Author's note: this is a direct continuation of Session #3. If it's been a
while since you've read it or haven't read it yet, everything will make a
lot more sense if you take the 5 minutes to read it now. Thanks.
Gryphyn
Session #4 Twilight Cadence (part II)
Max was taken back by the sight in front of him. Anders was not only a girl, but a good-looking girl. She looked like she'd been in the same clothes for about two weeks, she had no make up at all, but there was just something about her.
"Quit staring at her, you're still in deep shit," a voice said to Max. It took him a second to realize that it was his own thoughts trying to snap him back to the situation at hand.
"Corporal Anders?" Max asked, turning around and covering the hallway as best he could. He noticed his arm wasn't just numb now, but it was getting cold. He could hear the blood dripping on to the floor, sounding like a metronome keeping slow, but steady time.
"Yes sir," she said.
"I'm Major Morgan, and we're gonna get the fuck out of here," Max said and walked forward. Anders was right behind him, ready to go after being cooped up in a room for half a month Max walked down to the munitions room and motioned to it with his head. Anders ducked inside and Morgan followed her in, covering the door.
"So you're Morgan, huh?" Anders said and started grabbing pistols. She tucked two into the waste band of what looked like Special Forces BDU pants and grabbed a couple clips of ammunition. She picked up an HK and three extra clips of ammunition for it. All the while, she kept talking. "Martian Medal of Honor, 5 purple hearts, two silver stars, and two accommodations for bravery. Went AWOL in 70," she finished. Anders cocked all of her weapons and looked at Max. "How the hell did they get you to come get me?"
"Same way they do everything, bribes and lies," Max said and swung out the door, gun first. Anders followed him close, covering the stairwell with her HK. They both heard voices down below, but no Germans were on the stairs. Max reached in to his coveralls and tore off a finger sized lump of the explosive and wrapped a detonator around it after setting it to "01." He twisted the master to the same number and put it in his injured hand. He concentrated and made his fist contract around the device. "What's in here?" Max gestured to the door straight across from the stairs going down to the first floor. It had been blown in by Max's first gift for the Fourth Reich after leaving the munitions room, but it was still standing.
"Large room, goes to the end of the building. I saw it when they brought me here, but I didn't get a good look," Anders said still covering the stairs. Max knelt down by the handrail for the stairs and stuck the lump of explosive on the edge of the ceiling of the first floor. No one down there seemed to see him do it, and returned his hand with all of his fingers happily attached.
"That's our exit, transport is right outside," Max said and kicked in the cratered and heat stressed door. His HK was ready and his thumb was on the top of the control for the detonator. Max went in the room and was semi relieved to find it void of people. The room itself had a large picture window that over looked what Max hadn't realized before to be a scenic view of the heart of Rotterdam, with her steel and glass towers still gleaming through the grime of the city. A very small part of Max appreciated that, and it would return to him later; now was not the time for sight seeing or hesitation. Anders followed behind him, guarding the door and keeping a close eye on the stairs. The room itself had a large table running down the center of it, and that would be a problem.
"Major, the windows are bullet proof," Anders said calmly. Max kept striding across the room, but dropped its his gun to be supported by the sling and got another wad of the high explosive out of his pocket. He stretched it into a thin "X" on the window and pushed a detonator into it, turning it to "01."
"Corporal, I need this table moved clear of the window," Max said as he pulled another wad of explosive out of his pocket and stuck a third detonator into it, turning it also to "01." Max threw it against the wall of the stairs, and he watched it stick Anders looked at the table and sized it up. It appeared to be one long table, made of solid oak. It ran almost 50 feet, virtually the length of the room. She went to the side of the table and looked under it. Her HK came up and she pointed it at the first of the strong legs holding the table up. She opened fire and Max saw chunks of wood shoot out from under the table. Anders raked the underside, chewing the wooden legs apart. She had to reload twice, but after 25 seconds of work, the table creaked loudly over the jingling of hot brass on the floor and the table collapsed under its own weight.
"Clear," Max said loudly and crisply. Anders moved quickly to the wall of the boardroom, putting 15 feet between her and the table. Max stood against in the corner against the other wall and pushed the plunger down on the switch.
The three explosions went off simultaneously. The men down stairs were no doubt killed instantly, and if any survived there wouldn't be enough stairs left to get to the second floor. The open stairway helped channel the explosive force to the second floor and the boardroom door blew off its hinges amid a column of flame. The explosion on the window weakened it and broke most of the glass, and the flying steel door finished the job nicely as it crashed through. Anders was on the way to the window before the door even hit the street. Max joined her a split second later.
It was quite a jump to the laundry truck below the window, but both managed it nicely. They jumped off the top of the truck and piled inside with Max behind the wheel. He turned the engine over and the pitter-patter of machine gun fire sounded behind them. Max heard the box of the truck getting chewed up.
"Put your head down," Max said. Anders ducked immediately, her shoulders touching her knees.
"Limber little minx," Max thought to himself as he broke the window out with his machine gun. Max hit the gas and turned right, exposing the passenger side. The machineguns from the building fired again and Max opened up with his, sending the guards scattering. Max put the gun down and put both hands on the wheel. The feeling was rapidly leaving his left hand again, and his entire arm was becoming washed with red.
"Sit up, Anders. We're not out of this yet," Max said as the truck lumbered down the street. Max remembered the way to the Twilight exactly. First he was going to go get his ship, and then he was going to get his gun back. They arrived relatively unmolested at the hanger, and Max plowed through the security check at the entry. The guards inside the shack shouted something at Max in German and waved his fist in the air angrily. Max didn't need to know German to understand the string of profanity streaming from the guard. Max whipped the van around inside the garage in front of the Twilight and killed the engine.
"Upton said you're a pilot. I was lied to about everything else on this little trip, did he lie about that, to?" Max asked getting out of the truck. Anders jumped out.
"No sir!" Anders said energetically and jumped in the pilot's seat in of the Twilight. Max tried to hurry, but it was feeling like his feet were made of lead and as if he were swimming through the air instead of walking through it. He drug himself up into the co-pilot's seat and shut the door behind him. Anders already had the computer fired up and was turning on the engines.
"Seat belt," Anders half sung in a worried little melody. More men in blue uniforms were streaming into the garage. Anders brought the Twilight up off the ground and spun her to face the incoming enemy and opened fire with the twin vulcans. She only hit one of them, and the rest scattered. Anders flipped more switches fastened her own harness. She pulled the stirrups on the control pedals and the ship shot up through the roof of the hanger. Max felt like she left his stomach back on the ground. He loved that feeling. "Where to, sir?" she said, the craft hovering in the air over the hanger.
