Mobile Police
Headquarters, one block from Terminal City gates
“Hello, Detective
Sung.” Ramon Clemente looked up as the door opened and Matt Sung,
in khakis and a button-down shirt, entered the tiny, crowded trailer
that served as �temporary� headquarters for the Seattle police at
Terminal City.
The place was
a mess. Abandoned cups of curdled coffee sat perilously close to the
banks of surveillance monitors and communications equipment. Sung’s
elbow bumped a stack of papers as he edged his way toward Clemente,
sending it cascading onto the grimy floor.
“Afternoon, Commander,”
Sung returned, squatting to retrieve the papers, some of which stuck
to the muck on the floor. “By the way, sir, congratulations on the
new title.”
“Thanks, Detective.”
Clemente smiled wryly. “Can’t see what I’ve done to earn such a fancy
title, considering that I haven’t managed to catch a single transgenic
coming or going, but the Mayor seems to think this is my new full-time
job.”
“It has
been three months, sir.” Sung stood, putting the papers back on the
table.
“Don’t I know
it. And do me a favor. Skip the sir.” Clemente looked Sung
up and down. “Thought you were going to dress casual today. Mix with
the crowd out there.”
“I did,” Sung
objected, sounding offended.
Clemente shook
his head. “That’s not casual. This is casual,” he said, indicating
his own dark-blue jeans and leather jacket. “Isn’t it?”
�Well…” Sung
hesitated, looking at the monitors. The largest showed the main gate
of Terminal City, where a group of clean-cut, earnest-looking protesters
held a banner bearing the logo of the American Civil Liberties Union.
Nearby stood a larger group of teenagers in dirty military surplus
gear and other cast-off clothing, holding a smaller, hand-lettered
sign that read, “Freaks Rock!” A nervous-looking detachment of National
Guard troops kept a wary eye on everyone.
From one of the
monitors came a background roar, growing steadily louder. “What’s
that?” asked Sung, suddenly alert.
“Let’s see.” Clemente
leaned closer. “Well, well. Look at that. Hells Angels.” Down an empty
street rode at least thirty of them in formation, toward a police
barrier.
“Whose side are
they on?” Sung asked.
“They’re flying
the black, red, and white,” Clemente replied.
On the largest
monitor, a reporter approached the crowd at the gates and held out
the microphone. “Turn that up,” Clemente told Sung. “Let’s hear what
the pro-transgenic folks have to say.”
“…so you
believe that the so-called “Freaks” have the same rights as Americans?”
the reporter asked.
The slender,
red-haired young woman holding one side of the ACLU sign frowned.
“We shouldn’t use words like ‘freak’ or ‘trannie,’” she said stiffly.
“And the transgenics ARE Americans. Genetically enhanced Americans…”
Jam Pony
“What did I tell
you? What did I tell you?” Normal exulted, though no one appeared
to be listening � even Sketchy, who leaned on the dispatch desk, staring
at the television. “You got that right,” Normal addressed the screen
proudly. “Some of my best employees are genetically enhanced Americans.”
“Were, you mean,”
Sketchy said. “Hey, check that out! Hells Angels riding up to Terminal
City! Man, Alec would love one of those bikes.”
Idle messengers
began to crowd around the monitor, cheering. “Hey!” shouted Normal
above the din. “Don’t you go getting any ideas about joining the motorcade!
No matter which side you’re on! Jam Pony messengers stay above partisan
politics while on duty! Is that clear?”
The Infirmary,
Terminal City
Max paced back
and forth. “What time is it?” she asked Logan impatiently.
Logan, sitting
in an ancient rolling office chair, checked his watch. “Two o’clock,”
he said calmly.
“She’s late.”
“She’s a medic.
They’re always late,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Max swung around
and looked longingly at the door. “Look, maybe we should do this tomorrow,
okay? I’ve gotta get back to Command�”
Just then the
door opened and Aveta entered, carrying a blood pressure cuff, an
ear thermometer, and an IV bag of saline. “Sorry,” she said briskly.
“All set?”
Max shot an appealing
look at Logan. “Could you give us just a second?” Logan asked Aveta.
Aveta nodded,
understanding.
“Thanks,” Logan
told her. As the door closed, he turned to Max. “What’s wrong?”
“The usual,” Max
began. “I hate this. I feel like I’m a petri dish and you’re a lab
rat.”
