Disclaimer: Max Steel, and associated characters, do not belong to me in any way, shape or form. There's a list of companies that this awesome show does belong to, but at this point I think they've changed hands so much, I'm not sure who it is. Anyway, I'm not on the list. Sad.
Author's note: So, after much consideration, I've decided that the rest of this story will take place about a year after the end of season 2, but with the assumption that season 3, and all of the Max Steel movies and "N-Tek Adventures" did not ever occur. None of this FBI shutting down N-Tek crap. It was so thrown in, it was clearly because terrorist fighting secret agents had become "not PC" and so they could overuse the "Oh no, Josh! You're using your probes too much! You're gonna die!" *zap crackle dramatic Max/Josh appearance crackle* "I'll be fine, there's no other choice" drama stuff. And no crazy grotesquely mutated evil super villains. If anyone's watched the Max Steel movies (they are actually really cute) I'm talking about Elementor, and Extractor, mainly. If I want those, I'll watch Batman, which I also love very much. But Batman fights super villains, and it is accepted that Batman is so awesome, you are kind of required to be some sort of mutated super villain to even throw a punch at him. Max, while also incredibly awesome, fights terrorists, with the occasional crazy person thrown in for added flavor. Woody, I'm looking at you. Bio-Con toes the line, but because he was in Season 2, we'll let it slither. Ha ha, that was a bad pun. Season 3 did, however, have a couple of good episodes (Prey was awesome, even if Christian Campbell didn't do Max's voice, which made watching the whole episode weird) so I'm willing to compromise and let some of them stay. I can't find about half of the rest of Season 3, because Max Steel is rapidly becoming extinct on American accessible media waves, but from fan fiction I've read, Fan Appreciation can stay too. Because Kat needs more love, even if it's the creepy stalker kind. Oh, and one last thing. I'm kind of a blood thirsty little bugger, and I kinda went to town on this one part in here. So be warned, graphic violence. And now, after that painfully long AN, on with the fic!
Team Steel Maximum: Recharged
Discovery
By:
Detonator Stera
Two years later...
Max was down in the TSO room, listening, with a wholehearted attempt at interest, to Berto's explanation of the new program upgrades he'd just finished on the bio-link and the console. Comp-jargon, while more understandable now, was still very much a foreign language, especially when Berto started getting excited, and mixing the occasional Spanish alternative in. Therefore, when Kat walked in, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Berto paused in his explanation, looking over as well, as the female member of Team Steel came to stand behind his chair.
"Intel from our agents in Washington puts a Dread base, a lab by the sound of it, up near the Cascades," she announced. Berto looked over at Max, who nodded, a feral gleam in his eyes. "They figured Team Steel'd want to be in on the take down," Kat added, folding her arms. The super agent rose from his lean against the console's edge.
"Sounds good, when do we leave?" he questioned. Kat grinned.
"Five minutes ago."
"Cool."
It was approaching dusk by the time Hawk touched down at the temporary N-Tek base set up near the Dread lab. Max flicked off his flight harness, hopped out of the small jet, and found himself all but nose to nose with a beautiful blonde he'd never thought to see again.
"Rachel?" he managed around the shock. She tipped her head back slightly, met his eyes with that steady green gaze he'd never quite gotten out of his head.
"Mr. Steel, it's been a while," she replied formally. "Too long," she added, just barely perceptible to Max's enhanced hearing, flicking her gaze away. He cocked his head, opened his mouth to comment.
"Hey, Leeds," Kat piped casually, levering herself over the edge of Hawk's cockpit. She landed neatly at Max's side, resting one hand on her hip. Rachel looked between them, nodded to Kat.
"Kat, fitting in well with Team Steel, from what I've heard," she replied.
"Like a glove," the younger woman smirked. Something flickered in Rachel's gaze, quickly controlled.
"Glad to hear it. I'm happy for the both of you," she commented, turned to move away. It took only a second for both Max and Kat to process. They shot each other horrified looks, springing away from one another as if a flame had shot up between them.
"I didn't mean it like that," Kat hastened to explain, mortified. Max grimaced, shuddered.
"Talk about sister material," he muttered, scowling at Berto's snickering. Despite her sincere agreement with the comment, Kat was honor bound to punch him for the slight before striding off. Rachel's mouth curved in amusement at the exchange, then she turned to head into the base.
An hour later, Team Steel and the other agents stationed at the base were in the ops room, going over the what they had of the building layout.
"We're not entirely sure what's inside; we've only managed to confirm the presence of Dread operatives, and scientists," one of the agents admitted.
