A
street

Alec
stood frozen for a few seconds, then pulled
himself together and caught up to Logan.� “Whoa there!�
You wanna explain that a little more?” he
asked, hurrying to keep up as Logan strode quickly down the sidewalk.�

“Not
much to explain.� My immune system’s attacking Joshua’s stem cells�”
Logan stopped speaking briefly as they skirted a slow-moving young couple,
arms wrapped around each other, “�and unless I do something to stop
it, I’ll be back on wheels before the end of the year.”� He didn’t look
at Alec, just kept on walking.

“But
you’re gonna do something?”� When Logan didn’t
answer, Alec answered his own question.� “What am I saying?� Of course
you’re gonna do something.� I mean, with a
hot chick like Max in your life�” He stopped as Logan shot him a warning look from under the
brim of the cap.� “Okay, none of my business.� But this isn’t such a
big deal, right?� They can fix it?”

“Maybe,”
Logan said.� He glanced over at Alec again.�
�You going to the church now?�

�Well,
I�m heading that way�� Alec tried to keep the
reluctance out of his voice.

Logan gave him a sharp look anyway.� �Tell you
what.� I�ll walk you there.�

�You
don�t have��

�Let�s
go.�

They
walked to the church in silence.� Alec shuddered at the sight of the
iron fence that had appeared in his dream just a few hours before.�
Logan pushed the gate open and they went up to the side door of the
rectory.�

At
his knock a nun answered.� “Sorry, the food pantry isn’t open on Thursdays,”
she said loudly but kindly.

“Is
Father Destry all right?” asked Logan in an
undertone.

The
nun allowed herself to glance around, then said, “Yes, but today’s not
a good day for a pickup.� Too many police around this morning.”� She raised her voice.�
“Come back tomorrow.� You’ll see the line.”� She began to close the
door.

“Sorry,
ma’am,” Alec said politely. “Thank you.”� The two men left the churchyard,
surreptitiously scanning the street.

“Guess
we head back to Terminal City now,” Logan said, as if nothing out of
the ordinary had happened that afternoon.

“I
guess,” Alec agreed reluctantly, trying to keep out of his voice the
dread he felt at the thought of returning.

They
swung around the corner.� To their dismay, a police cruiser was parked
at the end of the street, next to a police barrier that was obviously
intended as a roadblock.� Alec scanned the street, then
locked in on a welcome sight: a Budweiser sign.� “In here, buddy,” he
directed, grabbing Logan’s arm and pushing him through the door into
the gloom of a run-down bar.� The bartender gave them an indifferent
look before turning his attention back to the wall-mounted television.

“Crash,
it isn’t,” Alec observed, looking around at the patrons, mostly older
men in worn flannel shirts.�

“That
may not be such a bad thing,” Logan replied as they slid into a booth.�
“Unfortunately, I’m flat broke.� Doesn’t look to me
like the barkeep will let us sit here without ordering.”�

“No
worries,” replied Alec jauntily, pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket.
When Logan raised his eyebrows in surprise, Alec grinned.
“Last of my winnings. I bet against you in
the basketball game.”� He went to the bar and ordered two beers.

��

Max stepped into the Last Stop Bar, breathing in deeply as she tried
to shrug off the stress of her day.� Somehow, in the middle of all that
was happening, the bar seemed like the one place she could feel comfortable.�
It could have been like any bar in town, if some of the patrons didn’t
look so�well�strange.

�Can I get a beer, please?� Max asked the bartender, leaning over
the bar as she pulled up a stool.� The bartender nodded and handed her
a bottle.� Max took it to a free table and sat down.

“You need to think, or you up for company?”

Max looked up to find Ginger standing next to the table.� “Sure,
sit down.”

Ginger pulled out the other chair and sat down.� She signaled to
the bartender for a beer.� “Hard day?”

Max nodded.

“Hey, I appreciate you shutting down that fight club.� I couldn’t
figure out where all of my carrots and cans of beans were going.”

�You’re welcome, but please, let’s talk about something else.�

�Where�s Logan?� I haven’t seen him all day.�

�I don’t know where he is…thought I might find him here.� He wasn’t
at the Command Center.�

Ginger nodded.� �I’m sure he’s around here somewhere…maybe he’s
off cooking up one of those delicacies of his.� I did notice a couple
of bottles of spices had liberated themselves from my cupboard.�

�So, you hear from Original Cindy lately?� Max asked, trying to
shift the conversation.

