General disclaimer: Max Steel belongs to many companies, Kids' WB!, two different computer animation companies, and a whole mess-o corporate executives. This story is my personal work derived from my inner child getting hold of an uzi and obliterating my good side.
IMMOBILEONE: THE ACCIDENT
BY:
Maxy Steel
A.N.: This takes place in canon, and is set a year in the future. Nothing much has changed, it's only a little more obvious that Max and Rachel are in love, though they still won't admit it. ^_^;
It started out about as normal as a mission could be. Major city, large, important building full of hostages, and a large bomb rigged on the top floor. Max, Kat, all of Team Steel weren't expecting anything besides the usual. The dare-devil duo drops in on the bad guys, takes them out, disarms the bomb, the hostages are safe, end of story. In fact, it was a topic of discussion even as they flew Hawk to the mission site.
"You ever think this is just a little too easy?" Max commented casually. Kat raised an eyebrow, and leaned forward a bit to hear him better.
"Think what is too easy?" she questioned.
"The missions. I know it seems hard when we're actually in the middle of them, but afterwards, it seems so easy, I laugh," the brunette super agent explained. Kat shook her head slightly.
"Only you, Steel. I'm just glad we make it out. But yeah, there are some that seem like they should have been harder. But I'm not complaining," she told him thoughtfully. Max was silent for a moment, thinking of a response.
"You two may want to refocus your attention on your mission, preferably before you crash into the side of the building," a third voice piped suddenly. Max's attention snapped to directly in front of Hawk, and he pulled up just in time to avoid splattering himself, Kat, and the jet against the side of the glass and cement structure.
"Let's save the heart-to-hearts for after the job's done," Kat suggested once her breathing returned to normal. Max nodded slightly, and set the small plane to hover near the roof, in stealth mode. There were six men on the roof, each holding a laser gun of some sort.
"You want the right, or the left?" Steel questioned, looking to his partner. Kat had already unbuckled her seatbelt, and was poised for the jump.
"Left. See you on the roof," she told him. The lid flipped up, and the two agents tossed themselves at the roof. Kat took out two in an impressive flying kick, while Max landed near his opponents, and K.O.-ed all three with a spinning jump kick. Inadvertently, he knocked one off the edge, and just barely managed to catch the unconscious terrorist. Tossing the guy onto the floor, Max dusted off his hands and turned to Kat.
"You just gonna stand there, Steel, or would you like to continue?" the blue-banged female questioned, raising one eyebrow. Max rolled his eyes, and followed her into the building.
"You get the hostages out. I'll find our bad guy," the teenager replied, turning down a different hallway. Kat raced off in the opposite direction.
"Okay, bro. Got any suggestions? Left, right?" Max said, glancing down a hallway.
"Right," Berto said with confidence. Max slammed shoulder first into the wooden barrier, and instantly found himself on the floor, a few feet from a panicked female hostage, and looking up into the barrel of a shot gun.
"Wrong door, bro," Max grumbled, flipping to his feet just before the gun went off. Carpet and cement sprayed in all directions. The three hostages in the room backed up. In a flash move, the secret agent slammed his attacker into the wall, and into unconsciousness. One behind him raised his weapon and an flash of fire, accompanied by a loud crack of gunfire, sprayed from the gun. A yelp of pain pierced the air...
Kat kicked down a door, and rushed inside to find a cowering young man huddled beside the coffee maker. She knelt beside him, checking for damages.
"Sir, come on. We've got to get you out of here," she said quickly, urgently. For a moment, the terror was so great, the young man wouldn't move. With a sigh, Kat grabbed the guy's arm, and pulled him to his feet. He consented to being led out of the room, a little hesitantly.
"Just go down this hall, and there are a bunch of people there. Stay with them. I'll be back in a few minutes," she promised. He nodded, and let go of her hand.
"Kat, how'er you doing?" Max's voice came over the ear piece, sounding a little strained. Kat nodded to herself. It was probably nothing.