"Über Sauber," he said slowly. Max started taking his coveralls off and looked at his arm. The main artery hadn't been severed, but he was still losing a lot of blood. He ripped the sleeve off the suit and tied it around the wound. Max found that he was forcing himself to stay conscious as the craft moved the few blocks to the building. "Set it down in the street," Max said. Anders responded immediately, dropping the craft quickly, but pulling up just before the landing gear connected. "Make me a door," Max said. Anders fired a burst from the machineguns and the front windows of the laundromat blew inward. The bullets hit something inside the laundromat and the glass exploded back out into the street, as well as formerly clean clothes, machine parts, and even a few random workers; or what was left of them.
Max jumped out after the fire sucked back into the building. He still heard metal clanging inside, and excited shouts in German that he couldn't make out of the shop. He went in, arm bandaged, HK point ahead, with the explosive still in his coveralls and detonators clinking lightly in his pocket.
He walked in and there were a few workers tying to figure out what had happened. Most of them were missing hair or covered in suit. A few of them had clothes that had burned away in patches. Max counted 6 and possibly 7 of them moving around. He fired a short burst from the HK into the ceiling and whistled loudly. All of the workers' faces shot toward him, looks of fear and panic on them.
"Get out," Max said loudly, clearly, and slowly. Most of them ran out into the brightness of the street only to see the Twilight sitting in the street, gun barrels still smoking. They scattered like cockroaches in the sunlight and Max started moving slowly through the shattered shop.
Small fires were still burning in the front of the store, consuming what was left of the clothing and of a few random workers. He made his way to the back, keeping an eye open for any remaining in workers. He was almost back to where the lockers were and he heard the sound of clanging metal across the main stretch of the building. Max spun around and felt something land solidly on his back between his shoulders. He lurched forward but managed to keep his feet. He spun around and pulled the trigger on the HK, but the only noise was a loud click as the bolt slammed forward into the empty chamber. The big German, the first one Max spoke to in Über Sauber not even an hour ago was standing there with a chunk of pipe, smiling broadly.
"Gutten Tag, bischen Mann," the German said and took a stepped to Max. Max hit the release on his HK's sling and threw it aside. The German swung with the pipe and Max dropped to one knee before the swing connected and punched his opponent square in the solar plexus, moving him back, but not affecting him much more than that. He reacted by swinging the pipe in a low arc, still aiming at Max's head. Max threw himself backward to the floor and kicked the German solidly in the groin. Max felt a squishing crunch and the man spun around with his momentum, collapsing into the burning machine wreckage with a crunch. Max stood up and tightened his bandage. He grabbed the pipe and kept walking back to the lockers. They were locked, but badly damaged from the explosion.
Max wound up with the pipe and smashed into the door of the locker where his things had been put. The locker shuddered and the door rattled open. He saw his boots inside, and thankfully, his gun. He pulled off Otto's boots and put his own back on, lacing them quickly and strapping the armor plates into place. He grabbed his flight suit and went back out to the Twilight, checking to see if his gun was loaded. He saw brass and let the slide slam back forward. He hurried as best he could back to the Twilight. By the time he was outside, he could hear sirens over the shouting people. Max barely registered the gathering crowds as he climbed in.
"Sir?" Anders said and lifted up.
"American West, Doohan's shop," Max said slowly. He felt like he was coming out of a dream; his body felt weighed down by heavy blankets, the air was cold, and he wasn't sure if he was awake or not. The Twilight took off and headed for the setting sun. Max passed out before they lost sight of Europe and drifted into a black, dreamless sleep.
He was shaken awake what felt like seconds later. Max's hands immediately shot to where the controls should have been and tried to straighten up in his seat. He found that he'd been strapped into the passenger seat of a two-seater fighter and it took him almost a full second to remember everything that had happened.
"Anders?" Max asked as the Twilight skimmed along the desert floor. Another explosion off the port side of the ship knocked it sideways a little, and Anders was quick to correct for it. She didn't answer right away and Max looked down at the radar. There were three dots chasing them, and they looked to be about 500 meters behind them.
"Sir, there are three ships chasing us, they've been doing so since Texas. They aren't answering their radios and they aren't very good shots."
"Why aren't we at Doohan's?" Max asked, still groggy. His eyes wouldn't quite focus on anything outside of the cockpit. The ground was a blur of brown and the sky was an open field of blue.
"I didn't think that this Doohan person would much appreciate us bringing in three hostiles, sir," Anders responded. Max nodded his head. It still felt like his skull was made out of stone and he discovered he had a headache "Sir?" Anders questioned.
"Corporal?" Max asked. His senses were slowly returning to him.
"You might want to strap yourself in tighter, sir. I'm gonna shake 'em," Anders said quietly and checked the straps on her harness. Max did as she suggested and sat up. He didn't see how they were going to shake them; he could start to make out some rises and buttes, but nothing maneuver worthy. Then the whole world rose up before Max. He slammed up into his harness and his stomach felt like it was in his throat. Max could feel himself trying to pass out again, but he fought it back and kept his vision from going completely blank. The small dot of light that he could see re- expanded and he realized that they were in a canyon. It was plenty wide, but he saw that it must have been terribly curvy; it looked like Anders was speeding toward a wall.
Max's eyebrows arched and he stole a sideways glance at his pilot. Anders was biting her lower lip in concentration, moving the craft as close to the walls as she could and twisting the Twilight through the bending canyon with the touch of an expert. Max looked down t the instrument panel and saw that their relative ground speed was fluctuating between 1700 and 1720 kilometers per hour.
"Corporal, are you. . ." Max started to say. The gravity of what was going on hit Max and it snapped him back to crisp, clear reality.
"Yes sir. Shut up," Anders said. Max looked down on the display and saw that one of the dots had fallen off radar, but the other two were still on them. Max turned and looked out the back of the pod and saw that they were above them, easily keeping pace. An alarm started to beep and Max looked down at the display. "Missile" started flashing in red over the top of the radar and Anders pulled back hard on the control sticks and Max saw her twist her feet in opposite directions. They had slowed down some, but now they were up out of the canyon and flying backwards. Max was impressed that the Twilight was holding together, and even more impressed with Anders' flying. At least he wasn't lied to about that.
Anders didn't even hesitate. As soon as they were pointed at the incoming fighters, she opened up with the machine guns until the "Radar Lock" light came on over the display and she launched 2 missiles at the craft straight ahead of them. Not half a second later did that craft explode in a white ball of light and flame. Anders banked hard to port and used the drag of the Twilight to slow them down just enough for her to get a bead on the second ship and she cut it in half with the 40mm vulcans.
Max was in awe. He'd never done anything like this in recon before, not with the skill and finesse that Anders just displayed. The radar showed the third blip appear on its edge and Anders took off for it immediately. She had acquired a missile lock on the target and was prepared to fire when a panicked voice came over the radio.
