A/N: Ok.. so here am I trying my hand at a new fic….Just so every one is clear…in this fic after the '09 escape the twins were considered a flight risk and all.. you know the deal.. but they were separated….so when it comes time for the meeting… 494 never saw 453 all grown up.. so he does not know what she looks like! Thank you.. and good night!
"See you're back at it. Rockin' the boat," Max spoke sadly, watching Logan while he was unaware of her presence.
"Somebody's got to," he remarked snidely.
"I would have come sooner, but….I didn't. How you doin'?" Max ignored his toned, stepping slowly into his office.
"Not in any pain," Logan continued with his bitterness as he turned away. "The good and bad news of a blown out spinal cord."
Max leaned against the door frame, "I'm sorry," she went ahead and said it, anything to try and get his mood out of the gutter.
Logan didn't turn around to address her. "My Mother used to say, "The universe is right on schedule. Everything happens the way its supposed to."
"You believe that?" Max shot back at him.
"I've never been much for trying to figure out why bad things happen. I just know they do. So, the job's trying to figure out how to deal with the consequences," Logan finally turned to look her in the eye. "Which you did. Took that son of a bitch out."
Max shrugged it off, "Not me personally."
"Well," he kept pushing. 'On account of you Sonrisa didn't get to kill the judge or buy the jury. He's gone, once and for all. It was war Max, and you won."
'Well duh,' Max thought. 'I'm a solider its what I do.' "He had it coming," she chose to say. "A friend of mine died on account of him."
"Sorry." Logan whispered. It didn't sound like he really meant it though as he reached underneath his desk. "This is for you." Max was a little weary of the whole gift giving scene; not very many people gave away something for nothing. "Open it," he encouraged.
Lifting the lid, Max eyed the Egyptian model of Bast that Logan had left at her apartment months ago. "Turned up on the black market, somehow," he clarified as if it was no big deal.
"Thanks," Max said slowly, still cautious about where this was going.
"I need a favor," Logan replied almost immediately, dropping the other shoe that she had been waiting for.
"You can keep this," Max all but growled sliding the case none too gently back onto his desk. "I really don't have anyplace to put it."
Not paying her any attention, he continued talking. "I need you to do a little leg work for me." Max straightened to her full height, not liking where this was going. "Joel Solinski, This guy's got a wife with three kids, an ex-wife with two kids, a mistress, and two girlfriends. The wives get houses, the mistress a condo, and everybody gets a car...all on a harbormaster's salary."
"I caught the tail end of your hack," she felt obliged to inform him, geesh it was like talking to a two year old. "The guy's on the take. He's paid to look the other way while the smugglers deep-six their cargo."
"He's made a fortune...as an accessory to murder." He turned to face her once more, giving her that 'holier than thou' stare.
"Okay, so the guy's a beast," Max snapped out. "Doesn't mean I got to get involved."
"You are involved. By being alive, you're involved," Max bristled at his comment, now he was talking to her like she was the toddler.
"I got my own problems," Max stated, just in case he had forgotten.
Choosing to ignore her statement, Logan went on with his condescending tirade, "Look...maybe we got screwed out of living in a time when we could hang out for the afternoon in a cafe someplace wearing $2,000 wristwatches, planning our next vacation," Max rolled her eyes in annoyance wondering just what the hell had crawled up this guys butt today of all days. "But the world got a whole lot meaner all of a sudden. It wasn't supposed to...but it did. So now it's back to the law of the jungle and there are predators and victims."
"And you still think you can do something to change that?" It was her turn to be condescending.
"With your help," Logan replied, always looking for a hand out.
"Look, one thing I'm not is a chump. You want to get the rest of your ass shot off...be my guest, but I kind of like being able to walk." He was out of his mind if he seriously thought she would do this for him.
Smirking like a kid on Christmas morning who already knew what was waiting underneath the tree Logan opened a near by filing cabinet and pulled out a folder. "On another matter...federal corrections used to keep records on distinguishing marks...scars, tattoos," the tiny hairs on the back of Max's neck began to tingle. There was something in his all too superior voice that was beginning to bug her. "I did a search," He continued, scratching the back of his head absently. "And came up with this, ID-ed as a Michael Hanover. Booked for armed robbery nine years ago. He escaped custody after four hours. Hasn't been seen or heard from since."
Taking the offered file a chill shot down her spine. "Zack," she whispered to herself, recognizing the face instantly. In a split second the shock had passed, and then Max was mad. Almost crushing the folder in her grip, Max kicked out her foot, wheeling Logan's chair around so he once again faced her. "And exactly when were you going to tell me about this?"
Eyes widening, he unconsciously slumped back into his chair. Realizing the weakness he had shown, Logan's eyes narrowed and he sat straight once again and snatched the file from out of her hand. "You found out when the time was right."