Logan stood, moving
as close to Max as he could without touching her. “This is our fourth
time,” he said gently. “This could be the time we finally beat the
virus. You really want to wait till tomorrow for that? I don’t.”
“I can’t do this.
I can’t stand seeing you so sick.”
“I wasn’t even
that sick last time. No worse than a bad hangover.” He smiled.
She didn’t smile
back. “What if they’re wrong? What if this time you drop dead?”
“Max. Look around
us. We may not even have a tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but given
the givens, I’m kind of in a hurry.”
She looked up
at him for a moment, terror and uncertainty in her face. “Okay,” she
said finally. “Aveta?” she called softly. Aveta immediately opened
the door.
Logan waited.
After a moment, Max reached out and touched his hand, unwillingly.
They braced themselves.
And nothing happened.
“Are you�” Max
began.
“I’m not�” Logan
said at the same time.
They looked at
each other, hardly daring to breathe. Then Logan began to laugh. “Max!”
He held out his hand. His skin was unmarked.
Max jumped back.
“No! It’s too soon! Give it a few more minutes!”
“Max. We’ve wasted
enough time already.”
She stayed where
she was, and then without warning, rushed into Logan’s arms. Eyes
closed, he buried his face in her hair. A single tear ran down Max’s
cheek. They held each other until Aveta quietly cleared her throat.
“May I?” she asked,
and after a quick check, pronounced Logan’s vital signs completely
normal. “Congratulations,” she told them.
“That’s it?” Max
asked.
“That’s it. I’m
going back to my patient. Call me if you need anything, but my guess
is � you won’t.”
After she left
the room, Max began to speak, but Logan gently put a finger to her
lips. “I know. You really do need to go check in at Command. I’m giving
you one hour. Meet me in my quarters?”
“Yeah,” Max whispered.
Her voice shook. “One hour.” She turned to go.
“Hey.”
“What?”
Logan reached
out and wiped away the tear that still trailed down her cheek.
“Thanks,” she
whispered, eyes shining.
An Office in
Seattle
The Phalanx strode
into White�s office, led by Thula, a snarl on her lips. �Are we ready
to move?� she demanded.
White leaned back
in his chair and pressed his fingers together. �The gas is ready and
waiting. Now my plan is for you to��
�I�m not interested
in hearing your plan,� Thula sneered, cutting him off. �Your
plan left us all naked and ridiculed by that idiot detective. We�re
doing it my way this time.�
White�s eyes narrowed,
but he was silent for a moment, then replied calmly but firmly, �You
don�t know what you�re up against. I do. My father was good at what
he did, and so are his…creations.�
�We�re better.
If you just stand back and let us do it right, we�ll have those man-made
freaks dead by the end of the day.� Thula crossed her arms and stared
down the man in front of her.
�All
right,� White said. �But let�s get one thing clear: we can�t afford
any screw-ups this time, whoever makes the call. The Conclave has
made it clear that the New World Order is upon us.�
A
nasty smile appeared on Thula�s face. �And 452 will be the first one
we send to hell,� she promised him. �This is how it�s going to go
down…�
Lydecker�s Safe House, Seattle
A freight train barreled along a set
of tracks in the middle of downtown Seattle, roaring past a neighborhood
that had seen better days. The majority of the houses were crumbling
skeletons, but one stood intact, a dim light barely visible around
the boards covering its windows.
Krit, Syl, and Zane slept on cots
in a back bedroom. Jondy came into the room and nudged Zane, who sat
up and stretched, loosening his stiff muscles. The cot squeaked with
every move he made, and the noise attracted the attention of the others,
who also began to stir.
�Morning,� Zane mumbled. He got up
and walked out of the room, the wooden floor of the house creaking
under his weight.
Lydecker was in another room, poring
over a map laid out on a three-legged table. The floor creaked and
Lydecker looked up to see Zane standing in the room, staring at him.
He stared right back at the young man.
�You got something you want to say,
soldier?� Lydecker challenged.
Zane clenched his jaw. A few seconds
passed as he wrestled with what to say. Finally, he spoke up. �No.�
�Good. Get the others,� he ordered.
�It�s time to start.�
Lydecker grabbed a few papers from
under the map and walked to a room where four young men in black fatigues
were sitting. They all came to attention when Lydecker entered.
�As you were,� Lydecker said as he
walked to the front of the room.
The soldiers took their seats.