"It's enough. Max and Kat will enter from the northwest service duct. Alear, Vulimi, Paleli, and Renev will cover the main entrance; if anything goes amiss, they will be your back up. The rest of you will stand by," Rachel instructed, tapping different points on the map. Everyone nodded, and rose, heading for the door. Max casually sidled up next to his former partner.
"What about you, boss? Going in the sardine can with us?" he questioned with a grin, praying he didn't sound too hopeful. Rachel looked up at him, and her lips curved in a quick, amused smile.
"Unfortunately not, Mr. Steel. I'll be waiting with the standby team. In the event you need... rescuing," she replied, to which Max immediately scoffed.
"As if. Hey, what are you doing back in the States, anyway? I thought you'd gotten stationed back in Europe or something," he piped a moment later. Rachel was quiet for a moment.
"I was," she agreed simply. At Max's steady look, she scowled. "As Director of Operations, my job does include some hands on work, especially when dealing with an organization such as Dread. Even if he is behind bars," she concluded, breezing ahead of the younger agent. Max sighed, then turned when Kat poked him in the ribs.
"I take it she missed you," she observed wryly. Max shot her a look. Kat dropped it. Emotional minefields weren't really her specialty.
Night had fallen completely, lending Hawk an extra layer of cover as the small jet approached the Dread base.
"Remember, communications will likely be cut once you're in the building. Don't do anything too crazy, hermano," Berto cautioned.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Max replied cheekily.
"He does anything stupid, I'll save his butt," Kat assured from the back seat. Max shot her a withering look out of the corner of his eye, then turned his attention back to landing the small aircraft, as silently as possible, on the building's roof. Years of practice made the task simple enough, and in seconds both agents were standing in front of the grate blocking their entry into the building. Max cocked his head a moment, listening for footsteps close by. Hearing none, he whipped the grate off with pathetic ease, laying it to the side as quietly as he could manage.
"Max, Kat, remember; if we don't hear from you within an hour, we're coming in," Rachel cautioned them.
"Hear ya loud and clear, boss," Kat replied.
"You got it, Rache," Max acknowledged, then crouched and began to crawl into the duct, Kat soon following suit.
"Good luck, hermano," Berto called, just before his view screen faded to gray static. Ignoring the automatic clutch in his gut at losing that connection to his partner, the Hispanic scientist turned his attention to the monitor linked to Rachel's group. A quick tap of fingers secured his comm line to Rachel's only.
"You two should talk after this is over," he told her.
"I don't think now is an appropriate time—" the blond agent started to reply.
"He missed you," the younger agent interrupted quietly. There was a long pause, a soft sigh.
"I know. I did, too."
It is tricky to crawl down a hollow metal tunnel without making noise, but Max and Kat were doing an admirable job, moving from one jut in the duct to another, peering out to get a lay of the land without detection. Most of the rooms were unremarkable; kitchen, obvious living quarters from some of the scientists purported to be there, armory, security room. Max paused when he reached an opening that looked down into what appeared to be a large training area. There were dark, reddish stains here and there in the room. A faint coppery smell reached Max's enhanced senses, the musty stench of old blood. He shuddered a little.
"What were they doing here?" he muttered, barely loud enough for Kat to hear. She scooted forward, peered down as well.
"Hardcore training," she guessed. The super agent nodded gravely, then shifted to move on.
They passed a few more unremarkable rooms, then found another, that turned their blood cold. The room was solid concrete, with heavy blast doors the only way in or out. It was considerably more gruesome than the other room. Old stains splattered on the floor in bigger areas, and arched across the walls in long sprays. There was an object on the floor, near the corner; Max zoomed in on it, out of curiosity, and recoiled when he realized it was a hand, severed at the wrist, and badly decomposed.
"I really don't want to know what they were doing in here," he muttered, scooting back.
"We'll find out soon," Kat pointed out, giving the room a last disgusted glance.
Berto felt a decided sense of... unease. Something told him that he should have insisted on accompanying his partners. Berto sighed. He'd learned long ago to trust gut instincts when it came to dealing with Max Steel. He quickly gathered up his laptop and the portable generator, and snagged his earpiece off the console. He then left the ops room, contacting Marshak with a request to meet at the Behemoth. Better safe than sorry.
Max and Kat's path came to an abrupt end soon after that last messy room, but Max observed heavily fortified doors through an opening at the end of the duct. He checked for approaching steps, then pried the cover off the duct opening.
"We need to get in there. I'll bet that's where the lab is," he told Kat, gesturing.
"Question is, how? We should've brought Berto, or one of his gadgets," she replied. Max tuned up his enhanced hearing again, caught the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Someone's coming. I'll follow after them in stealth, let you in when I can," he told her in a whisper. Kat frowned a little, but nodded.
"I hear anything I don't like, I'm bustin' down the door," she warned. Max grinned at her.
