Disclaimer: Max, Logan, Dark Angel are James C's. Madrigal, Cole, Zoe , Mackenzie and Robert Orantio are characters of my weird little mind.
Oh, and CIA codes spell out sensitive names with first letters. (Marylin Amanda Xallan's Monet On Mainstreet= Max's Mom)
Logan noticed the little flashing red button on his computer. It was 1:34 a.m. and it wasn't unsual for his sources to call. Anyone tracing them was les likely to do so now. He picked up the reciever and put the scrambler on it. "Hello, Janson & DiFiore Advertising, Andrew Clark speaking." (Note: He's gotta have a cover story) "Hey Andrew, it's Herold." Robert Orantio, Los Angeles, California; his computer trace read. "Party at Marylin Amanda Xallan's Monet On Mainstreet. Better be there. I found a date for your buddy. You know where to meet me. 5:00 p.m. tomorrow, bring your girlfriend," drawled the voice on the other end. "Will do. I owe you." Logan hung up. Then he picked up the line again. Rinnnng.
Max's apartment
Rinnnng. Damn phone, Max thought. It hadn't woken her because she didn't sleep, but her neighbors would complain. "Listen buddy, it's 1 in the morning. Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't hang up," she snarled. "Max, it's Logan. Get dressed and get to my place. We found her." The line went dead.
Highway in Oregon
"So why are we driving to L.A. again? How the hell do you even know this guy is legit? Logan?" Max looked at him in the passenger seat. Then she realized he was asleep. She sighed, then swerved the car so Logan woke with a start. "What the…" he looked at her accusingly. "There was a deer in the road." she said sweetly. Logan stretched. "Ugh. How long have I been asleep?" "Last time I saw you concious was at the gas station in Salem." She made a face. "It's no fun to drive a beat-up old car a 100 miles to find out if someone has the right person, or a is just jerking you, without anyone to talk to." Logan smirked. "When did you get so big on companionship?" Since I saved yourass from that sniper,she thought. "And don't worry. This guy hasn't failed me yet. He's the one who helped me find those files on Zack." Max snorted. "Hell of lot of good those did." "I'm truly sorry we couldn't find him, Max. You know I'm trying to find them." She looked at him for a second, and Logan would have sworn her eyes were filled with sorrow for a moment. "I' m just worried about meeting my moth-" She caught herself.
The warrior-mask fell once more. "About this being a trap. I saved your ass from snipers once, and I don't wanna have to do it again." Shame she's so callous all the time, he thought, her eyes are so beautiful… "There's our exit… Hey, Logan! Wake up! You're not falling asleep again, are you?" she demanded. Logan shook himself. "No, I was just pitying any poor bastard who tries to pass us…"
Deficit Café, Los Angeles, CA
"The guy in the red baseball cap. Third booth from the left." Max reported. Logan nodded. "Herold. You found our friend?" Logan asked casually. The man nodded curtly. "Yeah. Here's the address. Look for the mailbox with 'Madri's' written on it." Max and Logan walked back to the car.
129 Atlantic Drive, Nalri, CA
There it was. A two-story brick cottage with trees and a garden and a doormat. Max just sat, staring at the house, her breathing erratic. "Max? Are you having another seizure?"Logan asken sharply. She shook her head. "Do you want me to go with you?" he asked much more gently. Again no. Max got out of the car, and walked up the path. Children's handprints were imbedded in the concrete. She didn't stop to read the names.
Max rang the doorbell. "Hello?" A woman in her early forties had answered. Dark curly hair, huge brown eyes. "Are you Madrgial Guevara?" The woman nodded like she new what was coming next. "I think I'm your daughter."
~ To Be Continued~