I'm Always Ready
Disclaimer: See the first chapter. I only swim in the world they created.
A/N: Thanks always to Kasman for the betas, as usual they keep me on track and thinking. This is the Hurricane chapter. It was pure coincidence that I started to write this on the day that Hurricane Ivan brushed Jamaica. I don't know if there are any Jamaicans or if there is a place called the Pepper Pot in Seattle, so no offence is intended here. Dark Angel allowed one of the good ones to be portrayed, a pity he disappeared. Thanks again to those who have read and those who have reviewed each and every one is greatly appreciated. For those who will need subtitles they are shown.()
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Chapter 7 A'wha A'go On.
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S1W Hideout, Seattle, Washington:
A group of four people are sitting around a table, a couple of empty pizza boxes sitting in the middle of it. "What's up with Asha?" a lanky browned haired man asks, picking his teeth.
"Yeah, she seems obsessed with this whole Terminal City, transgenic thing," the short blond girl sitting opposite him says.
"They nearly got us screwed over. In fact, I've heard the cops are now blaming us for setting them free. Maybe that's why she's interested," the tall Asian man says, looking towards the room where Asha sits watching a rerun of the hostage situation at Jam Pony.
A cellphone rings in the other room. "Hi, you got it? Thanks, I owe you."
As the others look at each other, they only hear the TV, and the brief sound of their leader's voice.
"I'm going out," Asha says suddenly appearing in the room. She pulls on her jacket as she walks past the group sitting around the table. "Stay here 'til I get back, I won't be long...you're in charge, Stephan," she adds, nodding towards the fourth person sitting at the table, a burly man wearing a sleeveless combat jacket over his shirt.
Stephan nods as he watches Asha walk out the door.
"So, where's she off to now?" the blond girl asks peevishly.
Looking over at her, Stephan leans forward and stares at the girl. She starts to look uncomfortable at his intense stare, "What Asha always does; she's gone to find out whose screwing with things," he says as a slow grin spreads across his face, "And then we get to take down some really bad guys."
The Asian guy and the lanky brown-haired man laugh loudly and high-five each other, "Yeah! Ass-kicking time for some dirt bag," they say together, as the blond girl and Stephan grin at each other.
--- --- --- --- --- ---
Terminal City Command Center:
As Max walks in, she sees Original Cindy and Sketchy standing off to one side. They're talking to Gem who is holding up CeCe for them to admire. As she walks by, she smiles at them and holds up a finger signaling one minute. Now that Logan and I are 'like that' at last, will we ever end up with a family of our own? God, what are you thinking, Max. Every time you see that baby you start down that track. Get focused here. You're about to go and meet the man who wants to put you away for a long time so you can go save your brother from the man who'd love to be dancing on your grave...and Logan's coming along. Who knows if we'll even survive tonight. Sighing, and with a thoughtful look on her face, she walks over to Dix who is standing by the table in the middle of the Command Center.
"Hey, Dix, you seen Alec?" she asks looking around, half expecting him to be relaxing in some corner of the Command Center.
"Not since this afternoon, Max...when...when he left to do his rounds," Dix answers uncomfortably.
Noticing Dix's hesitation, Max raises an eyebrow. She crosses her arms over her chest. "When this afternoon?" she asks
Looking exceedingly uncomfortable, Dix adjusts his monocle and swallows. "He left soon after he told us about you and Logan going after your brother. Mole wasn't too happy about that, nor was Joshua."
Dropping her crossed arms she mutters under her breath, "Mole again. So, what happened?" Max asks, fixing Dix with a stare as he tries to back away.
Swallowing again at Max's look, "Joshua was—"
"Dogboy was upset that you're leaving us to chase after your brother after all you said about sticking together."
Turning slowly, Max glares at Mole. The big transgenic struggles not to step back when he sees the fire burning in her eyes, "Do you know where Alec's hiding?" she eventually gets out between clenched teeth.
"Nope, haven't seen him since he left with Joshua," he replies, trying to be flippant as he puffs furiously on his cigar.