"Wouldn't expect less. Stealth mode," he replied, feeling the familiar rush of the probes activating. He dropped down from the duct, landing with a quiet thump. He hurried to the door, studied it a moment, then tucked himself next to the barrier, out of sight of the scanning eye required for entry. A moment later, a woman in a long lab coat rounded the corner, her nose buried in the report in her hands. She strode up to the door, absently keyed in the code with one hand, raising her head briefly for the retinal scan. The lock on the door chimed green, and the barrier slid open. Max let her pass through, then nipped in after her, the door snicking closed just after his heel passed through. The super agent took three steps into the room, then froze, all coherent thought flying from his mind. There were rows upon rows of giant, clear fluid-filled tubes set up in the huge room. In each one floated a human body, clad in a dark jump suit, it's features partially obscured by an air mask. With a huff of breath, Max shook off the effect of the creepy display, and approached one of the containers, despite having seen enough sci-fi movies to know that he'd probably regret it. He wasn't disappointed, getting the second bad jolt as he stared into the seemingly sleeping face of the tube's occupant. He could have been looking into a mirror. The being inside had his face.
Max felt his heart thud hard against his ribs, and he reached up without thinking, touching the glass containing the... clone? He jumped when the imprisoned figure opened it's eyes, their color a steady, too-bright green. And completely void of emotion. The clone's brow furrowed slightly, as if it could see him, then it closed it's eyes again. Max could feel his heart jumping into his throat as he backed away from the tube, and cast a frantic glance around. The other tubes contained the same thing. Clones in the perfect likeness of Max Steel.
Thoroughly weirded out, the brunette agent stumbled down a couple more aisles, a voice in his head, that sounded suspiciously like Rachel, ordering him firmly to focus. He noted the location of three more scientists, and the placement of the half dozen guards. He was just about to move back up to the door he'd entered from, let Kat know what he'd found, when he noticed something. A pile of smaller, almost coffin-like tubes heaped haphazardly in one corner of the room. Common sense told him to leave it alone. Max had never been good at listening to that portion of his brain. He headed for the pile.
When he was closer, the super agent noticed air vents on the side of the tubes, and a sticker. Marked for termination. The feeling of dread felt like a lead weight in his gut as he approached the heap. The first couple he looked in were mercifully empty, but the last one held another clone. Max had a moment to think the clone was dead, but he caught the faint rise and fall of the chest. Horrified, fascinated, he leaned closer, and bumped his arm against a pipe jutting off one of the caskets. His stealth mode deactivated, but he was too distracted to notice. Especially when the clone opened it's eyes, revealing mismatched irises; one bright green, the other steady blue. They were groggy for a brief moment, then focused on him, sharpened into an awareness that shook the super agent to his core. There was intelligence there. The odd eyes registered fear initially, then curiosity, and finally understanding. One of the clone's hands moved, touching the thick glass trapping him, a plea in the mismatched eyes. Freaked out, unsure what to do, Max backed away from the container, hurried towards the door. So focused was he on his racing thoughts, he nearly ran into one of the scientists.
"Hey. How did you get out?" the man started to scold, then paused, studying the super agent. "You're not one of ours. None of them have a pair of blue eyes," he observed.
"That's right, I'm not one of yours. I'm here to shut down your little freak show," Max replied, then pounced, knocking the scientist to the ground, and into unconsciousness.
Quick though he might have been, Max hadn't been in a secluded area when he dispatched the man. A shout to his side drew the super agent's attention, and he looked over to see three of the guards heading his way. He's no sooner gotten to his feet, when an alarm began to blare. Doors on the far walls shot open, and easily a couple dozen more guards raced in, weapons at the ready. Max found himself surrounded in short order, but he wasn't inclined to go down without a fight.
"Which one is this?" one guard demanded. There were murmurs of confusion from several others. Despite the situation, Max felt a grin stretch his lips.
"Three guesses," he taunted, then feinted left, and dove to the right, shoving a guard into two of his fellows, sending all three to the ground. He back flipped out of the path of a laser shot, landed in a crouch, and swept the feet out from under a few more guards.
"He's not part of the project! That's the original!" one of the men exclaimed. Max dodged a fist, slid back to avoid an impressive roundhouse from a guard.
