skin.
The world began to tilt dangerously and darkness threatened to overwhelm. Alec turned his head toward White and put all his hate into his words, “I am going to kill you.”
The last he heard before the pain in his wrist was washed away with his consciousness into black was the cold heartless laugh of Agent Ames White, and the chilling words - “My plans for you say otherwise.”
- - -
It was a near impossible task finding Ames White in Sector 9. Besides Rusty’s bar which was filled to capacity, and a few smaller businesses around it, that section of Seattle was abandoned. Empty burnt out husks of offices and storage facilities decorated nearly every block, and the homeless flocked around them like moths to a flame.
If White was here (and Max just knew he was) he was keeping Alec in one of the dozens of buildings. The only hope she had of locating them was questioning the homeless.
Max refused to give up. Her dislike for Alec had been waning the past few weeks, and even though she retained some of the hate she used to experience en mass, she would never wish him harm in the form of Ames White. That was reserved for her worst enemy, and somehow she figured he’d enjoy his own company too much.
Her second worry was for Logan - and not just because he was near a breaking point with the stress Alec inflicted on their relationship (deliberate or not). It was because Alec was in enemy hands, and Alec knew Eyes Only. While he would never voluntarily give up Logan’s identity, Agent White undoubtedly had persuasive ways of extracting that information. The longer Alec was in his hands, the sooner it would be when he cracked.
Max spotted a homeless man squatting in a pile of newspapers; not too far from the street. He was reading a tattered paperback novel and didn’t notice her approach.
“Hey she said, “Did you see anything out of the ordinary last night?”
The man glanced up and flashed a toothy smile. “Hello there pretty lady.”
Max rolled her eyes in disgust, “Did you or didn’t you?”
The man held a dirty scabbed hand out and rubbed his thumb and index finger together. It seemed he had done this sort of informing before; undoubtedly with the local law enforcement.
She pulled a ten from her back pant pocket and waved the bill in front of his face. The man made a grab for it but she held it out of reach, “Tell me what I want to know and you can go buy yourself something to eat. Don’t tell me and I kick your ass.”
“A black van drove by with some nancy pretty boys. They didn’t give me any god-damn money.”
Max handed him the ten dollars and pulled another bill from her pocket, “Tell me where they went and you’ll be able to afford some new digs.” She gestured at his bed of newspaper for emphasis.
“To the old soup factory on 8th,” He tried to take the money but she pulled it away last minute, “Hey, I told you everything I know.”
Max eyed him critically, “Are you sure?”
“Damn sure,” The man said angrily, “I followed them to give ‘em a piece of my mind but they had guns.”
Max handed him the money and went on her way. Once she was out of ears shot and sure he wasn’t following her, she called Logan on her cell phone.
He picked up on the first ring, “Have you found him yet?”
Max glanced at her watch. It was already a quarter to five. “Yeah, I think I may have. I’m investigating a lead, so don’t call me - I’ll call you.”
“Right.” He sounded anxious and she didn’t blame him; she hated sitting around without taking action. “Be careful.”
“When aren’t I?” She hung up, pocked the phone and headed toward the old soup factory.
- - -
Logan literally felt sick to his stomach from worry. He hadn’t been able to eat anything since receiving word of Alec’s capture, and the breakfast he ate before then was protesting.
He spent hours alternating between unsuccessfully searching the web for information and lifting weights. The exercise did help relieve some of the stress he was building, but it wasn’t a cure. The only way he’d feel better was seeing Alec walk through his front door.
Logan picked up the phone only to slam it back down. No that wasn’t any good. She told him not to call, and he didn’t want to fuck things up.
Instead he paced more - all over his apartment, from one end to the other; glancing from one painting to the next. Alec helped him buy them back after he’d sold them the first time to finance his exoskeleton. They’d been unable to find all of them, but Alec’s secret love for art led them to several dealers who had reasonably priced and very lovely paintings that quickly filled the gaps.
In fact, the young X-5 unintentionally and quite invasively made Logan’s apartment his second home; in his own eclectic way. Not having him around left a painful hole in Logan’s life.
Logan wanted to know what was on Alec’s mind - what was behind him staying away for over a week. And that meant no one was going to get in his way until he found out - most especially Ames White.
He knew years ago that taking the Eyes Only job would have its shares of troubles, but those were nothing when he compared them to the two short years he knew Max.
Logan found himself standing in his office again - staring at the cordless phone. He had to do something, but what?
He sat down in the chair and scrubbed his hands through his hair. It really was up to Max. It always was. All he could do was wait and pray.
“Max, please bring him back.”
- - -
The old Campbell soup factory loomed above her in the gathering twilight. The grounds beyond its barbed fences were unnaturally silent, and bare of anything but a lone black van. It stood abandoned beside the main doors.
Max watched the layout, ever aware it could be a trap for her. However, nothing moved nor made a sound, and after waiting an extra minute she made her move. Her genetic upbringing made it a simple task to leap the high fences and she landed expertly on her feet; quickly ducking into the shadows.
Still, no sound or movement disturbed the calm that settled over the factory. If Ames White was here, he was doing a damn fine job of hiding the fact.
Max stealthily approached the van and peered through the back windows. A black cloth bag lay on the floor amongst discarded rope.
She skirted the outside of the building, following the cracked and stained walls to the back. There she found a spiraling fire escape that stretched from ground to roof.
Max took them two at a time without making a sound. She didn’t like how easy this was. It made her nervous, and Max did not enjoy being nervous.
At the top of the stairs the door was easy to unlock and opened without a sound of protest.
She found herself standing on a catwalk overlooking an empty first floor. Empty save for one thing that sent a chill down her spine.
She descended the catwalks as quickly as her transgenic genes allowed, and approached a lone wooden chair; set at the very centre of the factory’s first floor.
Lying on its seat was a thin unmarked envelope. She glanced about once more to assure her safety, then ripped the seal and peered inside.
- - -
Logan glanced up from his computer when Max entered. He was worn from worry and anxious for news. He looked past her; his expression slowly darkening when he realized she was alone.
“You didn’t find him.” He said in a cracked voice. This wasn’t possible; Max always found what she was searching for. He looked to her face, willing her to reassure him in some way.
Max was hiding her feelings behind a carefully constructed mask of indifference, but it was enough to inform him that it wasn’t good news. She reached inside her jacket and withdrew a white envelope.
Logan’s gaze fell on it.
“It’s for you,” She said softly.
Logan’s stomach churned. It was foolish now to be wasting time, but he feared what he’d find inside. He stared at it for a moment and gathered his strength, then took the envelope.
With numb fingers he opened the broken seal and pulled a single photo from inside.
Logan stared at a crude picture taken of Alec. The X-5 was bound to an operating table, unconscious but otherwise unharmed save for a discolored left wrist. Logan couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. “Oh god.”
At the very bottom was a handwritten note:
Eyes Only. 452 is next.