He was using the two year old voice again. Max bared her teeth in a snarl. "I found out when the time was 'right' for a typical moment of emotional shock in which a sadistic sleaze-ball could practically blackmail me. That information was rightfully mine from the get-go and you just sat there with it in your pocket like a card-shark with an ace up his sleeve." Snatching the file back out of his grip, Max turned angrily on her heel. "Get your ass shot off all you want, I'm out."
Break.
"Where do you think you're gonna go Boo?" Original Cindy tapped her foot impatiently as Max emptied her locker out.
"Away," Max fumed. Shoving a spare change of clothes into her bag all of her energy suddenly left her and Max dropped wearily down on to the bench. "I just can't stay here anymore," Max grumbled, head in her hands so she didn't have to look her best friend in the face. "You know Normal, Walter," waving her hand erratically she tried to come up with a plausible excuse. "Seattle's just not my scene anymore."
"Fine, you gonna be like that then get," O.C. huffed, slamming the locker door before storming away.
"Great, just great," Max hissed out. "O.C. wait!" Shouldering her pack Max jogged to catch up with her. "I didn't mean it like that. All I was trying to say is I need a break." 'A permanent one,' Max thought to herself as she remembered her brush with Lydecker. Seattle wasn't safe for her, and her friends weren't safe with her. "How's about I drop you a line when I get settled down somewhere, you can ever come for an extended visit." She was pulling out all the stops in hopes of pacifying the angry Nubian goddess.
"Boo you know I can't afford no extended vacation. Brings me to the point how the hell you gonna afford a relocation on a Jam Pony salary?" Original Cindy made a good point as she finally halted her march in front of the dispatch desk.
"Shit," the expletive slipped out of Max's mouth, drawing a few looks from around room. "I've got some saved up," quick on the recovery, however lame. "You know, new part for my bike." There, that was better.
"Whatever," Cindy rolled her eyes. "I've got a run to make, just make sure you drop me that line Boo. You know I'm here for you." Drawing her in for a quick hug, Cindy mounted her bike and pedaled away.
"Later," Max lamely called after her before realizing there would be no later. Taking one last look around, Max pulled her hat low over her eyes and walked out the door for the last time. Cindy had a point, Jam Pony paid crap and she was severely short of cash. "I should have pocketed that statue when I had the chance," she grumbled, bummed that hindsight was 20-20. Then she had an idea.
Break.
"I'll give you seventy-five grand for the lot," the fence had the non-interested face down pat as he thumbed through the loot.
Max just rolled her eyes. "It's worth three times that easy."
Chewing sloppily on his cigar, the fence blew a puff of smoke out of his nostrils. "Then get yourself another dealer sweet-cheeks. I aint never done business with you before and I don't deal in fancy-pancy goods like these very often. Take it or leave it."
This was starting to piss her off but she didn't have much time. "Tag on another hundred g's and you gotta deal."
"You've gotta be out of your pretty lil mind," the dealer scoffed as the stogie rolled to the other side of his mouth. "Maybe I can push it for a hundred thou."
Max had to cross her arms in front of her to stop from decking the guy. "Who the hell do you think you are trying to shake me down like this?" she bit out. "One-Sixty!"
Pushing away from the table he stood up, trying to intimidate her with his pudgy girth. "I've told you before sweetheart, I don't move shit like this that often, one-twenties the best I can do."
'That's a little better,' Max thought to her self, 'but not good enough.' "You shouldn't curse at a lady like that, it's not very nice. The slip just got my price pushed to a hundred and thirty-five thousand."
"You're a tough bitch you know that?" he said as he sat back down. "I like that; you've got yourself a deal." From some random desk drawer that Max couldn't see the fence pulled out a chest jam packed with money. It took him a few minutes to count through it all before he closed the lid and pushed away from the desk once more. "Cutting it mighty close," pulling out his wallet he removed another two grand and added it to the chest before sliding it over to her. "It's all yours now, but I'm telling you, you want to come here and deal again, I don't want any of that smart mouth."
"You won't be seeing me again," Max clarified as she looked the case and deposited it safely in her back pack and left without saying another word.
Break.
The next morning Max found herself sitting coach on a flight to Paris France, her Ninja tucked away in the cargo hold, crammed between a man who you would think would have learned to lay of the Twinkies decades ago and a frumpy woman coddling a too loud infant. 'Next time I'm so springing for first class,' she told herself.
Back in Seattle Logan Cale stretched lazily before sitting up and pulling himself into his wheel chair. Pushing his glasses up his nose he turned to roll into the kitchen for some breakfast when he noticed a bare spot on the wall. "What the hell?" Logan quickly exited the bedroom when he heard his front door opening. "Bling?" he called out.
"Logan man, you remodeling and decided not to tell me?" true to Bling's word, Logan's apartment was completely bare of all its previous grandeur. However, there were no word's left to utter from Logan's slack jawed mouth.
A/N: ok… that's all I've got for you right now cause I have a huge test tomorrow that I need to study for…so just take a minute or two to review and tell me what you think while I work on cranking out part two……