"Gold star for you," he grinned, then yelped as a laser blast glanced off his shoulder. He ducked and body-checked another guard, trying to make his way towards the door he'd come in through. Max heard a crackle to his side, and grumbled under his breath before dodging a shock staff. He executed a neat flip over one of the guards, then slammed a kick into the man's back, intending on using him to take out the guard wielding the shock staff. He overpowered the kick. The guard with the staff went flying, and smashed into the computer console. His body's impact did some intensive damage to the piece of equipment; the still active shock staff slipping from his fingers and landing against a circuit board did the rest, frying chips and setting off tiny explosions across the console's surface. There was a mechanical clunk, and a watery sucking noise. Max and the remaining guards turned to see the suspension fluid draining out of the tubes holding the clones. The cases popped open a moment later, and the clones, now fully alert, dropped to the ground. There was a long moment of stunned silence they removed their air masks, dropping them with dull clatters. Max's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, watching dozens of bright green eyes survey their surroundings.
One of the clones swiveled his head, locking his gaze on a guard. A terrible smile crossed his face, and with an audible growl, he lunged. The petrified man had no chance. He was smashed into one of the cases, the clone's hand embedded in his throat. From halfway across the room, Max's enhanced hearing picked up the death gurgle, a noise he was sure he'd be hearing in his sleep for a long time after this. The action broke the trance that seemed to have fallen over the room. The clones and the guards went for each other in a concentrated frenzy. Max watched, frozen with horror, as another guard went down under a clone, the green-eyed replica slamming the man to the ground, and breaking his neck with an audible snap. There was none of the pulling of punches Max was careful to exert; these things with his face were aiming to kill. He heard a cry of pain, looked over to see two guards subduing one of the clones with repeated blasts from their laser rifles. There were crashes and the shattering of glass; several of the containment tubes were uprooted in the chaos. One clone hefted a tube, heaved it at a trio of guards; he caught one, crushing him. A guard grabbed a large chunk of glass, rammed it through the back of a clone's neck, killing him in a spray of blood. Max dodged a guard, but was at a loss for what to do. The reckless violence baffled him; he'd always been trained to subdue, not murder. This was clearly not the case for the clones; he watched one of them grab another clone in a choke hold, and ram a jagged piece of metal into his fellow's belly. The sight distracted Max so much, he didn't see the kick coming. He grunted with surprised pain as he stumbled back, the side of his face throbbing. He looked up quickly, and managed to dodge the next strike by the clone, who then snagged a broken pipe, tapping it on his palm.
"Why?" was the only thing Max could manage to voice. Why all the violence? Is it something that was done to them, or is it something buried in me? The questions burned in his mind, but he was afraid of the answer. The clone chuckled.
"Why what? They wipe your memory bank or something?" he taunted.
"I mean, shouldn't... we... be sticking together?" Max fumbled, gesturing vaguely to the other clones, feeling thoroughly weirded out at the thought of being one himself. A mocking scoff of laughter was his response.
"Stick together? They did wipe you. We can't trust each other any further than we can throw each other," the clone growled, and lunged. Max dodged the swipe aimed for his chest, but took a hard hit to the side. He shot his arm up, deflecting the pipe, then followed up with a kick, shoving the clone back a pace. He used the brief pause to cast a quick look around. In a quick move, he jumped up onto one of the containment tubes, and vaulted off, putting a large gap between himself and the clone, and bolted. The being snarled something unintelligible as he pursued. Max glanced back, checking the distance between himself and the clone. When he turned his head back around, the super agent pulled up short, seeing a guard straight ahead, taking aim at him. He dropped to a crouch as the man fired, and the beam caught the pursuing clone square in the eye. The being howled, staggered, one hand clutched to the injury. Another shot from the guard, this one connecting with Max's gut, had the super agent jerking out of his shock, and back to awareness.
A thought occurred to Max's horror-stuck mind. Kat. By this point, she would be making a sincere effort to break in the door and come to his aid. He moved to hurry to the door, to make sure she didn't mistake one of the more violent clones for him. Something hit him in the legs, tripping him and sending him sprawling on the blood-slicked floor. He looked to see what he'd tripped on, and fought the urge to wretch. A human arm, messily torn from it's socket. He kicked it away, scrambled to his feet, side-stepped to avoid a flying body, and flung up an arm to block a kick thrown his way by one of the clones. The shock radiated down his arm, but he followed through, shoving the other being back, punctuating it with a hard kick that had the clone stumbling back. While it was recovering, Max darted away. He wanted to go turbo, give himself an edge against these things, but something told him that drawing anymore undue attention to himself could be fatal.
He was almost to the door, when the guard's cavalry arrived. These men sported actual guns instead of lasers, and there was the sharp report of gunfire. Several of the clones went down immediately, grabbing at their chest or throat. A number of the rest of them went for the well-armed guards. Despite their artillery advantage, the men still weren't faster than their opponents, and several guards went down when the clones engaged them. Max turned his attention back to the door, started when a clone landed in his path, a slow, not anywhere near sane grin covering the replica's face.