"Just fine, Steel. I'll take these hostages down and out of here," she said calmly. In the background, she could faintly hear moving feet.
"I'm sending five more in your direction. Make sure they get out safe," was the reply. The brown-haired female agent frowned slightly. That slight strain in his voice was still there.
"Max, you okay? You sound kind of funny," she commented, almost before she'd realized it. There was an irritated sigh on Max's end, and a short cough.
"Don't worry about me," the super-agent assured. Kat shook her head, but let it go. Max was stubborn, and there was no point in risking the hostage's lives by spending extra time arguing with him. She went to find the people Max had sent.
"Kat, come in," Berto called suddenly. With a sigh, the female agent adjusted the headset.
"Go ahead, Martinez," she approved.
"Max got himself hurt. Rachel's on her way," the Spanish teenager replied.
"I copy, Berto. You sure I shouldn't go get Max?" she said quickly.
"Rachel will handle him. You just get those people out of there," the young man explained. Kat sighed, replied affirmative, then rushed off.
Max winced as he rushed along the hallway, still trying to find the lead terrorist, and the bomb. Dark red stained his left side, where the shot gun blast had done a little more than grazed him. He had one hand pressed to it, and was certain it wasn't that bad.
"Max, forget this guy. Just get out of the area. The hostages are clear. Don't put yourself in any more danger than you're already in," Berto scolded. Characteristically, Max shook his head, and groaned.
"No go, bro. I'm already here, might as well get the guy. I'm not that hurt," he insisted calmly. Berto shook his head, and sighed.
"Your stubbornness is going to get you in more trouble than you're already in, hermano," the boy told his older partner. Despite his situation, Max had to grin.
"Probably," he agreed, pausing and activating his enhanced hearing.
"I understand that there is resistance in the building," a deep, male voice said, coming from the left door down the hall. Max raced up to it, and waited outside, timing himself.
"Yes. They're taken out all of our men, and have found all the hostages. It's my understanding from Kicts that one is a young man, currently with injuries," a female voice added. Max sighed to himself. No doubt they were talking about him. Footsteps sounded from the room.
"Stealth mode," the young man muttered softly, hitting a button. His body vanished from view, just as the woman came out of the room. The invisible secret agent just managed to dodge into the room before the door closed. He looked around the room, and spotted his quarry. A dark haired man, with a thick beard, was standing near the center of the room, next to a large, mean-looking robot dog, and a large bomb.
"I know you're here. Show yourself, or I will detonate," the man said, almost casually. Shaking his head in disbelief, Max didn't respond.
"Wonder how he knew you came in, hermano," Berto commented, a little worriedly.
"Don't fool yourself, child. My pet knew you were here the second you stepped into the room," the deep-voiced man said condescendingly.
"Lucky guess on that thing's part. But you can't tell where I am," Max retorted, moving around the room as he spoke. The terrorist chuckled.
"True, I cannot. But, he can," he said, just as the metal dog turned, and tackled Max head-on, slamming the N-tek agent to the floor. Surprised, the anti-terrorist struggled to get to his feet, and was attacked again. His bio-link was cuffed by the creature, uncloaking him. With a pained grunt, the N-tek agent threw his tormentor off. It backed up, and went to it's master's side.
"Nice bodyguard," the teen commented, wincing. He allowed himself a glance at his wound. The dog had torn it more, he was bleeding worse.
"Yes, he's very dependable. Hmm, it appears my informant wasn't lying. You look to be in serious pain," the terrorist retorted. Max tightened his jaw.
"Not so much that I can't handle you and your robo-mutt," he declared confidently. His opponent snapped his fingers. The dog lunged, and caught the boy in a tackle, throwing him back to the ground, and doing it's best to keep him pinned. As he struggled with the machine, Max heard a helicopter outside the window. The same woman who had exited the room a few moments before was piloting. The dog sank it's metal jaws into Max's left wrist, eliciting a yelp of pain and effectively disabling all of the bio-link functions.