"Don't shoot!" the voice pleaded. Anders looked to Max and Max shook his head no.
"Who is this? Identify yourself," Max said with a strength that he didn't even know he had.
"This is Xio Lin," the voice said, still shaking.
"Who are you working for? Black Dragons? Consortium?" Max asked. Silence answered him. "You'd better start talking. You might just live through this if you do. If you don't, you won't live to hit the desert floor," Max said with anger joining the strength in his voice. Still there was nothing. Max waited a second and started laughing. Anders looked over at him a confused look on her face.
"You have to be Black Dragon. The Consortium doesn't have power on Earth yet and if you were Red Dragons, there wouldn't have been 3 fighters, there would have been 10. Hope it's been a good life," Max said and flipped the radio off. Max pushed the thumb switch for the missile himself. Max watched as the twin trails of smoke shot out from the Twilight. A few seconds later there was an explosion a little over 4 kilometers from them; Max simply shook his head.
"We need to get to Doohan's place," Max said.
"Where is he located, sir?" Anders asked obediently.
"An old airfield in New Mexico. We can't be far from there now," Max answered and turned the radio on. He turned it to 300.780 and cleared his voice. "Miles, Doohan, anyone there?"
"Yeah, Miles here, what do you want?" sounded a familiar voice to Max's ears.
"Miles, it's Morgan. I'm in a pretty big hurt and I need some emergency work. If you got the time I got the cash," Max said.
"Morgan, eh? Yeah, I can see what I can do. The old man's at the coast picking up a delivery," Miles said back. The sound of ice clinking in a glass could be heard through the radio.
"I really appreciate it, Miles. We'll be there in about 5 minutes. Morgan, out," Max said and switched off the radio. Max punched the coordinates into the navigation system and leaned back. His arm started throbbing painfully. The harness was uncomfortable and he unbuckled it. After slouching in his seat, Max closed both his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the speed as they cruised above the desert. "That was some superior flying back there, Corporal Anders."
"Thank you, sir," Anders said proudly.
"You don't have to call me 'sir,' Anders," Max said, opening one eye and rolling it over to look at her. "I left the military a long time ago and left all that behind me." Anders nodded.
"Why did you leave?" she asked after a long pause. Max found himself suddenly wanting a cigarette. He licked his lips only to find that his mouth had gone dry and he forced himself to salivate.
"I left the military because I was tired of being used. You're a tool, Corporal. You let yourself be marginalized and you let yourself be used because someone with more brass on their lapel or a bigger patch on their shoulder says you have to," Max said, closing his eye again. "It's all bullshit, and it's all for nothing," he added with a sigh.
"Hey! I am proud to be here! Nothing pleases me more than to serve my government!" she said loudly. Max could hear her shift in her seat to face him, but he kept his eyes closed and took a deep breath.
"I'm proud of the ends, but not the means of my missions," Max said plainly. He was starting to fall asleep again. "Achieving the goals that we did violated almost everything that I hold sacred and made me a worse human being."
"But your missions," Anders started. She paused for a second. "Because of you, the Syndicate didn't get itself established on Titan. Because of you the Syndicate wasn't able to reform at any where near its former power."
"Because of me, we might have just started a war with part of Earth. Because of me, we don't have one major Syndicate to take care of; we have three," Max said softly. "Because of me," he started again and stopped. "Because of you," his voice said inside his head, "your family and everyone you cared about is dead." Max sighed deeply and shut his eyes tighter. "Because of me, people have died. Lots of people died, as a matter of fact, and not all of them were bad."
"But. . ." began Anders. Max's eyes flashed open and he turned his head.
"But what! I bled and fought and nearly died for my government so many times that I can't remember them all anymore, and after all of that, what did I get? A pat on the head and I was told that nothing I would ever do from that point forward would ever be official again! Not even my death! My government disavowed my existence and used me as a tool to get its own schemes going and to keep them going. And let me tell you something, missy; if you think you're any different than me, you're dead wrong. You're a fucking tool. All you are is another cog in the machine. Your government didn't care about you so much that they sent me to come get you and it's been a trap every step of the way. As a matter of fact, the only reason I have to trust that you are who I was told you are is because you didn't kill me when I was passed out," Max said, his face a mask of fury. Anders opened her mouth to say something and then shut it, turning her head slowly forward again, her eyes staring out the front of the pod. She looked like she was going to cry, but much to her merit, she didn't. Her lip quivered, but Max noticed not one single tear roll down her face. The two rode in silence the rest of the way to Doohan's place.
Max noted that the old man had only added to the collection of junk in his yard. More vehicles had been added, a few old tanks, and even what looked like old missiles or old space boosters. He had added quite a collection of old mono-pods, and it looked like his new collection was sitting on about 10 acres of new land.
"That's it. Land us by the small hanger with the rusting out doors," Max said quietly. They landed and Miles ran out to meet them. Max saw him as the dust settled, a handkerchief tied around his face to protect his nose and mouth from the dust and his Blue Sox cap was on backwards. He was also wearing a Blue Sox jersey, and Max couldn't tell if it was the same one from a few months ago when he was out here or if it was a new one. As always, he was wearing his cheap black-framed sunglasses.
"Hey Miles, how's your 'Sox doing?" Max asked, stepping out of the Twilight. Miles' jaw was just about hanging on the ground. Anders killed the engines and got out. She cast cross, sideways glance at Max when she came around to the other side of the ship. She stood silently, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.
"Well, you know us 'Sox fans," Max said, grinning sheepishly. His eyes kept running up and down the Twilight's hull. Max just imagined it wasn't just the lines on the ship that Miles was checking out, but those on the pilot as well.
"Same as always then," Max laughed.
"Yeah," Miles said breathlessly and ran his fingers along the hull. "So what do you want done with her? You know the old man is better with these mono-ships," Miles added and looked back at Max.
"Yeah, I know," Max said and started to pat himself down looking for some cigarettes. Then he remembered; he left them back in the locker with his spare clips. "Hey Miles, you have a, wait, no you wouldn't. Damnit. Anyway, all we need is the transponder taken out and anything else that's giving off odd radio signals. Engine's fine, she runs like a champ. We could use some more ammunition though," Max continued. He climbed up on the Twilight and grabbed his flight suit. "We need this done like it was done yesterday, Miles," Max added. He looked over to Anders. She was still pissed off, her arms folded, her head down watching her boot toes move in the dirt.
"Anders over there needs a shower, too. Got any hot water?" Max asked.
"We're in the desert! All we have is hot water!" Miles said laughing. He walked around the Twilight to the pilot seat and got in. The two Marines walked off to the main hanger, with Anders following slowly behind Max. When they were clear, Doohan's assistant fired the engine of the Twilight and lifted her off the ground. Max turned around and watched Miles move her gently into the small hanger they had parked in front of. Max continued to the hanger with Anders and showed her where the bathroom was. He managed to track down a clean towel and gave that to her before she got in. Part of Max really wanted to sneak a peek, but another part didn't want to violate her like that.