"So what's your opinion on my little mission?" Max asks tightly.
"Me? I think it's a bad idea. You're the only one who can deal with the scum out there, and Logan's the only one with the computer skills to keep us safe in here," Mole replies angrily.
"Well, this is me dealing with them, Mole. You're forgetting that White and the cult are our real enemy. Zack's only upping the ante by going after him. It's the same situation as Jam Pony. People will only remember that a transgenic killed a normal; they won't know what he's done, or the evil he stands for...We've got to get that out into the light," Max's tone becoming more determined at each sentence. Come on, Mole, think.
They look at each other for a moment, a look of skepticism on Mole's face, determination on Max's.
"And what happens if the ordinaries decide to come in here when you're gone...or if White takes you out?" Mole finally asks.
"It's not gonna happen," Max says, injecting a confidence she doesn't really feel into her voice. I hope...no, with Logan's plan we stand a good chance, I guess. She smiles grimly.
Shaking his head, Mole takes his cigar out of the corner of his mouth and flicks some ash on the floor, "Okay, Max, whatever you want to believe, but they're not taking this lizard alive without a serious fight," he replies and begins to turn away.
"Mole! I'm not finished." Max says, her voice rising higher, causing everyone in the Command Center to look openly at the two leaders standing at the table in the center of the room.
Mole stops and turns back to face the blazing anger in Max's eyes again. "You call off your search teams, Mole," she purrs in a low tone. "Where Logan and I go is none of your, or anybody's, damn business in Terminal City. Got me?" she says as she looks from Mole to Dix, and finally, around the Command Center, picking out each and every transgenic in the room, and holding them with her eyes until they look away or blink.
As Max cows the transgenics to her will, Mole clears his throat to try and break the effect. It causes her to bring a scowl to her beautiful features and intensifies the reaction she is getting to her look.
Max finally looks back at him. "Oh, and one other thing, Mole. I want you to find a suitable ball for the younger ones to play dodge ball...or any other game they wanna play," she says, her tone now soft.
Looking in shock at her, his jaw hanging open, cigar forgotten in his hand, he slowly blinks his reptilian eyes. "A ball?" he finally gasps.
"Yeah, and it better not be a baseball. Dismissed!" Max commands.
Mole turns on his heel in a perfect about face, and stalks from the Command Center. Max looks over at Dix. "Find Alec, I wanna talk to him," she says. "Tell him to meet me at the South-West quadrant manhole in fifteen." Then she turns and walks over to Gem, Original Cindy and Sketchy. That felt good – not as good as beating on his scaly hide, but good and with less pain for me.
"That was frightening...but good to watch, boo," Original Cindy says a huge grin lighting up her dark features as Max walks towards her.
Gem nods, also grinning, as she rocks CeCe gently in her arms. "You have the command presence, Max," she says softly, with a nod of acknowledgement.
Sketchy, however, has a slightly bemused look. "A ball for dodge ball I get, but why mustn't Mole find a baseball?" he asks, puzzled.
"Hey, every man needs a mission in life," Max replies, her face finally lighting up with a huge smile as she winks at Original Cindy and Gem.
"Right, a mission. Did I ever tell you about the guy—"
"Yes, fool!" both Max and Original Cindy shout together.
"I'd like to hear." Gem says her tone curious.
Original Cindy slaps Sketchy on the side of the head, as he is about to speak. "No, you don't, Gem," Max says, her disgust at the thought evident.
"Ouch, that hurt, OC," Sketchy says in a hurt tone.
"And if I ever hear you telling anybody that story again, you'll feel more than my hand upside your head." Original Cindy says, glaring at him.
"You two ready?" Max asks.
"Original Cindy, sure is, sugah."
"I'm good to go, Max," Sketchy replies, his voice crisp, as he unconsciously stands straighter.
The three young women look sharply at his crisp use of the old military expression, as if he'd been using it all his life.
"What now?" he asks, rubbing the site of Original Cindy's recent blow.
"Nothing, Sketchy," Max replies. "Let's go, we're meeting Logan at his quarters,"
"Max," Gem says quickly as Max turns to go.