"Don't want a little payback?" it questioned, cocking it's head at a wounded guard laying nearby. Max backed up a step, shaking his head.
"I'm not part of this. This isn't... me," he managed. The clone chuckled, a bit too gleefully.
"Only the strong live. You're weak, you get the term box," it stated, then crouched a little, clearly intending to go for the wounded guard. Max shifted, prepared to engage the clone. Dread guard or not, he couldn't just step back and watch the slaughter. He didn't get a chance. A stray bullet shot across the room, catching the clone square in the right eye. The super agent watched in horror as the body was flung back, landing in a haphazard sprawl, it's right eye a cup of blood.
The door he'd come through exploded then, forcing Max to hit the deck, hands cupped over the back of his neck. Several cries indicated that a few weren't so lucky to evade the shrapnel. There was a thump of boots near his head.
"What the HELL?" Kat's astonished exclamation almost made Max laugh, despite the situation. He got quickly to his feet.
"Guess we know what Dread's been up to," he commented, ridiculously comforted by his partner's appearance. Cocky and competitive she might be, but she was also a little piece of sanity amidst the rampaging insanity he'd endured.
"I'll say. Let's get out of here, warn the others. You're probably more freaked out than I am," Kat replied, surveying the bloodbath around them. Her gaze fixed on Max's bloodied and torn uniform.
"You got that right. And I'm fine. Just a few bruises. I was lucky," he added, gaze wandering to several of the dead clones. Kat reached to touch his arm, offer some sort of comfort, but before she could complete the motion, one of the clones tackled her. They went down in a tangle, the female agent ramming her knee into his groin before he could get a grip on her throat. It didn't drop the replica, but it did stun, long enough for Max to throw him off. With a grace that would make her namesake proud, Kat flipped back to her feet, this time keeping in a ready stance.
"I can't begin to tell you how weird that was," she commented to the super agent, who slid into position beside her. He grimaced.
"I hear ya. Let's go," he replied, backing towards the blown out door, Kat close by. They heard a shout, and the pair of N-Tek agents looked over to see one of the clones kick a guard into one of the containment tubes, then rip the tube out of it's base, and heave it in their direction. Max tackled his partner, tumbling them both out of range and shielding her body with his as the thing hit. The tube slammed into the door with a crash, and the pair found their way blocked by jagged glass, torn metal, and the mutilated body impaled on some of the larger pieces.
"Oh, dammit..." Kat muttered, with some sympathy. Max winced at the carnage, then turned his attention to finding an alternate route out. He tugged the female agent's arm.
"There's a door on the east wall some of the guards came through. I think that's our best chance," he told her. Kat nodded, then sprang back, narrowly missing the guard thrown in her path. The man, overwhelmed by the mayhem, brought his gun up to bear, heedless of the fact that Kat really bore no resemblance to the clones. She kicked the barrel of the gun just as he pulled the trigger, sending a spray of bullets into the ceiling, taking out a couple of lights. Another well-placed sweep of her foot downed him, and she jumped over his unconscious body, landing beside Max. They took off for the exit, hugging the wall, trying not to be noticed.
The ploy worked, until Max happened to glance over at the main computer console. One of the clones, a jagged piece of metal protruding from his side, was leaning heavily on the desk, typing furiously on one of the undamaged keyboards. The few active screens left blinked red, flashing the words "Self-destruct". On an oath, Max broke away from Kat, and rushed the clone, whose hand was reaching for the blinking activation button. He caught the man by the shoulders, spinning him around and slapping him up against the console. The clone regarded him with too bright green eyes.
"Death is the only escape," it intoned flatly, then rammed a knee into Max's gut. When the super agent doubled over, the clone twisted and slapped a hand down on the button, then slid down the console, eyes fading to a muddy, dead green. Alarms blared, and a computerized voice announced that self-destruct would engage in 20 seconds, eliciting cries of dismay from the guards, and even a few of the clones. Max forced himself up, bolted back towards Kat. The computerized voice droned out the countdown as the pair fought their way towards the door, through which several less injured guards had already hurried. They were almost there, when a startled cry erupted from Kat as a clone tackled her.
"KAT!" Max yelled, turning to pursue. The reckless, impulsive move likely saved his life. He moved straight into the path of a clone's kick. It sent him tumbling to slap against the wall next to the door he had Kat had been heading for. There was a shrill squawk from the console, and the world vanished in a searing flash of light.
Rachel had been kneeling up at the look-out point, determinedly ignoring the clutch in her belly, she had given them an hour, after all, when the back side of the building exploded. She was on her feet without registering the move, hand clapped to the engage button on her headset.
"Berto! Where are Max and Kat?" she demanded, doing her level best to keep her tone even, when ice was streaking it's way through her belly. The three seconds of silence took an eternity to pass by.