�Yeah, last night.� We’re trying to work something out this week.� Thanks for clearing
it for her to come in now and then.� I’m actually thinking I might…”

�Max! Max!�� A boy, maybe an X8, interrupted Ginger as he came in
shouting.

Max sighed, stood up and gestured for him to come closer.� �What�s
up?�

�You�re Max?�

�Up close and personal.�

�Croc sent me.� You have to come with me,� the boy explained, his
breathing heavy from running.

�What happened?�� Ginger stood up and asked.

Max turned to her.� �Sorry, I gotta bounce.� Catch you later?�

�Later, Max.�

�

A bar, Sector 5 � 5:00 PM

Alec
looked out the front window of the bar, and then signaled the bartender
for two more beers.� While the bartender’s back was turned, Alec shook
his head at Logan.� Putting some bills on the damp bar, he picked up
the two bottles and slid back into the booth.� Logan pushed his aside.�
His first beer was still more than half full.

“Still there?� It’s been an hour,” he said impatiently,
drumming his fingers on the side of his first bottle as he stared out
the window.

“Look,
what are you gonna do?� It’s not the worst
place to have to lay low for a while.� For once we’ve got all the beer
we want � and a working toilet, too.� Not so bad,
huh?” Alec asked.

“Knock
yourself out,” Logan told him irritably.

Alec
rolled his eyes in exasperation.� “If we’re stuck here all afternoon,
you’re not gonna be Mr. Type A Personality
the whole time, are you?� Oooh, gotta hurry back to the office and fake a few more Canadian
ID cards…”

“No,”
said Logan very quietly, rocking the beer bottle back
and forth on the table.� “But I’ve got a lot on my mind…and this isn’t
exactly where I’d choose to sit and work it out.”

Alec
put his hands up in the air.� “Okay, my fault.� Forgot about your situation there for a second.”� He took a
long drink of beer.� “So, this ordinary doctor really knows about Manticore
transfusions and all that top-secret scientific stuff?”

“Yes,
he does,” Logan said bitterly.� “This cure, from Joshua…it wasn’t
the first time.”�

“I
thought there was something weird about all this,” Alec responded.�
“You know, it’s sort of a medical miracle, and you and Max barely mention
it.� What happened the first time?”

“I
had a transfusion of Max’s blood…after surgery,” Logan took a sip
of his beer.� “Long story.� Anyway, the same
damned thing happened that time, too.� My immune system kicked in, and
before I knew it I couldn’t even stand up at my own kitchen counter.�
First it’s hard to walk, then you can’t stand, then
everything stops working.”� Logan leaned back against the booth, closing
his eyes as if he were exhausted.

Alec
frowned, confused.� “You’re losing me here, buddy.� You said they could
fix you up.”

Logan opened his eyes.� “If you don’t mind, I’d
much rather talk about what exactly you were doing this afternoon
instead of picking up supplies.”� He folded his arms and stared steadily
at Alec.

Alec
opened his mouth as if to object, then stopped.� He slid the beer bottle
back and forth on the table for a few moments, his expression struggling
between reluctance and eagerness.

“I’m
thinking about getting out of Terminal City for good,” he said finally.

Logan sat up, suddenly alert. “And going where,
exactly?”

Alec
shrugged.� “Who knows?� Anywhere.”� He smiled
bitterly.� “It’s not like I’ve got anyone counting on me to stick around.”

“It’s
dangerous out there,” Logan said quietly, nodding in the direction of
the front door.� “You could end up dead.”

Alec
shrugged again.� “So?� The world might actually be a better place.�
No more psycho twin brother.� No more killer viruses.� No more assassination
missions.”

“Or
even worse, in military prison,” Logan went on.

“I
don’t have to let them take me alive,” Alec said flippantly, then
added at Logan’s frown, “Okay, okay, bad joke.”

Logan picked up his beer and took another drink.�
“But you have a plan, right?� Somewhere to go?”

“A plan?� Nah.� I’ll make it up as I go,”
Alec responded.� “But could you do something for me?”

“What?”

“Tell
Max that I’ll, you know, miss her, but it’s just not working out for
me.� Not that she’ll be surprised.� Irresponsible
brother Alec, and all that.”

Logan watched thoughtfully as Alec finished his
beer.

“I’m
going to take advantage of the facilities. �I miss a good public restroom…”
Alec said as he stood up and headed for the back of the bar.

Logan sat for a moment, then
followed him.