Looking back, the impatience she is feeling at the delay evaporates as CeCe smiles at her, "What, Gem? It's gotta be quick I'm already late."
"Just be careful out there. Mole's right about one thing, we need you," she says worriedly.
"Thanks, Gem...I know, but I gotta do this - maybe it'll make a difference for you, CeCe, and the rest of my family in here," Max says wistfully. Where are the rest of you...my original family...
"I figure that as well, but still, be careful out there, you and Logan."
"And you look after that baby, she's our future," Max says gently, with a smile at the baby, who is slowly clenching and unclenching a tiny fist. They each give Gem and CeCe one final hug and kiss before turning to head for the door. "See you two again, sugah!" Original Cindy calls back as she walks out the door.
"You know, if I wanted children, Gem and CeCe would fit the bill," Sketchy says thoughtfully, then dodges out of the way as Original Cindy swings at him straight into the punch Max lands on his arm. "Ouch! Max...am I not good enough to be in your family?"
"That's to remind you what my family will do if you hurt one of us," she says mildly.
Gulping, Sketchy scurries past Original Cindy. "And you don't wanna know what Original Cindy will do to your mangy hide if you hurt any of her family,"
--- --- --- --- ---
Terminal City Logan's Quarters:
As Logan straightens up and switches on the exoskeleton he looks down at his legs.
»»»»»
Flashback Logan's Apartment:
Logan is sitting at his desk and tinkering with a part as he talks to Sebastian via webcam. The exoskeleton is set up on a table nearby.
"How did you manage to get the money?" Sebastian's electronic voice asks, as he taps the contacts on either side of his head.
Inserting a screwdriver right through a hole in part of the exoskeleton. "Never mind that. Can you help me get my hands on one of these gizmos?" Logan asks. Pulling the screwdriver back he looks down where something seems to have dropped.
"I'll call my contact in Singapore. Could probably have it here in twelve to fourteen weeks," Sebastian replies.
Sighing in frustration, Logan then looks at the monitor. "That long?" he asks the disappointment evident in his tone.
"Patience," comes the electronic reply.
"I'm all out of patience. I need to be up and walking. Now!" frowning, Logan puts the piece of exoskeleton on the computer desk.
"The processor you are looking for is also used to control the robotic arms in nuclear reactors." Sebastian says to Logan, who is still frowning. He picks up the chip from the desk and turns it in his fingers.
Logan snorts, holding the chip in his right hand, shakes it thoughtfully, "And how am I supposed to get a hold of one of those?"
»»»»»
"Knock, knock!" Max yells through the partition Logan has set up for privacy in the small room.
Yeah, I got my in-house cat burglar to get one for me, and if I'd known what was happening that night, she'd have known how I felt about her. Damn, a whole year wasted because you were too stupid to realize what Max meant to you.
"Logan, you ready in there? I'm running late," Max says, poking her head around the partition, in time to catch Logan pulling up his pants "Hmm, nice," she says sweetly.
Looking around, Logan blushes when he sees the focus of Max's eyes. "I'll be with you in a sec," he says. "Just keep your clothes on," he adds suggestively.
Smiling saucily. I wish we could just head for the Hideaway right now, Logan, and forget this whole meeting dealio. Max backs up, her eyes indecently focused on Logan. Hell, what are you thinking about, girl. Focus on the mission. Turning around, she comes face to face with Original Cindy. Cindy is losing her fight not to smirk, having obviously heard Logan's comment. This time, it's Max's turn to blush.
"He's nearly finished putting on the exoskeleton," Max tells her friend mildly as she desperately tries to control her emotions.
»»»»»
Flashback Logan's Apartment:
Max is lying on the bed in Logan's guestroom staring at the ceiling. He'd eventually gone to bed, or so she assumed. They'd talked about a lot of inconsequential things, anything, really, to take their minds off what could've happened. It'd been a hard twenty-four hours between trying not to kill Bruno, dealing with disgusting sexual advances from the man who'd hurt Logan so much, then almost starting to see him as human, only to be betrayed to the South Africans. Her shoulder still hurt, but she was glad it was Logan who'd bandaged it. He'd saved her life, and she had to admit she was feeling something more than gratitude – it was something she could barely admit to herself, as his gentle hands had worked on her wounds.