Krit, Syl, and Jondy followed Zane
into the room and sat down in vacant chairs, staring at the other
soldiers. They remained facing forward, their attention focused on
Lydecker in the front of the room.
�Now that you�re all here, we can
address the current situation and get everyone up to speed,� Lydecker
began. The room was very quiet.
�First, there are two more of you
currently on assignment for me. They have infiltrated the National
Guard surrounding Terminal City. They report in periodically on the
situation there.
�I�m still in the process of tracking
down and recalling all my other X5s who were on deep cover missions
for Manticore. Rest assured, they will all return to me.�
Lydecker slipped his glasses on and
began flipping through the papers he had brought with him.
�As for what we�re up against, the
National Guard consists of…�
Syl slumped in her chair, stretching
her legs out in front of her. She rolled her eyes and crossed her
arms, letting out an audible sigh.
This drew a disapproving frown from
Lydecker.
�…So,� he went on, raising
his voice, �you will have no trouble handling these pitiful excuses
for soldiers who make up the National Guard force around Terminal
City. They are lazy, sloppy, and easily distracted. They have incompetent
leadership. All things we can use to our advantage.
�You, on the other hand, are the best
group of fighting soldiers the world has ever seen. Under my command,
you will see for yourselves that there are no limits.� He paused,
placed his hands behind his back, and walked over toward Syl and her
group. �Some of you questioned the training methods used in the past,�
he continued, looking directly at Syl. �It is that training
which will make success ours.
�Now, as if having the whole city
� practically the whole world � against us isn�t enough, we have a
new enemy. A formidable enemy. An enemy that wants each and every
one of you dead. An enemy which, given time, would achieve its ultimate
goal of world domination by its superior species.�
Lydecker paused to let that sink in.
He now had everyone�s full attention.
�This enemy, a group known as Familiars,
has a stake in what happens at Terminal City. They want you, the transgenics,
the only viable threat to them, gone. So, you can count on
them showing up sooner or later here in Seattle. In fact, I wouldn�t
be surprised if they are already here.
�I wanted the perfect soldier. Their
goal is a perfect human race. Only one will be left standing…and
I never lose.�
He put up a picture of Ames White
on the wall.
�Commit this face to memory, soldiers.
Ames White. He�s their point man, their go-to guy in the field. Consider
him enemy number one. He will not hesitate to kill you. I suggest
you take on that same mindset if you run into him.
�Some of you have not been in a structured
military environment for some time. This is exactly what has been
established here. I�m the CO. I expect your full cooperation. Your
duty is to carry out any and all missions. Your loyalty is to this
team.
�What we have going for us right now
is anonymity, which allows for surprise. No one knows who we are,
or that we�re here. They have no idea we are mobilizing a strike force.
When we strike, we will do so covertly. We will be quick and efficient.
And we must be ready to move at a moment�s notice. No mistakes. Understood?�
Lydecker�s four soldiers immediately
replied in the affirmative. �Yes, sir!�
Syl, Krit, Jondy, and Zane shared
a look, and nodded in agreement, appearing very unsure of their reply.
Lydecker let out a breath. �Very well.
Success depends on having a well-thought-out and carefully executed
plan. And that�s exactly what I want from you. Dismissed.�
Command Center, Terminal City
�Pay attention!� Alec�s head whipped
around from where his gaze had been locked on the television that
blared news coverage of the pro-transgenic rally. The Command Center
was quieter than normal, since almost everyone in the building was
transfixed by the unexpected show of support manifesting itself before
his or her eyes.
Max glared at him and waved a handful
of papers in his face. �I can�t do this by myself, Alec. None of that��
she waved her free hand at the television set, ��matters if White
gets in here and blasts us all to hell.�
Alec sighed and shook his head slowly,
a lazy smile creeping across his face. �I know what your problem is,�
he told her. �Sex. Namely, sex with Logan. No virus, and yet somehow,
you�re still not getting any.�
Max�s eyes narrowed threateningly,
and she looked about ready to punch him in the face. Her grip tightened
on the bundle of papers. �I�ll say this one more time. Logan and me
are none of your damn business.� She looked away from him, then caught
his gaze again. �Anyway, it�s not like we�ve had time. Aveta just
gave us the all-clear a few minutes ago.�
Alec�s grin widened. �So I guess that
means I better go have a birds-and-the-bees kinda talk with my man,
huh?�
�Shut up,� Max growled. �If you say
anything, and I mean anything, to Logan about this,
I�m gonna personally hand you over to White and Company. Now, could
you at least pretend you have an ounce of responsibility and help
me figure this out?� She sighed and looked down at the papers, which
seemed to be a layout of the sewers underneath Terminal City. �We
need to step up patrols here, and here. White�s goon isn�t gonna keep
his mouth shut any more than you can, so it�s probably only a matter
of time before they try something.�
�Aye, aye, sir. I�ll let Mole know
we�re gonna do double duty.�
Max finally set the papers down and
started to turn away.