Max poured himself a cup of coffee and wandered out to the hanger. Miles had the Twilight hooked up to a diagnostic machine.
"What's the verdict, doc?" Max asked and slowly sipped his coffee.
"You have a military aircraft here that's not decommissioned. Again. Steal this one, too?" Miles asked as he read the diagnostics equipment.
"Nope, not yet. Mission is still active," Max said smiling. Miles laughed. "Blue Sox aren't playing today?"
"No, they lost the last game for the pennant. It was so close this time, too! If only they'd sent in the relief pitcher! Murphy's good, but he's getting old, he can't pitch for 9 innings straight!" Miles said emphatically. Max just shook his head and laughed slightly. "Well, I can tell you that you have an ELR transponder sending out a constant signal," Miles said, grunting as he crawled inside the Twilight. "You didn't really want that, did you Morgan?"
"Nope, can't say that I do," Max said and swallowed the last drop of coffee. There was the sound of shorting out electronics and a crunching sound, followed by a power drill whirring to life and dying in a quick cycle. Max watched a handful of screws fly out the cabin of the Twilight and then Miles backing out with the Transponder in hand. He set it down on the bench and removed the power source, setting it aside. Max smiled and listened to its faint hum go down into nothing. "So they know it's here?"
"Probably not. The sun let lose a huge solar flare a couple days ago and the magnetic storm hit Earth today at about noon and has been screwing with communications all day. There was even talk of shutting down the gate because of some concern, but the gate company said there was enough shielding," Miles said, shrugging. "This baby was it though, no more signals coming from her," Max added, slapping his hand down on the transponder.
"Ammo and gas?" Max asked, leaning against the starboard side Vulcan cannon.
"Yeah, yeah," Miles said smiling and unlocked the ammunition magazines. He gave a low whistle. "40mm penetrators! The old man's gonna hate me if I don't charge you for these things. You ever see what happens to a ship when they get shot with these?" he asked excitedly. Max's mind immediately went back to the Syndicate ship he saw a couple weeks ago. That thing had been shredded by 40mm penetrators, and Max suddenly had a very bad feeling that gave him a very unhappy outlook on the future.
"Miles, was this transponder sending out a coded frequency?" Max asked cautiously. Miles shrugged and plugged the power source back into it. The transponder powered back up and Miles went to the diagnostic equipment and turned some knobs and flipped some toggle switches. The diagnostic computer started to beep slowly but rhythmically. Max's eyes got wide. "Shut it off!"
Miles jumped to it and pulled the power source. The slow beep died faster than the transponder's gentle hum.
"Communication wasn't cut off on the planet, was it. Just off planet."
"Right," Miles said. "The atmosphere protected almost anything Earth based."
"Miles, we have to get this thing out of here right now. Have anything disposable that can fly fast and far by itself?" Max said, grabbing the transponder and the power source.
"Nothing that's cheap," Miles said and pointed to the main hanger. Max took off running for it and Miles followed suit.
"Hook this thing up, and gas something up that'll make it into the gate. Whatever we use it needs to have an accident in hyperspace," Max said looking around the shop. There were half a dozen things that would probably work, it was just a question of what Doohan wouldn't steak Miles down in the middle of the desert for blowing up. Max saw an old police cruiser in the back. "What about that?" he asked pointing to it. Miles nodded and they ran over to it.
"I'll plug in the transponder, you get this thing programmed," Miles said. They both crammed into the cruiser's mono-pod and Max powered it up and moved it out of the shop. He set it down again and Miles jumped out. "You're all set, Morgan!" he yelled and backed off toward the main hanger. Max punched in the coordinates for the gate and programmed it to have a thruster "malfunction" 15 minutes into hyper space and veer to port, effectively turning it into a quantum anomaly that would be traveling forever between hyperspace and normal space. When that was set, Max turned on the sirens and the flashers and jumped out, shutting the pod door on the way off the cruiser. He got himself clear of the craft as it thrusted up and out of the atmosphere. If it were night, Max would be able to see it almost the entire way to the gate. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief.
"There's still a chance someone will come looking for me," Max said after a few seconds. Miles nodded and they walked back to the small hanger with the Twilight in it.
"I'll be sure to tell Doohan," Miles said. "He might be getting old, but the old man can still throw someone a beating like you wouldn't believe." They both laughed about the thought of watching the old Irishman working over a couple of Syndicate members. Max was somehow certain that his vision wasn't too far from the truth of the matter, if it ever came down to it. For being almost 70, Doohan was one of the toughest men that Max had the pleasure of knowing.
After reloading the magazines on the Twilight and refueling her tank, the two men walked back to the main hanger where they found Anders asleep on the couch outside of Doohan's office. Max took a second to look at the image of beauty before him.
The Corporal's tall, lean Martian body was draped gracefully over the couch, her head snuggled against one arm rest, one foot resting on top of the other arm rest, one foot tucked between her and the back of the couch. Her face was cradled in her arms, her medium length light brown hair was draped over her arms, but her small ear was sticking through the curtain of silk She hadn't put her clothes back on, but instead she had found Max's flight suit and put it on. Max, in all his life, had never seen a flight suit look so good. Her body wasn't exactly hour glass, but she had shapely hips, a small and trim waist and then her body flowed up to her bosom. It seemed that her legs stopped at about her neck. Max was staring for he didn't know how long. He was brought out of it by Miles pushing him a little; Max was so taken in by Anders' body that he had to catch himself from falling over. Max stood straight back up with a sheepish grin on his face. He was sure he was blushing slightly. Miles just laughed softly and they walked quietly back into the office.
"Now, for the cost of the cruiser, I'm gonna need 10. Ammunition for that thing isn't easy to come by and she needed a pretty good amount of fuel, so we'll charge you 1 for that. 11 mil is your total today, kind sir," Miles said softly. Max nodded and they set up the transaction. It was processed within seconds and both men shook hands.
"A pleasure as always," Max said smiling. Miles smiled back. "We gotta get going," Max added. They walked out of the door and Max stood several feet from the couch. Miles walked out of the hanger. "Corporal Anders," Max said clearly. Anders snapped to attention and was almost standing before she knew what was going on. Her brain caught up with her body and she looked at Max.
"Morgan," she said, the word rolling out of her mouth like poison.
"We need to be somewhere else," Max said and started walking out the door. Anders caught up to him and they headed to the small hanger.
"I don't care where you're going, I just want to go home," she said, the spite still thick in her voice. Max stopped in his tracks and looked that the Twilight gleaming under the lights of the hanger. A smile crossed his lips and his eyes clouded over in nostalgia.