"What's happening, Logan?" she whispers to the darkness.
Getting up in only her undershirt and panties, Max walks towards the kitchen. She doesn't need to switch on any lights. Opening the fridge door, she looks in, not really sure what she desires. Hearing the slight whisper of wheels over the wooden floor of the living room, she looks around and sees Logan silhouetted in the dark doorway.
"I could always lend you a robe," he says his tone embarrassed but mixed with an undercurrent of admiration.
Max sees a slight glimmer of reflected light from Logan's glasses as he turns his head away from her, and glances down to where his gaze had been focused. Max sees the outline of her body is visible in the light shining from inside the refrigerator.
Closing the door hastily, Max is glad for the darkness as she blushes. "I'll go get dressed, and be on my way," she says heading for the guestroom.
Behind her she hears a faint "Max," then a sigh of regret or resignation, she is not sure which from the darkness behind her.
»»»»»
You were running scared that night, and it wasn't from the Reds. A year of not admitting how you felt. Then another year of not being able to. We deserve some peace to really figure out where we're going with this, Logan...but when? We'll deal, I guess.
"Max, I'm ready, " Logan says softly, touching her gently on the elbow as he walks around the partition.
Not looking at Logan standing next to her, "Right, I thought we'd use the South-West sewer entrance," Max says. Finally, she turns to look up at him with a shy smile.
"That sounds fine. Pity we don't have time for a quick..." Logan's voice trails, off as he notices Max's flushed cheeks. She indicates with a shift of her eyes that Original Cindy is standing beside the partition looking at the nails on one hand critically, a faint smirk on her face. Logan begins to blush again.
Original Cindy holds up her hands. "That'll teach me to follow Max when she comes to see you...I'll leave you all to get your faces straight befo' you gotta meet the popos," she says. Walking past Logan and Max, "'We're not like that' is well outta the window now, ain't it," Original Cindy mutters aloud.
Max, rolls her eyes as Logan raises his eyes brows, then they both laugh. Embarrassment forgotten, they turn to walk out of the small room.
--- --- --- --- ---
Seattle, Sector 4:
A lean shape with blond hair is standing in the shelter of a doorway as a cold mist from the earlier rainstorm drifts through the evening air. There is a sigh, as the faint, continuous ringing of an unanswered phone is cut off.
Pulling up her hood, Asha looks both ways before crossing the street to the warehouse. She knocks three times then two more times. She waits a moment then knocks three more times in quick succession. After a couple of minutes stamping her feet impatiently to relieve the cold, the door slides back and an emaciated arm waves her inside. "You got what I want?" a hooded figure asks in a sepulchral voice.
Holding out a small vial towards the hooded form, "I got what you want," Asha replies. As the figure grabs for the vial, she pulls it back, eliciting a mew of desire and desperation. "You get this when you tell me what I want to know," she says, her voice devoid of any pity.
Nodding eagerly, the figure moves towards the small office at the side of the door. "This is a war, a war that has been raging for years...yes, years, and now it seems, he has succeeded in creating the one that will save you miserable weaklings from the shroud of death." Turning, the figure lifts its right arm, revealing a cicatrice resembling a caduceus, the intertwined snakes seeming almost alive on the emaciated arm. "But will she succeed against his other spawn?" chuckling madly, the figure continues into the office.
Hesitating a moment, Asha follows the strange figure into the room. "My contact says you know who's been trying to intensify the transgenic situation and even sanctioned the assassination attempt."
Laughing evilly, the figure turns to face Asha, and throws back the hood of the cloak to reveal the heavily tattooed skull-like head of a woman. "I was once the high priestess, of our cult, but I supported the wrong man and so I had to pay. They think me dead...but the son...yes, the son knows I'm alive, and he comes a calling every now and then. He talks about this 452, this Max, this abomination that his father created to defeat him...to defeat us," the voice slowly falling in volume from it's mad shout of a moment ago.