�Hey,� Alec added, �you seen Original
Cindy around anywhere? Ginger was asking about her a few minutes ago.�
He wiggled his eyebrows leeringly.
�She�s in the infirmary…again,�
Max told him wearily. �The rash is back, doin� double duty this time.
We gotta get her out of here.�
�Yeah, maybe,� Alec agreed. �It�d
be nice if we had someone out there in the crowd, working for us.�
He paused for a minute. �Which reminds me, I�ve been meaning to ask
you � you got any idea where the others are? The ones that escaped
with you back in �09? You�d think they�d have shown up to pitch in
with the rest of us.�
A shadow of pain crossed Max�s face.
�I hope they�re far away from all this,� she said softly. Suddenly
she seemed far away, but just as quickly she snapped back into commander
mode, seemingly embarrassed. �Get those patrols stepped up. I�m going…on
a break, so make sure things are covered here. If you can keep your
eyes off that garbage and your lips off a bottle of beer,� she added,
then whirled around and walked away.
Alec watched her go, grinning. �Booty
call,� he sang to himself.
Living Quarters, Terminal City
Max stood nervously outside the closed
door to Logan�s room. Her hand went toward the doorknob, but didn�t
quite make it. She shifted her feet, looking up and down the hallway
to make sure no one else was around. Her hand went again to the knob,
and she jumped, startled, as it suddenly turned and the door opened.
Logan was standing there, a crooked
smile on his face and a book in one hand. �You comin� in or not?�
he teased, a questioning look on his face.
Max managed a tense laugh. �Yeah,
sorry, just…�
�You don�t have to explain anything,
Max,� Logan interrupted in a gentle voice. �It�s scary for me, too.�
They stared at each other for a moment,
then Logan tossed the book onto the floor and reached out his bare
hand to her. She looked at it, then back up to him, worry evident
in her gaze. �No excuses this time,� he said. �The quarantine�s been
lifted.� The corners of his mouth turned up.
�Are you sure? For all we know��
�Max…shut up,� Logan whispered,
glancing down to his outstretched hand. Max still hesitated, then
reached out her hand and placed it in his. Slowly, he drew her to
him and put a finger under her chin, turning it up to his waiting
lips. They both smiled as their lips met in a sweet reunion, and Logan
dropped her hand to bring his up to cup her cheek.
Finally, they broke apart, and Logan
shut the door and turned the rusty lock before leading her over to
his bedroll. They sat down, closer than they had been in months. Again,
Logan leaned toward her and kissed her tenderly.
Max pulled back gently. �Remember…what
I said to you about…� she looked down at her entwined hands, �about
not wanting to blow it on a quickie?�
Logan laughed. �How could I forget?�
�I…I can�t leave Command for very
long. It�s just…� Max struggled to find the words but nothing came
out.
�I understand. We�ll wait,� Logan
replied. �I just want to…you know, actually touch you, now that
I can.� He took his glasses off and set them on an upturned cardboard
box that already held his wallet. Then he reached for her and gently
pulled her down so they were lying side-by-side on the narrow mat.
They lay there, staring into each
other�s eyes, enjoying the moment. This time it was Max who leaned
in for a hungry kiss. Then, without warning, she broke away roughly
from Logan�s touch and shook her head, a shiver running violently
through her. Breathing hard, she struggled out of his embrace and
sat up.
�What�s wrong?� he asked, a look of
frustration and a hint of annoyance crossing his face.
�I…I don�t know,� she admitted,
looking confused and turning away from Logan�s piercing gaze to hide
her discomfort.
He sat up and ran a hand over his
hair. �Max…we never…last year, when we…we didn�t get a chance
to talk. We just…it just happened. I mean, if we�re going to make
this work, it�s not gonna be a walk in the park.� He paused, waiting
for a response that didn�t come. �I guess this is where I ask you
if you want this to work.�
She turned to him, her expression
apologetic. �You know I do. But…I have an army to lead out there.