"The explosion took out their comm blocker," the younger man announced, tone steady, the staccato clack of keys underling his voice. "Tracers are back on-line. They're both outside the building, same side as the explosion. Max's vitals are... not great, but stable. No response from either, yet. Marshak and I were already en route, with Behemoth. We'll be touching down in half an hour," Berto finished. Rachel voiced her acknowledgment, then switched frequencies to give orders to the standby group near the base, and to the agents with her. Moments later, the clutch of agents hurried down from their vantage point, and towards the wreckage.
The two groups met up, moved around the building to the blast site. Despite years of being an agent, Rachel still blanched at the view that greeted them. Most explosions she saw weren't littered with bodies. She heard one of the agents behind her smother a gagging cough, ignored it in favor of beginning to pick through the wreckage for survivors. Unsurprisingly, closest to the building, there were none, the bodies burned beyond recognition. She frowned as they spread out further, the vague thought niggling in her mind that some of the bodies seemed too mangled, even accounting for the explosion. There were Dread guards, easily recognized, despite their somewhat melted armor. And then Rachel spotted a familiar brown-topped head, the rest of the body pinned under a chunk of broken wall.
"Max!" it was out before she could think, and she was scrambling across the rubble, dropping down next to her partner, dimly aware of hands helping to shove the slab off the trapped figure.
"Now's not the time to be..." she started to scold, gently turning the body over. And felt every rational thought leave her mind as she stared down at the dead, clouded eyes in Max Steel's face.
One of the other agents stepped up next to her; she heard the man's vicious, sympathetic curse, but dimly, as if she were underwater. She shifted her grip, cradling the body's head against her chest; bringing a hand up to brush the short bangs out of his face.
"Max... Berto, I thought you said his vitals were-" she strained for composure, even as tears slipped from her eyes.
"He's not dead. You're still at least 100 feet from his location," Berto interrupted sharply, his tone a slap. She shook her head, let herself glance down at the left arm of the body to make sure it was attached. It was, and there was no bio-link As despair receded, and hope managed to get a foot hold again, she realized the figure was not wearing Max's uniform, and the dead eyes were, in fact, green instead of blue. Disturbed, she laid the body back down, got to her feet.
"Berto, this man looks just like Max, save the eye color. You don't suppose..." she trailed off.
"Dread's been obsessed with Max for years. If he'd had the chance to clone him, he'd have gone for it. Imagine having a whole army of Max Steels. You'd take over the world in a day," Berto confirmed. Rachel shivered at the thought. A shout drew her attention, and she hurried over as another agent unearthed a body, flipping it over to reveal another Max clone. Despite knowing that it wasn't him, Rachel couldn't help the clutch in her belly, seeing the bullet wound in the clone's head.
"What happened in there? Were they executing them, and Max and Kat walked in? Why?" she wondered.
"We won't know until we find Max and Kat," Berto pointed out. Rachel nodded, and steeled herself against what promised to be several month's worth of nightmares, at least.
She wasn't disappointed. They found the bodies of easily another 20 clones, and parts of a good dozen more. There were an equal, possibly greater, number of Dread guards mixed in, and Rachel's heart stumbled unsteadily, as it sunk in that they had yet to find any survivors.
"Anything from Max or Kat?" Rachel questioned, for what had to be the tenth time in the last half hour.
"Nothing. But I still have vitals on Max. No visual," the Hispanic agent confirmed.
A weak groan over his earpiece startled Berto, and he touched a finger to the device, wondering if he'd imagined it.
"Max? Kat?" he queried.
"Present and accounted for," was Kat's weak reply. Berto heaved a decided sigh of relief.
"Good to hear your voice. Are you injured?" he questioned, knowing the comm line was open, and that Rachel had heard.
"I feel like I've been hit with a ton of bricks, but other than that... oh, shit," Kat uttered with heartfelt horror. Berto and Rachel froze in terrified anticipation. There was only silence.
"What is it, Kat?" Rachel pressed after a moment. A heavy sigh was Kat's response.
"I thought for a second Max had shielded me... um, oh, yeah. Clones. Look like Max. Way creepy. I'm pinned under one of them, and we're under... some roofing, I think. And this guy's dead. Like, way dead. I can't move him," she replied finally.
"On our way," Rachel assured her.
Kat figured that she'd been in worse situations. It seemed like there always was one. But at the moment, being trapped under a chunk of roofing, pinned under the dead weight, literally, of a guy who looked exactly like the partner she'd developed a soft spot for, and with what she really hoped was just a sprained ankle, was topping her list. She gave another experimental shove at the slab, grumbled when it still didn't budge. Firmly kept her gaze to the side so that she wouldn't have to look into lifeless green eyes, and tried to convince herself that the last couple hours hadn't happened. And told the little part of her brain that was wondering just how bomb-proof Max really was to shut up. It would have been easier if she didn't have the dead clone on top of her.