The
bathroom was empty.� So was the back hallway.� Alec was nowhere to be
seen.� Logan went to the exit door at the end of the hall, paused for
a moment, and then pushed it open.� Alec was squatting next to the building,
back against the wall, looking through his open backpack.

Logan looked down the light from the street lamp
gleaming off a small pistol lying next to Alec’s bag.� He ran his hand
over his face and took a deep breath.

“You
weren’t going to…you weren’t serious back there, talking about things
being better if you weren’t around any more, were you?” Logan asked.

“No,
course not… it’s for, you know, what might come up out there,” he
replied defensively.

“Thought
you were making this up as you went along,” Logan finally said.

Alec
looked away.� “Yeah…something like that,”
he said.

After
a long moment, Logan cleared his throat and began to speak.�
“After I found out my first transfusion was failing, I decided I wasn’t
going to spend the rest of my life trapped in half a body,” he told
Alec calmly, almost casually. “So, one afternoon when I knew I’d be
alone, I got out my gun.”

Startled,
Alec looked up, his attention now focused on Logan.

“But
before I got around to it, Max showed up, terrified.� She’d seen an
ambulance in front of my building.� It was there for a neighbor, but
she didn’t know that.� I put the gun away.”

He
looked over at Alec.� “I used to think about that gun sometimes, when
I believed Max was dead.� But something about the look on her face that
day…it stopped me every time.” Logan’s eyes twinkled.

There
was a long pause.� Suddenly, Alec sighed deeply.� “Must have been one
hell of a surprise when she came back that night,” he said.

“Yeah,
and I could have missed it.� You don’t know how things are going to
turn out, Alec.� You never know.”

Alec saw it again, the way he had in the
dream, the Berrisford swimming pool.� And
this time, right after it, he saw the cemetery, gray, cold and windy
on that fall afternoon.

Abruptly,
Alec picked up the gun, stuffed it in the backpack, and walked toward
the front of the building.� Logan watched him.� Alec peered around the
corner, drew back, and shook his head.

“They’re
still out there.� Must be waiting for someone.”

“You
could slip by them,” Logan said calmly.� “Leave the backpack here, take
off the jacket.� ‘Even a small change in appearance creates significant
confusion,’ remember?”

Alec
shrugged.� “Later.� I feel like another beer right now.� You
up for it?”

“Yeah,”
Logan said.� “Yeah, sure.”�
He held the door open for Alec and they went back inside.

�

Streets, Terminal
City

The boy grabbed Max’s hand and pulled her out of the bar.� Outside,
he started running again, pulling her along behind him.� A moment later,
they reached one of the entrances to the sewers.

Croc, who had already arrived, turned around and stepped toward
them.� �Hey, Max!� You told me I should call you if we found something
unusual.�

�What’s going on?� Max asked, taking a step closer.

He stepped back, exposing a group of X6s, sitting with their backs
against the wall.� A couple of guards were standing around them, their
weapons pointing at the X6s.

Croc explained, �They were trying to leave through the sewers.�
They had weapons with them, same kind that were stolen from the supply
depot.�� He showed her the rifles the guards had taken from the teenagers.

�Good catch,� Max thanked Croc, then turned
to the X6s.

�So, what�s the deal?� she asked, her voice casual and non-threatening.�
“Where were you headed?”

One of them looked at her as if she�d asked something really stupid.

�Out of here, that’s for sure,� he answered, earning an elbow-jab
from his neighbor.

�You wanna get yourself lynched out there,
that’s your problem.� But where’d you get the idea it was okay to steal
our weapons?� Max continued asking.

“Isn’t it about time we stood up for ourselves, fought back against
the ordinaries?� We sit here and wait for them to come get us and we’re
dead,” the blonde-haired boy on the end stated.

Max shook her head.� “You don’t think I want to do that?� That I
don’t want to go out and make them accept us?� I do…but this isn’t
the way to do it.� What exactly did you plan to do? Six of you and a
few guns � that’s not going to cut it.”

All six of them stared back at her without any sign of fear or embarrassment.
From the corner of her eye, she realized that somebody had stepped closer
and had been following the exchange. When she turned around, she saw
Mole standing behind her.

Ignoring him, she continued. �What is it with you?� she asked.�
�Did you ever think about what you were trying to do?� Stealing weapons?�
Inciting more anti-transgenic demonstrations?� You threaten this whole
community with a stupid move like that.� You want to get us all killed?�
The tone of her voice had changed from friendly,�
albeit mildly annoyed, to very angry.