"I highly doubt that. I hope you didn't have anyone special you wanted to say good-bye to. You're about to die," the bearded man said with a sadistic grin, then walked to the window, and stepped out into the copter. Max was too busy keeping the metallic creature from tearing his throat open. By this time, he was struggling on a floor slippery with dark red, his blood. What had been a fairly minor gunshot had been ripped open by the robot, and was now approaching life-threatening. The copter had barely gotten twenty feet from the building, when there was a soft beep from the bomb. The last things Max saw were a flash from the object, and the wall rushing to meet him, face first. Shrapnel flew at him, digging into his body. The last thing he heard was his own scream of pain before darkness surrounded him.
Kat had just gotten the last hostage a safe distance from the building, when she heard an explosion, and turned to see the windows of the top floor shatter on one side. Her hand flew to her headset.
"Max! Max, come in. This is Kat. Do you copy?" she gasped. No reply from her partner's end. She closed her eyes, and mentally recited a prayer that he was still alive, at the very least, then rushed back into the building, heedless of her own safety.
"Kat, was Max with you?" Rachel's voice came over the brunette agent's headset. Kat shook her head, and heard a creak from the upper floors of the ten story building. The place was going to collapse in on itself soon.
"No, I think he's still in here. I'm trying to find him," she explained rapidly.
"I'll be there shortly," Rachel promised. Kat nodded to herself, and raced into the stairwell, taking the steps three at a time.
"Max? Max!" she kept calling at random intervals, waiting for him to yell back, anything. She got up to the floor that had been blown out. A cloud of dust smacked her head-on as she opened the door into the hallway. Once she'd bypassed the worst of it, the agent rushed around, still yelling. She found a door that had been completely blown off by the bomb. Peering in, she gasped. The remains of the bomb still sat in the middle of the room. Against one wall was a metal scrap heap that could have once been a dog or something. And on the floor next to the farthest wall, a motionless figure dressed in an N-tek uniform. Kat was by the agent in a second. She could already tell by the hair that it was Max.
"Max, up and att'em," she said in as normal a tone as she could manage, shaking his shoulder and trying to ignore the dark holes in his back. She checked his pulse, and was relieved to find it, though not exactly strong. She put one hand to her headset.
"Rachel, I found him," she announced.
"Good. Is he all right?" the older female agent was quick to question. Kat sat back on her heels, and sighed softly. "All right" wasn't a phrase she'd use to describe him at the moment.
"He's unconscious, but alive. He needs help, though," she said finally. She could almost see the worried look on Rachel's face deepen. It was pretty common knowledge that she was in love with the young agent laying before her, and vice versa.
"I'll be there in a moment," the blonde assured before clicking off. Kat used the time to attempt to wake Max, talking to him and prodding his shoulder, mindful of the shrapnel cuts and teeth marks. It became apparent that he was in some other world at that point. She glanced over her shoulder, hearing movement. Rachel, along with Nez and several other agents, was in the door way. The blonde agent gasped when she saw the fallen young man.
"Come on, we've got to get him out of here," Jake announced, as two of the men entered the room, and helped pull their fellow agent onto a piece of ceiling. The second his back touched the solid surface, Max cried out loudly, back arching, teeth tightly clenched. Rachel grabbed his hand, and squeezed it. He mimicked the gesture, then went completely limp, sliding fully back into unconsciousness.
Four hours later, Jeff was rushing through the halls of N-tek, the report still clutched in one hand. At point, he only knew that Max had been seriously injured after being caught by an explosion. He had no idea how severe his son's condition was, what he was going to find when he reached the medical bay. Rachel and Kat looked up as he entered. Both were on their feet in a second.
"How is he doing?" Smith asked. Now was not the time for formalities. Kat and Rachel exchanged quick glances, then both shook their heads.