White could be on his way right now, and I�m…� her sentence trailed
off, unfinished.
Logan remained motionless, then ran
a frustrated hand through his hair and sighed heavily, thinking. �Okay…I�m
sorry, I�m being selfish. After all this time…listen, why don�t
we just slow down, okay? Go do what you need to do. Let�s meet back
here tonight after dinner, and maybe then we can relax a little.�
Max nodded slowly, then let out a
shaky laugh.�Guess I gotta kiss you goodbye again,� she said, then
turned to him and leaned over to kiss him softly on the lips.
Logan hadn�t moved, and still didn�t
when she pulled away reluctantly and stood up.�No more goodbyes after
tonight…right?� he asked, hesitantly.
She turned, her hand on the doorknob,
and gave him a sweet smile.�Right,� she replied with conviction, and
then she was gone.
The Infirmary, Terminal City
Original Cindy sat on a makeshift
exam table as Aveta carefully checked her arm. �The antihistamine
should be taking effect soon,� the medic said softly. �If the rash
doesn�t go away, come back tonight.�
�Anything you say, boo,� Original
Cindy replied, then they both looked up at a soft knock at the door.
Ginger was standing there, her eyes locked on Original Cindy.
�Just came by to see if you were okay,�
the tall, redheaded X5 said. �Hi, Aveta,� she added as an afterthought.
�Hi, Ginger.� Aveta looked back and
forth between the human and the transgenic and seemed to understand.
�Could you accompany the patient back to her bunk for me?� she asked
slyly.
�Sure thing,� Ginger replied.
They walked slowly through the hallways
and then outside, around a corner and down a barren street. �Don�t
you got some slop to be servin�?� Original Cindy asked as they headed
into her room.
�Nah, I�m in charge. It�s called delegating,�
Ginger answered with just as much spunk. �Got the evening off, as
a matter of fact.�
�You got somethin’ in mind?� Original
Cindy asked with a saucy grin, sitting down on the bedroll.
Ginger sat hesitantly next to her.
�How are you feeling?� she asked softly.
�Original Cindy�s feelin� fine. Don�t
worry your fine self �bout me.�
�I don�t want to see anything happen
to you ’cause you stayed in here too long.� Ginger raised her hand
to brush it against Original Cindy�s cheek.
�Hey, I ain�t going nowhere tonight,
you can count on that,� Original Cindy drawled, and they leaned toward
each other for a tentative kiss.
An Alleyway, Seattle
Ames White stepped out of the doorway
he�d been waiting in and approached the black assault vehicle that
had just sidled up to the curb. The window glided soundlessly downward
and White made eye contact with Thula, the leader of the Phalanx.
�The advance team is moving into place,� White told her in a low voice.
�I�m waiting for confirmation.�
Darkness was rapidly descending on
the city as White led the Phalanx down a garbage-strewn alley to a
beat-up metal dumpster. In contrast to White�s proper suit and tie,
the strike team was dressed all in black: combat boots, cargo pants,
and tank tops that showed off every defined muscle in their taut abdomens.
Just then, White�s cell phone rang
and he answered. �Yeah.� He listened for a moment, then said, �You
know what to do,� and hung up.
�Our brothers in the National Guard
just gave the final go-ahead. The team is moving in. That absurd rally�s
working in our favor � it�s the perfect cover. The police won�t have
any idea what�s going on until we�ve taken care of their little problem,�
White told the Phalanx.
�You aren�t taking care of
anything,� Thula corrected, checking the position of a 9mm handgun,
a large, sheathed knife, and a flashlight, all attached to her wide
belt. Then she slowly took a pair of black gloves dangling from a
pocket and slipped them on, pulling them tight. �Just remember that,
Ames, when I bring you 452�s head.�
White smiled in a way that left no
doubt as to what he thought of that, and hit the side of the dumpster.
�Your entry point is under this thing, but I wouldn�t head in until
you get the call; the rats are as big as cats down there.�
He started backing away, then added,
�Don�t underestimate these people. That would be a mistake.�
He held out the cell phone mockingly. �Call me as soon as it�s done,
so I can inform the Conclave that we can proceed.�
END
ACT I
>>
ACT
II
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