"Hey, Berto. Any word on Steel?" she questioned, trying to give herself something else to think about.
"Nothing. He's nearby, but still out, I guess," the younger man replied, a touch of frustration in his tone. Kat sighed.
"So what happened in there?" Berto asked after a moment. The female agent winced.
"So not what I wanted to think about... um, short version, Max and I separated, and he went into the lab solo. I heard crashes and yelling a little later, and busted down the door. I got in there, and there were all these Max clones fighting Dread guards. Real messy. Max and I were trying to get out, when the explosion happened," she summarized, as cleanly as possible. Leaving out the split-second of confused betrayal when the clone had jumped her, the jumbled mess of blood, the body parts...
"Kat?" Rachel's voice was like a godsend, just a few feet from her location. As she responded with a few shouts to pinpoint her location, Kat made a mental note to thank the woman for distracting her. There was more chatter, other agents coming over to help, and the thrice-cursed sheet of roofing was hauled off. Kat took care of shoving the dead clone off on her own, and batted off the hands that tried to help her to her feet.
"I'm fine. Just my ankle, probably from the landing," she insisted, gingerly putting weight on the joint. It grumbled, but held. Grinning faintly with relief, she turned to Rachel, nodded once.
"Let's find Wonder Boy and get out of here," she urged, trying really hard to not look at the carnage around her. Saving the world from situations where bodies ended up littering the ground was her game; seeing the after math wasn't. It left an uneasy feeling of defeat in her belly.
They'd barely made it ten steps, when Berto gave a little shout of triumph.
"Max's awake! You two should be about 20 feet from him," the Hispanic agent cheered. Kat and Rachel both snapped their heads around, looking for movement. A squeal of metal caught all the agents' attention, and everyone looked over to see a sheet of debris raise up and go flying.
"Max!" Rachel called, seeing the lone figure standing, oddly still. She hurried towards him, barely remembering to watch her footing. She pulled up short, seeing the pained look on his face, the tears in his uniform, and the unnerving sight of blood staining his uniform. His eyes were dulled with whatever had happened in the lab, but they were definitely Max's blue.
"Max..." the blonde agent spoke again, softer; at a complete loss for what to say. She touched his arm, and he jerked a little in surprise, as if he hadn't realized she was there.
"Rache..." he said bleakly. Kat arrived then, the rest of the agents on her heels. She grabbed Max's arms, checking for damage.
"Don't scare me like that again, Steel," she scolded, but with very little of her usual heat. For once in his life, Max had no smart remark, which was more worrisome than anything else.
"Come on, Max. Let's get back," Rachel urged gently, taking his arm. The younger man followed without a peep of protest. They'd made it only a few feet, before the sound of Behemoth landing caught the group's attention. The hatch in the large plane's belly was already opening even as the engine puttered off, and Berto was already hurrying down it, jumping the last couple feet before the ramp touched the ground. He was with the group in moments, giving Max his own once over.
"Let's get you patched up, hermano. You've had a rough one," Berto soothed, tidily nipping the "mother hen" role out from under Rachel's nose. Max gave a weak nod, and followed the younger agent. Kat went with them, and Rachel forced herself to remember that there were other priorities besides Max Steel, now that she knew he was alive. She turned to the remaining agents, giving orders, unable to resist casting a glance over her shoulder at Max's retreating back.
A few hours later, in one of the rooms on Behemoth, Max was trying valiantly to rest. Berto's portable generator had replenished his T-juice levels, but did little to erase the images from his mind. Row after row of tubes, a being with his face in each one. That last one, shoved carelessly in a corner, the "Marked for Termination" label neatly attached to the side. Those odd dual-colored eyes looking straight at him, in a kind of plea. The fight, the guard hitting the console; all the clones being set loose. The chaos that ensued as the engineered beings turned on their creators. The screaming. The blood. The explosions. Max jerked himself abruptly upright. Sleep would be far worse. He'd see it all over again, just like when he'd first become Max Steel, and had constant nightmares about Psycho. He decided to head for the bridge; in hopes that being around the others would distract him, for a while, at least.