�Max, give it a rest,” Mole interrupted.

“I’m handling this,” Max hissed at the lizard.

“No, you’re not, Max.� I agree with them.� It’s time to take some
action.� Sitting around here isn’t getting us anywhere.� We should be
listening to people like this, not locking them up for having a good
tactical idea.”

Max voice was low but ferocious when she hissed, �You know what,
Mole? Since you know everything better than me, maybe you should be
in charge. For all I care, you can re-open the fight club, send off
those kids with a pat on the head, start a civil war�I�m outta
here. �

She turned away and headed out. Soon her slim frame disappeared
in the darkness.

Croc, who had been watching the scene, watched in disbelief as she
left.

“Good move, my friend,” he said to Mole.

Mole just stared at him, puffed on his cigar, and then turned to
the X6s.� “Get out of here…I’ll deal with you in the morning.”

The group got up and turned to leave.� Mole took a couple steps
forward and grabbed the arm of the leader.

“Not so fast.� Guns stay here.”� He collected the munitions and
then watched as the renegades disappeared into the night.

�

The bar, Seattle � 8:00 PM

The
workday had ended and the bar was full now, noisy and crowded.� Logan
and Alec were still in the booth, and there were quite a few empty bottles
on the table.�

“So
you, like, own the place?� Paid for and all?” Alec was saying when the
front door of the bar slammed open and four sector cops walked in.�
The bartender hit the mute button on the TV.� People near the front
of the bar stopped talking.

“Uh-oh,”
said Alec, who sat facing the door.

“What?”
asked Logan, starting to turn.

“Don’t!�
Sector cops.� Four of ‘em.� Keep your face this way.”

“This
is an ID check,” announced one of the cops.� “Everyone stay right where
you are.� This will only take a few minutes.”

“Don’t
suppose you’ve got one of those fake IDs on you, do you?” Alec asked.

“As
a matter of fact, I do,” said Logan.� “How’s your barcode?”

“Covered with makeup.� Lasers are hard to come by in you-know-where,”
Alec answered.

“What
are they doing now?” Logan asked.

“Getting
closer,” Alec replied.� Under the table, he reached for his backpack.�
Now the cops were at the booth directly in front of them.� Slowly Alec
slid his hand inside the backpack.

“Hey!”
someone shouted, and there was a loud crash as a table overturned, followed
by the sound of shattering glass.�

A
young man in an oversized jacket was making a run for the front door.�
Three of the cops at the next booth sprinted after him.� One tackled
the man just as he pulled the front door open.� They spilled out onto
the sidewalk, followed by the other cop, her gun drawn.� “Freeze!” she
shouted.

“Now,”
said Alec.� “Real slow.� Out the back.”� As the other patrons crowded around the door,
Alec and Logan quietly slipped down the back hallway, past the restrooms
and out into the alley.� Alec carefully edged up to the street in time
to see the cops pull several small bags of white powder from the man’s
jacket.

“Drug
dealer,” he told Logan quietly as the cops put the man in their patrol
car and drove to the end of the block, where the barricade was still
in place.

“Lucky
for us,” Logan said.�

“Yeah.� What do you say we call it a night?� It’s getting dark.� We’ll
just head in the other direction.”

Near
the end of the block, Logan stumbled and nearly lost his balance.� “Hey, man, you all right?” Alec asked anxiously.

“Maybe
not,” Logan said gravely.

“Are you�” Alec began, alarmed.

“Alec, I think I’m drunk.”

Alec
looked relieved.� “Time to get you back to Terminal City.� I’ll just drop you off at the sewer entrance
and�”

“Wait.”
Logan stopped as they reached the intersection,
pushing his glasses up on his nose.� “If I’m not mistaken, this street
goes straight into Sector 9, which means it should go right by my old
place.� Come on.”� He began to walk.

“No way.”

“White’s not around any more and I can take this opportunity to check on my stuff.”

“What
stuff?”

“You’ll
see when we get there.”

“How
are we going to get through the sector checkpoint?”

Logan put his hand on Alec’s shoulder, wobbling
a bit.� “Aren’t you the undercover missions
expert?� Figure something out.”

“I’m
agreeing to this.� Why am I agreeing to this?� I’m not drunk.�
Or at least not enough to forget that Max will kick my ass if you don’t
get back to Terminal City in one piece,” Alec muttered as he followed
Logan.