"Home," he said softly and the two of them walked to Max's ship.
Gryphyn
Session #4 Twilight Cadence (part II)
Max was taken back by the sight in front of him. Anders was not only a girl, but a good-looking girl. She looked like she'd been in the same clothes for about two weeks, she had no make up at all, but there was just something about her.
"Quit staring at her, you're still in deep shit," a voice said to Max. It took him a second to realize that it was his own thoughts trying to snap him back to the situation at hand.
"Corporal Anders?" Max asked, turning around and covering the hallway as best he could. He noticed his arm wasn't just numb now, but it was getting cold. He could hear the blood dripping on to the floor, sounding like a metronome keeping slow, but steady time.
"Yes sir," she said.
"I'm Major Morgan, and we're gonna get the fuck out of here," Max said and walked forward. Anders was right behind him, ready to go after being cooped up in a room for half a month Max walked down to the munitions room and motioned to it with his head. Anders ducked inside and Morgan followed her in, covering the door.
"So you're Morgan, huh?" Anders said and started grabbing pistols. She tucked two into the waste band of what looked like Special Forces BDU pants and grabbed a couple clips of ammunition. She picked up an HK and three extra clips of ammunition for it. All the while, she kept talking. "Martian Medal of Honor, 5 purple hearts, two silver stars, and two accommodations for bravery. Went AWOL in 70," she finished. Anders cocked all of her weapons and looked at Max. "How the hell did they get you to come get me?"
"Same way they do everything, bribes and lies," Max said and swung out the door, gun first. Anders followed him close, covering the stairwell with her HK. They both heard voices down below, but no Germans were on the stairs. Max reached in to his coveralls and tore off a finger sized lump of the explosive and wrapped a detonator around it after setting it to "01." He twisted the master to the same number and put it in his injured hand. He concentrated and made his fist contract around the device. "What's in here?" Max gestured to the door straight across from the stairs going down to the first floor. It had been blown in by Max's first gift for the Fourth Reich after leaving the munitions room, but it was still standing.
"Large room, goes to the end of the building. I saw it when they brought me here, but I didn't get a good look," Anders said still covering the stairs. Max knelt down by the handrail for the stairs and stuck the lump of explosive on the edge of the ceiling of the first floor. No one down there seemed to see him do it, and returned his hand with all of his fingers happily attached.
"That's our exit, transport is right outside," Max said and kicked in the cratered and heat stressed door. His HK was ready and his thumb was on the top of the control for the detonator. Max went in the room and was semi relieved to find it void of people. The room itself had a large picture window that over looked what Max hadn't realized before to be a scenic view of the heart of Rotterdam, with her steel and glass towers still gleaming through the grime of the city. A very small part of Max appreciated that, and it would return to him later; now was not the time for sight seeing or hesitation. Anders followed behind him, guarding the door and keeping a close eye on the stairs. The room itself had a large table running down the center of it, and that would be a problem.
"Major, the windows are bullet proof," Anders said calmly. Max kept striding across the room, but dropped its his gun to be supported by the sling and got another wad of the high explosive out of his pocket. He stretched it into a thin "X" on the window and pushed a detonator into it, turning it to "01."
"Corporal, I need this table moved clear of the window," Max said as he pulled another wad of explosive out of his pocket and stuck a third detonator into it, turning it also to "01." Max threw it against the wall of the stairs, and he watched it stick Anders looked at the table and sized it up. It appeared to be one long table, made of solid oak. It ran almost 50 feet, virtually the length of the room. She went to the side of the table and looked under it. Her HK came up and she pointed it at the first of the strong legs holding the table up. She opened fire and Max saw chunks of wood shoot out from under the table. Anders raked the underside, chewing the wooden legs apart. She had to reload twice, but after 25 seconds of work, the table creaked loudly over the jingling of hot brass on the floor and the table collapsed under its own weight.
"Clear," Max said loudly and crisply. Anders moved quickly to the wall of the boardroom, putting 15 feet between her and the table. Max stood against in the corner against the other wall and pushed the plunger down on the switch.
The three explosions went off simultaneously. The men down stairs were no doubt killed instantly, and if any survived there wouldn't be enough stairs left to get to the second floor. The open stairway helped channel the explosive force to the second floor and the boardroom door blew off its hinges amid a column of flame. The explosion on the window weakened it and broke most of the glass, and the flying steel door finished the job nicely as it crashed through. Anders was on the way to the window before the door even hit the street. Max joined her a split second later.
It was quite a jump to the laundry truck below the window, but both managed it nicely. They jumped off the top of the truck and piled inside with Max behind the wheel. He turned the engine over and the pitter-patter of machine gun fire sounded behind them. Max heard the box of the truck getting chewed up.
"Put your head down," Max said. Anders ducked immediately, her shoulders touching her knees.
"Limber little minx," Max thought to himself as he broke the window out with his machine gun. Max hit the gas and turned right, exposing the passenger side. The machineguns from the building fired again and Max opened up with his, sending the guards scattering. Max put the gun down and put both hands on the wheel. The feeling was rapidly leaving his left hand again, and his entire arm was becoming washed with red.
"Sit up, Anders. We're not out of this yet," Max said as the truck lumbered down the street. Max remembered the way to the Twilight exactly. First he was going to go get his ship, and then he was going to get his gun back. They arrived relatively unmolested at the hanger, and Max plowed through the security check at the entry. The guards inside the shack shouted something at Max in German and waved his fist in the air angrily. Max didn't need to know German to understand the string of profanity streaming from the guard. Max whipped the van around inside the garage in front of the Twilight and killed the engine.
"Upton said you're a pilot. I was lied to about everything else on this little trip, did he lie about that, to?" Max asked getting out of the truck. Anders jumped out.
"No sir!" Anders said energetically and jumped in the pilot's seat in of the Twilight. Max tried to hurry, but it was feeling like his feet were made of lead and as if he were swimming through the air instead of walking through it. He drug himself up into the co-pilot's seat and shut the door behind him. Anders already had the computer fired up and was turning on the engines.
"Seat belt," Anders half sung in a worried little melody. More men in blue uniforms were streaming into the garage. Anders brought the Twilight up off the ground and spun her to face the incoming enemy and opened fire with the twin vulcans. She only hit one of them, and the rest scattered. Anders flipped more switches fastened her own harness. She pulled the stirrups on the control pedals and the ship shot up through the roof of the hanger. Max felt like she left his stomach back on the ground. He loved that feeling. "Where to, sir?" she said, the craft hovering in the air over the hanger.