"What does he say about Max? Is he the one giving the inside information to the news channels?" Asha asks impatiently, looking around the sparse office.
"Oh, yes, he's a powerful Government agent, but she has thwarted him at every turn...her and her transgenic boyfriend—"
"Alec!" Asha exclaims in disbelief.
"He, never mentioned a name, just that he seems a bit old for an X5. Must've been one of his father's first successes," the former priestess virtually spitting out the last word. "He's the one to be assassinated, not the abomination. He wants her...she knows where his son is. Stupid boy, as if his son will be his salvation. He has a nice surprise for them though," she nods her head slowly a knowing grin on her face.
Logan was the target. That's what this is all about - revenge for rescuing some kid from this cult. I was the one who took him to his aunt. God, I've just given this mad woman Alec's name.
Suddenly looking closely at Asha, "You know this transgenic? Who is he? Is he the one this 452 is to mate with?" The ex-priestess takes a step towards Asha, who backs away and turns to leave.
"No, give me what I need!" the cult woman screams lunging for Asha. Asha turns aside at the last second, draws her gun, and points it at the now slavering ex-priestess.
"You think a miserable weakling like you can hurt me?" she cackles.
"I don't know about hurting you, but I can sure make you dead," Asha replies as she tries to edge her way towards the door of the office.
As she reaches the door, the mad priestess leaps at her. Maybe it was seeing Max and Alec in action, or just that the priestess was weakened by the lack of the drug Asha was carrying, but she did not reach her intended victim, as two bullets smash into her, one to the forehead blowing the back of her head off, and as she is flung backward by the impact, the second to her chest, blowing it wide open.
For a moment, Asha stands looking in horror at the crumpled form. Logan, and Max, I've got to warn them. Reaching for her cellphone, she speed dials Logan's number. "There is no coverage at this time. If you would like to leave a message press one, if you..." In disgust, she snaps her phone shut. I can't reach Logan, and Alec won't answer. Well, I guess there's only one thing to do. Quickly looking both ways as she leaves the warehouse, she hurries towards the nearest manhole cover.
--- --- --- --- ---
A side street near the border of Sector 10 and Sector 22
In the evening mist, four people are standing close together, struggling to be heard over the music blaring from the huge speakers down the street.
"You take care, boo. Herbal is a good guy but the rest of his peeps can play rough. Even in Compton we walked easy around them...I don't know why hot boy here has to take you on your first date to a dive like that," Original Cindy shouts as she looks accusingly at Logan.
"It's not a date!" They both exclaim loudly together and then look at each other sheepishly.
"Whatever, but couldn't you have found somewhere more...quiet?" Original Cindy asks, allowing the fear she is feeling for the danger her friend will be facing to creep into her voice.
"Logan knows the owner," Max replies quickly before Logan can answer, earning her a slightly irritated frown from him.
Looking from one to the other, Original Cindy finally nods. "Right, but watch yourselves, and we'll see what we can do to keep up the deception." Turning to Sketchy, who has been nodding his head to the music while watching the exchange between the other three without much interest, "Come on Wiggy, lets get on down to Crash so our crew can buy the returning heroes some cold ones...and a girl can think without all this noise."
"Hey, I dig the music. I think I'll go with Max and Logan."
"Come on, you idiot, do you think them peeps is going to be nice to some whacked out white dude like you walking in on their party?" Original Cindy says giving him a shove to start him in the other direction.
"But Logan—"
"Logan knows the owner, fool,"
As Original Cindy and Sketchy walk away, Max and Logan hear Sketchy ask faintly over the booming music, "How does Logan know a Jamaican dread, who owns a restaurant in Seattle?"
Glancing down the street towards the booming music, "Yeah, it could've had a lot less noisy," Max shouts at Logan.
"Well, how was I to know this was Dancehall night?" Logan retorts, embarrassed even as he winces at the loud beat from the huge speakers down the street.