"He was still under anesthetic when we saw him last," Rachel said finally. Behind her, the medical bay door's opened, and Berto stepped out. Everyone turned to look at the youngest agent hopefully.
"We've done all we can. He's in recovery," the Spanish teenager said simply, adjusting his glasses. Smith stepped forward.
"Can I see him?" he asked calmly. The younger man nodded, and stood to one side, allowing the father to enter. He went after him, and pointed at one of the rooms.
"He's in there. Still worn out from everything, but he should be out of the anesthetic," he explained, then entered one of the labs. Smith nodded, and opened the door. The room wasn't blazingly lit, but it wasn't dark. On the bed near the window, was Max. Laying facedown, sheet pulled up to his waist, bandages covering his entire back. Jefferson walked to his son's side, and looked down at him. The injured agent was shaking slightly.
"Josh?" he asked softly, hesitant to touch the boy, unsure how badly he was hurt in which places. Max pushed his upper body up ever so slightly, and turned his head to look at the visitor.
"Dad?" he asked weakly. The father nodded slightly.
"How are you feeling?" Smith questioned quietly. Max shifted slightly, and winced.
"Like I was caught in an explosion," he quipped pathetically, attempting a slight grin. Despite the situation, Jeff had to chuckle. Max tried to move a little more, and froze, looking shocked.
"Josh? What's wrong?" the boy's father asked worriedly.
"I-I can't move my legs. I can feel them, but..." he replied, the beginnings of panic etching his features. His father laid a hand on the agent's shoulder, lucky not hitting any of his injuries.
"Josh, calm down. I'll get Martinez," he said quickly, then turned and left the room. Berto looked up from a lab report to see his best friend's father enter the room, and the concerned expression on his face. The report was on the desk in a second.
"Something happen?" he asked, getting up.
"Maybe you can tell me. Max says he can't move his lower body," Smith replied. Berto sighed, and picked up the report beside the one he'd set down, and looked it over quickly.
"I was afraid of this. The explosion he was caught in damaged his spine. The shrapnel didn't help much, either," the young agent explained, moving towards the recovery room. Smith was on his heels as the boy entered the gray-walled room. Max turned his head slightly, hearing them come in.
"Hey, bro. What's the verdict?" he asked weakly. His younger friend smiled in reply, and glanced at the monitors.
"Relax, hermano. I want you to try and move your legs again," he said calmly. Max shot him a raised eyebrow in response.
"I can't," he said quietly. Berto rolled his eyes.
"Humor me, Max," he retorted sternly. Max's brow furrowed in concentration, and he groaned softly. His lower body didn't even twitch. Berto put a hand on the older agent's shoulder comfortingly.
"Get some more rest, hermano," he said quietly, then turned to leave the room. Smith lingered in the room a few minutes longer until Max did fall asleep, then left the room. He found Berto in the lab again.
"What's going on? Is he going to be okay?" Jeff questioned calmly. The young man sighed and shook his head.
"For the most part, he'll be fine, given a chance to heal. Except...for the time being, he has no chance of walking again," the scientist sighed. Smith sighed, and nodded, pressing one hand to his head.
"I'll tell Max," he offered, turning. Berto stopped him.
"No, not yet. I want to run a few more tests, see if there's a chance he could walk again," the young man said calmly. The injured agent's father turned to regard the Spanish agent coolly.
"Fine," was all he said, then walked away. Berto sighed, and threw the report down. This isn't happening. He sank down into the chair. Why did this have to happen? he wondered with a deep sigh. If this was true, and Max was now a paraplegic, he didn't want to think about what that would do to his friend's psyche. Extreme sports star, field agent, he couldn't be either in this condition. That would hurt the young man even more than the accident that started all this...
There ya go, part one. I'll have part two out when I can. It should be a little longer, maybe...I don't know! It's not written yet! Well...I'll try to get it up ASAP! Catch ya later! Luv ya all!
-Maxy Steel