"Über Sauber," he said slowly. Max started taking his coveralls off and looked at his arm. The main artery hadn't been severed, but he was still losing a lot of blood. He ripped the sleeve off the suit and tied it around the wound. Max found that he was forcing himself to stay conscious as the craft moved the few blocks to the building. "Set it down in the street," Max said. Anders responded immediately, dropping the craft quickly, but pulling up just before the landing gear connected. "Make me a door," Max said. Anders fired a burst from the machineguns and the front windows of the laundromat blew inward. The bullets hit something inside the laundromat and the glass exploded back out into the street, as well as formerly clean clothes, machine parts, and even a few random workers; or what was left of them.
Max jumped out after the fire sucked back into the building. He still heard metal clanging inside, and excited shouts in German that he couldn't make out of the shop. He went in, arm bandaged, HK point ahead, with the explosive still in his coveralls and detonators clinking lightly in his pocket.
He walked in and there were a few workers tying to figure out what had happened. Most of them were missing hair or covered in suit. A few of them had clothes that had burned away in patches. Max counted 6 and possibly 7 of them moving around. He fired a short burst from the HK into the ceiling and whistled loudly. All of the workers' faces shot toward him, looks of fear and panic on them.
"Get out," Max said loudly, clearly, and slowly. Most of them ran out into the brightness of the street only to see the Twilight sitting in the street, gun barrels still smoking. They scattered like cockroaches in the sunlight and Max started moving slowly through the shattered shop.
Small fires were still burning in the front of the store, consuming what was left of the clothing and of a few random workers. He made his way to the back, keeping an eye open for any remaining in workers. He was almost back to where the lockers were and he heard the sound of clanging metal across the main stretch of the building. Max spun around and felt something land solidly on his back between his shoulders. He lurched forward but managed to keep his feet. He spun around and pulled the trigger on the HK, but the only noise was a loud click as the bolt slammed forward into the empty chamber. The big German, the first one Max spoke to in Über Sauber not even an hour ago was standing there with a chunk of pipe, smiling broadly.
"Gutten Tag, bischen Mann," the German said and took a stepped to Max. Max hit the release on his HK's sling and threw it aside. The German swung with the pipe and Max dropped to one knee before the swing connected and punched his opponent square in the solar plexus, moving him back, but not affecting him much more than that. He reacted by swinging the pipe in a low arc, still aiming at Max's head. Max threw himself backward to the floor and kicked the German solidly in the groin. Max felt a squishing crunch and the man spun around with his momentum, collapsing into the burning machine wreckage with a crunch. Max stood up and tightened his bandage. He grabbed the pipe and kept walking back to the lockers. They were locked, but badly damaged from the explosion.
Max wound up with the pipe and smashed into the door of the locker where his things had been put. The locker shuddered and the door rattled open. He saw his boots inside, and thankfully, his gun. He pulled off Otto's boots and put his own back on, lacing them quickly and strapping the armor plates into place. He grabbed his flight suit and went back out to the Twilight, checking to see if his gun was loaded. He saw brass and let the slide slam back forward. He hurried as best he could back to the Twilight. By the time he was outside, he could hear sirens over the shouting people. Max barely registered the gathering crowds as he climbed in.
"Sir?" Anders said and lifted up.
"American West, Doohan's shop," Max said slowly. He felt like he was coming out of a dream; his body felt weighed down by heavy blankets, the air was cold, and he wasn't sure if he was awake or not. The Twilight took off and headed for the setting sun. Max passed out before they lost sight of Europe and drifted into a black, dreamless sleep.
He was shaken awake what felt like seconds later. Max's hands immediately shot to where the controls should have been and tried to straighten up in his seat. He found that he'd been strapped into the passenger seat of a two-seater fighter and it took him almost a full second to remember everything that had happened.
"Anders?" Max asked as the Twilight skimmed along the desert floor. Another explosion off the port side of the ship knocked it sideways a little, and Anders was quick to correct for it. She didn't answer right away and Max looked down at the radar. There were three dots chasing them, and they looked to be about 500 meters behind them.
"Sir, there are three ships chasing us, they've been doing so since Texas. They aren't answering their radios and they aren't very good shots."
"Why aren't we at Doohan's?" Max asked, still groggy. His eyes wouldn't quite focus on anything outside of the cockpit. The ground was a blur of brown and the sky was an open field of blue.
"I didn't think that this Doohan person would much appreciate us bringing in three hostiles, sir," Anders responded. Max nodded his head. It still felt like his skull was made out of stone and he discovered he had a headache "Sir?" Anders questioned.
"Corporal?" Max asked. His senses were slowly returning to him.
"You might want to strap yourself in tighter, sir. I'm gonna shake 'em," Anders said quietly and checked the straps on her harness. Max did as she suggested and sat up. He didn't see how they were going to shake them; he could start to make out some rises and buttes, but nothing maneuver worthy. Then the whole world rose up before Max. He slammed up into his harness and his stomach felt like it was in his throat. Max could feel himself trying to pass out again, but he fought it back and kept his vision from going completely blank. The small dot of light that he could see re- expanded and he realized that they were in a canyon. It was plenty wide, but he saw that it must have been terribly curvy; it looked like Anders was speeding toward a wall.
Max's eyebrows arched and he stole a sideways glance at his pilot. Anders was biting her lower lip in concentration, moving the craft as close to the walls as she could and twisting the Twilight through the bending canyon with the touch of an expert. Max looked down t the instrument panel and saw that their relative ground speed was fluctuating between 1700 and 1720 kilometers per hour.
"Corporal, are you. . ." Max started to say. The gravity of what was going on hit Max and it snapped him back to crisp, clear reality.
"Yes sir. Shut up," Anders said. Max looked down on the display and saw that one of the dots had fallen off radar, but the other two were still on them. Max turned and looked out the back of the pod and saw that they were above them, easily keeping pace. An alarm started to beep and Max looked down at the display. "Missile" started flashing in red over the top of the radar and Anders pulled back hard on the control sticks and Max saw her twist her feet in opposite directions. They had slowed down some, but now they were up out of the canyon and flying backwards. Max was impressed that the Twilight was holding together, and even more impressed with Anders' flying. At least he wasn't lied to about that.
Anders didn't even hesitate. As soon as they were pointed at the incoming fighters, she opened up with the machine guns until the "Radar Lock" light came on over the display and she launched 2 missiles at the craft straight ahead of them. Not half a second later did that craft explode in a white ball of light and flame. Anders banked hard to port and used the drag of the Twilight to slow them down just enough for her to get a bead on the second ship and she cut it in half with the 40mm vulcans.
Max was in awe. He'd never done anything like this in recon before, not with the skill and finesse that Anders just displayed. The radar showed the third blip appear on its edge and Anders took off for it immediately. She had acquired a missile lock on the target and was prepared to fire when a panicked voice came over the radio.
"Don't shoot!" the voice pleaded. Anders looked to Max and Max shook his head no.