Looking up at Logan, Max cocks an eyebrow at his knowledge of the music, "Whatever, guess we betta get this done," Max says. When no explanation is forthcoming from him, she turns to walk down the street in the same direction as the pounding beat of the Reggae and Dancehall music.
"Max, we walk softly in there, okay," Logan shouts as he nods towards a huge black man with blond dreadlocks and enough gold chains and rings on him to open his own jewelry store.
"No need to shout, Logan, transgenic hearing remember? So who is Goldilocks?"
"Sorry, he's Goldy," Logan says.
As Max looks at him to see if he is mocking her, she sees a tight smile on his lips.
As they near the back of the crowd, Goldy pushes towards them and blocks any further progress with his vast bulk. Nodding at Logan, he eyes Max's body, letting out a whistle, and then looks at Logan. "Mi see yu get yu'self a goodass deh, Mis'r Jack, han' yu can walk hagain,"("I see you've found yourself a desirable (perfect figured) woman, Mister Jack, and you can walk again") he shouts, beaming a smile which reveals a mouth full of gold teeth.
As the huge man blocks their path and looks lasciviously at Max, she shifts stance slightly, a fixed smile on her beautiful lips, ready to fight. What the hell is this goon saying? Is he insulting me or Logan or both? And I thought Herbal was incomprehensible! No matter. One more word or look like that and he's mine. Then hearing a soft, "No Max," beside her, she glances at Logan. He is wearing an expression of resignation on his face mixed with the bare trace of an ironic smile.
"She's the reason I'm walking tall and standing here straight," Logan replies self-consciously, the love he has for Max evident.
Looking again at Max, who is now looking at Logan with narrowed eyes at his open admission of his feelings to this strange man, the giant golden haired dreadlock laughs loudly, causing a few people to look around, even over the loud music, "Mi woulda stan'up straight to, even if mi was inna mi grave if she did look 'pon me so."("I would stand up straight, too, even if I was dead, if she looked at me like that.") Then gesturing for them to follow, he points to a side entrance.
Why was Logan so open with this guy? There's a lot going on here that he's not telling me. Which reminds me. Alec better have a damn good excuse for not meeting us and not answering his phone – he better not have run. Damn, I bet he has. We better get this meet wrapped up quick and back to Terminal City. Dix is not the best choice to be in charge right now while Logan and I are away. Why the hell now, Alec? I thought you were learning...like I have. Looking at Logan, she sees him watching her, the love still evident in the green depths of his eyes.
I guess she didn't understand much of what he was saying, but she was ready to take him out, thinking he was insulting me...us. What I said was true. It's because of Max that I found a reason to live, and through her, a way to walk, to feel, and to love again. Goldy saved my life once, I owe him for that. Looking at Max walking beside him, he sees her love in the depths of her brown eyes.
--- --- --- --- ---
The Pepper Pot Restaurant:
Inside, the music is only slightly less loud near the closed door, but as they walk further in it gets bearable, but still loud enough to prevent the casual listener from hearing anything. The restaurant is wreathed in sweet smelling smoke that causes both Max and Logan to sneeze.
"Mis'r Rattail, him say yu to get yu usual boot han' him cook 'im special jus' 'ow yu like it, Mis'r Jack. 'Im maybe see yu latta, but 'im have som' business a rung,"("Mister Rattail says you're to get your usual booth, and he's cooked his special just how you like it, Mister Jack. He says he may see you later, but he has some business to take care of.") the giant says waving Max and Logan into a small booth, furthest from the smoke and music, with seating for four. "'Im say yu got two more a come, yu wan' me to bring dem in too?"("He says there are two more coming. Do you want me to show them where you're sitting?") he asks waving over a waitress carrying two cold imported Red Stripe beers.
"Yes. Goldy...one's the Asian cop that was investigating old Jack's murder," Logan says looking straight at the man standing in front of him.