�

The bar, Seattle � 8:45 PM

The
bar had just quieted down when the four sector cops returned, two with
guns drawn.

“Thought
we forgot about ya, huh?� ID check.� Whip
‘em out,” announced a female cop, as two other
cops began to check identification.� “Pull your collar down and let
the officers see the back of your neck,” she added.

Her
partner approached the bar, a photograph in his hand.

The
bartender looked up in alarm.� “Hey, I didn’t know nothing about Denny
having that stuff in here�” he began, but the cop cut him off.

“Seen
this guy?”

“Hell,
yeah,” replied the bartender, eager to cooperate.� “He’s right over
there.”� He pointed at the booth where Logan and Alec had been sitting.�
Three women now occupied the booth.�

“Well,
he was,” insisted the bartender.� “He was here when you came
in�”

The
cop reached for his radio.�

�

Logan�s penthouse, Sector 9 � 10:00 PM

Logan
and Alec stepped out of the elevator and headed for the door to the
penthouse.� Logan stood there for a moment, then reached into his pocket
and pulled out the key.

“Looks
clear to me,” Alec said, his eyes scanning up and down the hallway.�
He stepped aside as Logan fumbled with the lock.� “Anytime now, buddy.
You gonna make it?” Alec asked, as Logan slumped against the wall.��
“I told you we should have saved the Pinot for Max, instead of drinking
it.”

Logan smiled.� “I’ll get her more, tomorrow,
and besides, if we didn’t drink it, we wouldn’t have had anything to
do while we waited for the sector cop to take a leak.� Besides, Max
never really appreciates the Pinot like we do…Pinot is our friend,”
he slurred.

Logan pushed the door open and then stepped into
the dark apartment.� Moonlight cast a glow over the living room as he
walked in a few steps, then stopped.

“Man,
they messed this place up,” Alec said, looking around the room.� “Or
is this your new style of decorating?” he snickered.

Logan stared at the destroyed couch, the tossed
bookshelves.� “Careful. I might send them to your place next.”

Alec
snorted.� “My place already looks like this.”

“Okay,
I’ll hit the computers, you look for the chair.� It should be in there,”
Logan said, waving his arm toward the back of the apartment.

As
Logan moved toward the computer room to take
a closer look, Alec headed into the exercise room to search for the
chair Logan had admitted he would soon need.

“Damn…did
they have to break the Playstation, too?” Logan called out.� “That was
a collector’s item!”� Not hearing an answer, he crawled under the desk
in search of the Parker pen his aunt and uncle had given him for graduation.

“Not
a bad ride at all,” Alec said, wheeling Logan’s chair into the computer
room.� He tipped back, popping a wheelie.

Logan sat up, hitting his head on the underside
of the desk.� “Whoops!”

Alec
continued to maneuver the chair around the room, popping a wheelie every
couple of feet.

“Showoff,”
Logan commented, as he crawled out from underneath
the desk, rubbing his head.

“What,
you never put on a few moves for the ladies at Crash?”� Alec pulled
his hands off the wheels, dropping forward again�

“Not
on wheels,” Logan retorted, then sighed.� “It’s not really my thing.”

“Have
you tried it?” Alec asked as he stood up.� He held his hand out, inviting
Logan to sit in the chair.

Logan looked at the black metal contraption for
a moment, then slowly sat down.� He pressed
his hands down on the wheels, lifting himself back further in the chair.�
He rolled the wheels back, while leaning backward.� He began to tip
too far and quickly leaned forward until the front wheels landed back
on the floor.

“Damn
it!” Logan exclaimed, laughing.

Alec
laughed.� “Nice try, but you’ll get better with practice, buddy.”

Logan stopped laughing.� “Yeah, lots of time
to practice.”

“Sorry,
man, I was just joking…I mean, there won’t be any need to practice…will
there?” Alec asked, suddenly serious.� “You’re gonna
get this fixed, right?”

�

A patrol car, Sector 9

The
cop was dozing, eyes half closed, when the radio crackled to life.

“Car
18, Car 18, we have a report of suspicious activity at Fogle Towers.� Repeat, Fogle Towers.� Resident of the 26th floor reports
disturbance in an empty apartment.”

“Right.� I’ll check it out.”� The cop sleepily started the car.

�

Logan’s penthouse, Sector 9

Logan looked up from the wheelchair.�
“No.� I don’t think so.”

Alec pulled over the computer chair and
sat down, facing Logan.� “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Unfortunately, the only doctor who might
be able to help is out of state.”