"Who is this? Identify yourself," Max said with a strength that he didn't even know he had.
"This is Xio Lin," the voice said, still shaking.
"Who are you working for? Black Dragons? Consortium?" Max asked. Silence answered him. "You'd better start talking. You might just live through this if you do. If you don't, you won't live to hit the desert floor," Max said with anger joining the strength in his voice. Still there was nothing. Max waited a second and started laughing. Anders looked over at him a confused look on her face.
"You have to be Black Dragon. The Consortium doesn't have power on Earth yet and if you were Red Dragons, there wouldn't have been 3 fighters, there would have been 10. Hope it's been a good life," Max said and flipped the radio off. Max pushed the thumb switch for the missile himself. Max watched as the twin trails of smoke shot out from the Twilight. A few seconds later there was an explosion a little over 4 kilometers from them; Max simply shook his head.
"We need to get to Doohan's place," Max said.
"Where is he located, sir?" Anders asked obediently.
"An old airfield in New Mexico. We can't be far from there now," Max answered and turned the radio on. He turned it to 300.780 and cleared his voice. "Miles, Doohan, anyone there?"
"Yeah, Miles here, what do you want?" sounded a familiar voice to Max's ears.
"Miles, it's Morgan. I'm in a pretty big hurt and I need some emergency work. If you got the time I got the cash," Max said.
"Morgan, eh? Yeah, I can see what I can do. The old man's at the coast picking up a delivery," Miles said back. The sound of ice clinking in a glass could be heard through the radio.
"I really appreciate it, Miles. We'll be there in about 5 minutes. Morgan, out," Max said and switched off the radio. Max punched the coordinates into the navigation system and leaned back. His arm started throbbing painfully. The harness was uncomfortable and he unbuckled it. After slouching in his seat, Max closed both his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the speed as they cruised above the desert. "That was some superior flying back there, Corporal Anders."
"Thank you, sir," Anders said proudly.
"You don't have to call me 'sir,' Anders," Max said, opening one eye and rolling it over to look at her. "I left the military a long time ago and left all that behind me." Anders nodded.
"Why did you leave?" she asked after a long pause. Max found himself suddenly wanting a cigarette. He licked his lips only to find that his mouth had gone dry and he forced himself to salivate.
"I left the military because I was tired of being used. You're a tool, Corporal. You let yourself be marginalized and you let yourself be used because someone with more brass on their lapel or a bigger patch on their shoulder says you have to," Max said, closing his eye again. "It's all bullshit, and it's all for nothing," he added with a sigh.
"Hey! I am proud to be here! Nothing pleases me more than to serve my government!" she said loudly. Max could hear her shift in her seat to face him, but he kept his eyes closed and took a deep breath.
"I'm proud of the ends, but not the means of my missions," Max said plainly. He was starting to fall asleep again. "Achieving the goals that we did violated almost everything that I hold sacred and made me a worse human being."
"But your missions," Anders started. She paused for a second. "Because of you, the Syndicate didn't get itself established on Titan. Because of you the Syndicate wasn't able to reform at any where near its former power."
"Because of me, we might have just started a war with part of Earth. Because of me, we don't have one major Syndicate to take care of; we have three," Max said softly. "Because of me," he started again and stopped. "Because of you," his voice said inside his head, "your family and everyone you cared about is dead." Max sighed deeply and shut his eyes tighter. "Because of me, people have died. Lots of people died, as a matter of fact, and not all of them were bad."
"But. . ." began Anders. Max's eyes flashed open and he turned his head.
"But what! I bled and fought and nearly died for my government so many times that I can't remember them all anymore, and after all of that, what did I get? A pat on the head and I was told that nothing I would ever do from that point forward would ever be official again! Not even my death! My government disavowed my existence and used me as a tool to get its own schemes going and to keep them going. And let me tell you something, missy; if you think you're any different than me, you're dead wrong. You're a fucking tool. All you are is another cog in the machine. Your government didn't care about you so much that they sent me to come get you and it's been a trap every step of the way. As a matter of fact, the only reason I have to trust that you are who I was told you are is because you didn't kill me when I was passed out," Max said, his face a mask of fury. Anders opened her mouth to say something and then shut it, turning her head slowly forward again, her eyes staring out the front of the pod. She looked like she was going to cry, but much to her merit, she didn't. Her lip quivered, but Max noticed not one single tear roll down her face. The two rode in silence the rest of the way to Doohan's place.
Max noted that the old man had only added to the collection of junk in his yard. More vehicles had been added, a few old tanks, and even what looked like old missiles or old space boosters. He had added quite a collection of old mono-pods, and it looked like his new collection was sitting on about 10 acres of new land.
"That's it. Land us by the small hanger with the rusting out doors," Max said quietly. They landed and Miles ran out to meet them. Max saw him as the dust settled, a handkerchief tied around his face to protect his nose and mouth from the dust and his Blue Sox cap was on backwards. He was also wearing a Blue Sox jersey, and Max couldn't tell if it was the same one from a few months ago when he was out here or if it was a new one. As always, he was wearing his cheap black-framed sunglasses.
"Hey Miles, how's your 'Sox doing?" Max asked, stepping out of the Twilight. Miles' jaw was just about hanging on the ground. Anders killed the engines and got out. She cast cross, sideways glance at Max when she came around to the other side of the ship. She stood silently, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.
"Well, you know us 'Sox fans," Max said, grinning sheepishly. His eyes kept running up and down the Twilight's hull. Max just imagined it wasn't just the lines on the ship that Miles was checking out, but those on the pilot as well.
"Same as always then," Max laughed.
"Yeah," Miles said breathlessly and ran his fingers along the hull. "So what do you want done with her? You know the old man is better with these mono-ships," Miles added and looked back at Max.
"Yeah, I know," Max said and started to pat himself down looking for some cigarettes. Then he remembered; he left them back in the locker with his spare clips. "Hey Miles, you have a, wait, no you wouldn't. Damnit. Anyway, all we need is the transponder taken out and anything else that's giving off odd radio signals. Engine's fine, she runs like a champ. We could use some more ammunition though," Max continued. He climbed up on the Twilight and grabbed his flight suit. "We need this done like it was done yesterday, Miles," Max added. He looked over to Anders. She was still pissed off, her arms folded, her head down watching her boot toes move in the dirt.
"Anders over there needs a shower, too. Got any hot water?" Max asked.
"We're in the desert! All we have is hot water!" Miles said laughing. He walked around the Twilight to the pilot seat and got in. The two Marines walked off to the main hanger, with Anders following slowly behind Max. When they were clear, Doohan's assistant fired the engine of the Twilight and lifted her off the ground. Max turned around and watched Miles move her gently into the small hanger they had parked in front of. Max continued to the hanger with Anders and showed her where the bathroom was. He managed to track down a clean towel and gave that to her before she got in. Part of Max really wanted to sneak a peek, but another part didn't want to violate her like that.