Rachel was in her own room, wanting to check on Max. She'd wrestled with the idea for some time previous; he'd looked positively haunted when they'd found him, and had refused to speak to anyone about what had happened. It wasn't hard to guess why; she'd had more than her share of heart attacks, picking through the rubble, finding body after body with Max's face. When they'd finally found him, she'd wanted to gather him up then and there, soothe that lost, tormented look from his eyes. But she'd stood back, let Berto fuss over him; checking him for injuries, shooing him aboard Behemoth to get recharged. She'd watched Kat, more grim-faced than she'd ever seen her, try to offer some sort of comfort to the super agent. But Kat had seen almost as much as Max, and was clearly shaken as well. Rachel, unsure what to do, as everything she wanted to do seemed inappropriate and possibly unwanted, had gone to finish up details with the explosion site. When that was done, she'd boarded Behemoth, but had gone to write up the mission report, instead of going to see Max. But it was done now, and her thoughts drifted back to her... former partner. It wouldn't hurt to look in on him, just a quick peek, see if he needed anything. Rachel pushed up from her desk, headed for the door.
She was heading down the hall, trying to think of what to say, supposing Max was awake when she arrived. So many things she wanted to say, but she needed to focus on the now, because he'd had a horrific shock, and didn't need the complicated mess they'd made of each other shoved in his face right now. So absorbed was she in her thoughts, that she rounded a corner, and all but ran into Max's chest.
"Max," she looked up at him. Those beautiful blue eyes were still dark and shadowed. "I was just coming to see if you needed anything," she finished, averting her gaze, because the pain in his eyes made her want to gather him up, hold him and soothe away that look. He let out an explosive sigh, leaning heavily against the wall.
"Can you burn that mission out of my head?" he asked quietly. She looked at him, but his head was down, in the most defeated looking posture she'd ever seen on Max Steel.
"Max..." she started, bringing a hand up, reaching for his shoulder. But he was continuing.
"There were dozens of them, Rache. Of me. There were rooms in that hell hole that were covered in blood. They were training them to kill. He... Dread, was going to have those things running around killing, with my face. And God knows what they were doing to them... one of the clones blew the building's self-destruct. Because they'd rather be dead than be in there," there was a definite edge of hysteria in Max's voice. He shook his head, brought a hand up to cover his face. Rachel laid a hand on his shoulder, desperate to do something to help.
"Max," she said again, moved to draw him in. Damn the consequences, rules, whatever. He was still her partner, and she wouldn't stand by and watch while he broke. Before she could complete the motion, however, his head snapped up, those hot, wounded eyes burning into hers.
"I saw myself die a dozen times over tonight. I was scared out of my mind. And in the middle of that hell, I realized something," he stated, emotion trembling at the edges of his voice. Before she could speak, he moved, quick as a snake strike, capturing her wrists and trapping her body against the wall with his. His mouth was just as fast, devouring hers in a kiss that had been two years coming. She was too stunned to move for a moment; she was drowning in the torrent of emotions pouring off the younger man. Horror and fear, anger and rage, yes, but under that, there was love, and need, just as powerful. Then the tide ebbed, just a little, and she was returning the kiss with equal fervor. Pouring comfort, solace, and that same powerful love and need into the embrace. Max's hands dropped from her wrists; she twined her arms around his neck, pulling him against her, pleased when his arms came around her waist. They held that lock for what seemed an eternity, heedless of their location. A burning need for oxygen drove Rachel to finally break the kiss. They separated, panting. Her hand moved up to the back of his head, drawing it back down, resting his forehead against hers.
"I don't want to lose you again, Rache. Don't leave me," he pleaded, closing his eyes. She moved her fingers in a soothing motion through his hair.
"I'm not going anywhere," she promised. He tightened his grip, just a little.
"Not just for now. Come back to Del Oro," he added, that quiet plea still in his voice. She closed her eyes, that tone nearly undoing her.
"I have some things to finish up in Europe. A few days..."
"Swear you'll come back."
"I will, Max. I swear it," she finished, cupping her hands around his face. The corners of his mouth tugged up, just a bit, in a relieved smile.
"Thank you," he replied, kissing her again, softly this time. She smiled back, then slid her hand down his arm, tugging him towards the room he'd left.
"I'll sit with you," she offered. He went along willingly, feeling elated, despite the horror lingering in the back of his mind. But he could ignore it now, for a little while at least. Maybe things would be okay.
Continued...
Author's Note: I was actually gonna keep going on this chapter, but I decided this was a good stopping point, and 11 pages of fun seemed reasonable for a chapter length, and I wanted to see everyone's reactions. Poor Max, I really put him through the ringer on this one. I can't help it! I get going on a good fight scene, and I get all these horrible, violent images, and I just wanna keep going! And before anyone asks, no, Max and Rachel don't go back to his room and make like rabbits. Rachel's not the kind of person to take advantage of someone in such a state as Max is now. Already going on the next chapter, which will pick up pretty much right where this one leaves off. Catch ya later!
-Det