“Where?” Alec asked.

“New Mexico.”� Logan rolled the chair back
and forth slightly.� “And, considering that my girlfriend is on the
military’s Ten Most Wanted List � and probably has no constitutional
rights either � it’s not like I can take her with me.”

“What about another transfusion?”

Logan shook his head.� “Even if it works,
what does that make me?� Some kind of junkie, living off transgenic
blood, like those kids we met last spring?� Besides, the recovery would
get shorter and less effective every time.� I’d rather just have it
happen and deal with it.”

“Well, how long would you have to be in
New Mexico?� Couple of weeks?� Max would miss
you, but�”

“No.”� Logan cut him off, his voice quiet
but fierce.� “I’d have to be gone six months, minimum.� I won’t leave
Max like that, not with the danger she’s in�”

“Max can look out for herself.”

“I don’t want to look out for her.� I want
to stay with her.”

“Yeah, well, you know Max is gonna
make you go.”

“She can’t make me do anything.�
Especially if she doesn’t know there’s any reason to make me.”

“You’re not going to tell her?”

“Not right away.”� Logan looked steadily
at Alec.� “I won’t leave her.� So, it’s better if she doesn’t think
I might have a reason to leave her.”

“Yeah, but…” Alec began, stopping as a powerful flashlight beam
hit him right in the face.

Asha and three S1W members stood in the doorway.

“What
the hell are you doing here?� I could hear you the last three floors
as we were coming up,” she hissed as she pushed the apartment door closed.

“We
just came to…” Alec began.

“Clemente
wants Logan’s ass.� He’s got the whole city looking for him.� Don’t
you monitor the police band in Terminal City?” Asha asked, her voice growing louder.� “Coming back to this
apartment is the dumbest thing you could have done.”

She
swung the flashlight beam around, then stopped
as she saw Logan in the wheelchair.

“Why
did you come here?” she asked, suspicious.

“We
just…we were out late, thought we’d crash,” Alec answered, as Logan scrambled out of the chair.

“Thought
they might have missed a couple of bottles of Pinot I had in the closet,”
Logan answered, pushing the wheelchair back toward
the wall.� “Plus, I was running out of boxer shorts.”

“Pull
the car into the garage,” Asha ordered the
young blonde man standing near the wall.� He turned to head out the
door.� “We need to get you two to the safe house before anyone else
notices you’re here.”

“Hey,
we do need to get a few things,” Alec interrupted, nodding toward the
chair as Asha turned to leave.�

Logan shook his head slightly.� “Not to worry.�
We still have some time,” he muttered softly.

Chastened,
the two men followed Asha out the door.

As
the S1W van left the parking garage, the police car pulled in.

�

Outside of the living quarters, Terminal City � 11:00 PM

Max
sat on the steps, staring into the night.� Terminal City was finally
dark, quiet at the end of the day.

�Max,
you okay?�

Max
looked up to find Ginger standing beside her.

Max
sighed and looked up at the moon.� “Why is it that the sky is clear
at night, but the sun never shines during the day?”

Ginger
sat down next to Max.� “You get things straightened out…you know,
from earlier?”

“Yeah,”
Max replied.� She sighed and leaned back against the building.

“You
want to talk about it?”

Max
shook her head.� “No, I don’t.� Sorry, Ginger.� I�m not very good company
tonight.� Too many responsibilities, not enough answers…what I can’t
figure out is how I ended up here…this was never my dream.� I had
a life, a job, friends. A strange little life, I admit, but it was mine.�
I want that back.”

“Yeah,”
Ginger answered.

Max
turned to look at her.� “What did you do?� You know, before…”

“Well,
I was at Manticore most of the time, but I
did have this great assignment, about five years ago.� They sent me
down to New Orleans.� My cover had me cooking in this fabulous Cajun
joint.”

“Never
been to New Orleans…heard it’s cool, though,” Max sighed.

“Yeah,
I was there for I guess about a year, then one day the mission was over
and I was back at Manticore.� I think deep
down I knew I was disappointed, but on the other hand, I was so much
a part of the mentality of that place that I thought it was wrong to
have my own wishes and desires.”

The
two women sat quietly.� After a few minutes, Ginger stood up and held
her hand out to Max.

“I
think we both need to get out of here.� I told OC I’d meet her at her
place around midnight.� You want to come?”

“OC?� Man, now I know it’s serious…” Max teased.

END
OF ACT II

>>
ACT
III