Max poured himself a cup of coffee and wandered out to the hanger. Miles had the Twilight hooked up to a diagnostic machine.
"What's the verdict, doc?" Max asked and slowly sipped his coffee.
"You have a military aircraft here that's not decommissioned. Again. Steal this one, too?" Miles asked as he read the diagnostics equipment.
"Nope, not yet. Mission is still active," Max said smiling. Miles laughed. "Blue Sox aren't playing today?"
"No, they lost the last game for the pennant. It was so close this time, too! If only they'd sent in the relief pitcher! Murphy's good, but he's getting old, he can't pitch for 9 innings straight!" Miles said emphatically. Max just shook his head and laughed slightly. "Well, I can tell you that you have an ELR transponder sending out a constant signal," Miles said, grunting as he crawled inside the Twilight. "You didn't really want that, did you Morgan?"
"Nope, can't say that I do," Max said and swallowed the last drop of coffee. There was the sound of shorting out electronics and a crunching sound, followed by a power drill whirring to life and dying in a quick cycle. Max watched a handful of screws fly out the cabin of the Twilight and then Miles backing out with the Transponder in hand. He set it down on the bench and removed the power source, setting it aside. Max smiled and listened to its faint hum go down into nothing. "So they know it's here?"
"Probably not. The sun let lose a huge solar flare a couple days ago and the magnetic storm hit Earth today at about noon and has been screwing with communications all day. There was even talk of shutting down the gate because of some concern, but the gate company said there was enough shielding," Miles said, shrugging. "This baby was it though, no more signals coming from her," Max added, slapping his hand down on the transponder.
"Ammo and gas?" Max asked, leaning against the starboard side Vulcan cannon.
"Yeah, yeah," Miles said smiling and unlocked the ammunition magazines. He gave a low whistle. "40mm penetrators! The old man's gonna hate me if I don't charge you for these things. You ever see what happens to a ship when they get shot with these?" he asked excitedly. Max's mind immediately went back to the Syndicate ship he saw a couple weeks ago. That thing had been shredded by 40mm penetrators, and Max suddenly had a very bad feeling that gave him a very unhappy outlook on the future.
"Miles, was this transponder sending out a coded frequency?" Max asked cautiously. Miles shrugged and plugged the power source back into it. The transponder powered back up and Miles went to the diagnostic equipment and turned some knobs and flipped some toggle switches. The diagnostic computer started to beep slowly but rhythmically. Max's eyes got wide. "Shut it off!"
Miles jumped to it and pulled the power source. The slow beep died faster than the transponder's gentle hum.
"Communication wasn't cut off on the planet, was it. Just off planet."
"Right," Miles said. "The atmosphere protected almost anything Earth based."
"Miles, we have to get this thing out of here right now. Have anything disposable that can fly fast and far by itself?" Max said, grabbing the transponder and the power source.
"Nothing that's cheap," Miles said and pointed to the main hanger. Max took off running for it and Miles followed suit.
"Hook this thing up, and gas something up that'll make it into the gate. Whatever we use it needs to have an accident in hyperspace," Max said looking around the shop. There were half a dozen things that would probably work, it was just a question of what Doohan wouldn't steak Miles down in the middle of the desert for blowing up. Max saw an old police cruiser in the back. "What about that?" he asked pointing to it. Miles nodded and they ran over to it.
"I'll plug in the transponder, you get this thing programmed," Miles said. They both crammed into the cruiser's mono-pod and Max powered it up and moved it out of the shop. He set it down again and Miles jumped out. "You're all set, Morgan!" he yelled and backed off toward the main hanger. Max punched in the coordinates for the gate and programmed it to have a thruster "malfunction" 15 minutes into hyper space and veer to port, effectively turning it into a quantum anomaly that would be traveling forever between hyperspace and normal space. When that was set, Max turned on the sirens and the flashers and jumped out, shutting the pod door on the way off the cruiser. He got himself clear of the craft as it thrusted up and out of the atmosphere. If it were night, Max would be able to see it almost the entire way to the gate. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief.
"There's still a chance someone will come looking for me," Max said after a few seconds. Miles nodded and they walked back to the small hanger with the Twilight in it.
"I'll be sure to tell Doohan," Miles said. "He might be getting old, but the old man can still throw someone a beating like you wouldn't believe." They both laughed about the thought of watching the old Irishman working over a couple of Syndicate members. Max was somehow certain that his vision wasn't too far from the truth of the matter, if it ever came down to it. For being almost 70, Doohan was one of the toughest men that Max had the pleasure of knowing.
After reloading the magazines on the Twilight and refueling her tank, the two men walked back to the main hanger where they found Anders asleep on the couch outside of Doohan's office. Max took a second to look at the image of beauty before him.
The Corporal's tall, lean Martian body was draped gracefully over the couch, her head snuggled against one arm rest, one foot resting on top of the other arm rest, one foot tucked between her and the back of the couch. Her face was cradled in her arms, her medium length light brown hair was draped over her arms, but her small ear was sticking through the curtain of silk She hadn't put her clothes back on, but instead she had found Max's flight suit and put it on. Max, in all his life, had never seen a flight suit look so good. Her body wasn't exactly hour glass, but she had shapely hips, a small and trim waist and then her body flowed up to her bosom. It seemed that her legs stopped at about her neck. Max was staring for he didn't know how long. He was brought out of it by Miles pushing him a little; Max was so taken in by Anders' body that he had to catch himself from falling over. Max stood straight back up with a sheepish grin on his face. He was sure he was blushing slightly. Miles just laughed softly and they walked quietly back into the office.
"Now, for the cost of the cruiser, I'm gonna need 10. Ammunition for that thing isn't easy to come by and she needed a pretty good amount of fuel, so we'll charge you 1 for that. 11 mil is your total today, kind sir," Miles said softly. Max nodded and they set up the transaction. It was processed within seconds and both men shook hands.
"A pleasure as always," Max said smiling. Miles smiled back. "We gotta get going," Max added. They walked out of the door and Max stood several feet from the couch. Miles walked out of the hanger. "Corporal Anders," Max said clearly. Anders snapped to attention and was almost standing before she knew what was going on. Her brain caught up with her body and she looked at Max.
"Morgan," she said, the word rolling out of her mouth like poison.
"We need to be somewhere else," Max said and started walking out the door. Anders caught up to him and they headed to the small hanger.
"I don't care where you're going, I just want to go home," she said, the spite still thick in her voice. Max stopped in his tracks and looked that the Twilight gleaming under the lights of the hanger. A smile crossed his lips and his eyes clouded over in nostalgia.
"Home," he said softly and the two of them walked to Max's ship.