"Fo' a Chinie Babylon, 'im did 'im job and find di ras dat did dus good old massa Jack. We chop dat de basta'd inna so much likkle piece 'im no rung nuttin' now...mi make sure dem find yu, Mis'r Jack,"("For a Chinese cop, he did his job and found the ass that killed old master Jack. We chopped up that bastard into so many little pieces he's not running anything now...I'll make sure they find you, Mister Jack.") he says before turning and shoving his way through the crowd towards the front door.
Leaning forward, Max looks at Logan in wonder, "You actually understand what that lumbering gold factory is saying?" she asks, her voice raised over the music.
Laughing lightly, Logan shakes his head and holding his index finger and thumb slightly apart, "About this much most of the time. He tried to explain it to me once...would you believe he has degrees in English Literature from Oxford and Law from Harvard?"
"You're kidding me, right? " Max asks in disbelief, looking at the wide back of Goldy disappearing through the crowded restaurant.
Shaking his head, "That's the economy," Logan says.
"I could make some real cash from just one of his teeth," Max says thoughtfully.
"Max, no, he's..." Logan's voice trails off as he notices a slim, elegantly dressed man coming towards them as everyone in his path quickly gets out of his way. Max, follows his gaze, and hides her surprise at seeing an obviously Caucasian man with one long braid of hair sitting in a wheel chair pulling up beside their table.
God, Logan, what is it with you and your little secrets? You're still not telling me something. Or is it just me? Is there something about me you don't trust?"
"Ah, my friend, I see you've some excellent taste in women as well as cuisine. Goldy also reports that you are up and walking. Is this a one off miracle or can it be shared?" he says, looking meaningfully at Max, his Jamaican accent overlaid with an affected American one.
"Sorry, Rattail, you wouldn't be willing to pay the price," Logan says, his tone flat and unfriendly.
"You're right, my friend, I probably wouldn't. And I apologize for that little...error...awhile back. The person who supplied me with the information was dealt with by a certain Mr. Bleed."
At that, both Max and Logan look at each other quickly then back at Rattail who has a faint smile on his lips. "I've made a special batch of your favorite dish. I will see you and your delightful friend again some time. Walk good," he says, no irony evident in his tone. He swings around smoothly and heads through the crowd, which parts smoothly for him."
"Apart from being an Eyes Only informant, who is that guy really?" Max asks, a note of suspicion in her voice.
"He is what they call a Don Gorgon, a local gang leader of sorts, but I've also heard it used for his skills in the kitchen. His is a vastly different background to Goldy's."
"How so?" Max asks, curiosity now interlaced with her suspicion that Logan is keeping something secret about these people from her.
"Did you notice his accent?"
"Yeah, I was wondering about that among other things."
"Well, he's from a privileged class in Jamaica, wealth, position, power. Whereas Goldy pulled himself out of the slums only to be thrown back into it, Rattail chose his life of crime...he's in that chair because of a kidnap situation gone wrong. He learnt to cook in San Quentin. He's still a criminal, but he's also a great chef," Logan says, irony coloring his words.
"We all make choices, Logan, you, if anybody, know that, good or bad," Max says looking at him. You and your moral judgments, You choose right, and he choose wrong - end of story. Or is it because he comes from the same background as you that you feel he should have done the right thing...one word Logan, Jonas. Then suddenly blinking as if something just struck her, "You've, actually eaten here?" Max asks, disbelief written all over her face. You, Logan Cale, climbed down outta your tower and slummed it for a meal?
Looking uncomfortable, Logan fixes his gaze on the tabletop, "Okay, I've a weakness for oxtail. This is the only place in Seattle I can get it the way I like, apart from cooking it myself," he says, pride coloring the last part of his statement, "And have you ever seen the price of that stuff?" he adds, shaking his head ruefully.
"What, the once rich Logan Cale quibbling about the price of the part a cow uses to keep flies off?" Max asks teasingly.
"It wasn't the price, although that's certainly a factor now, it was the quality...besides, it's not a cow it comes from," Logan replies peevishly. "I never figured you'd want to try it," he adds looking up at Max, a questioning look in his green eyes.
And I bet it's good cover when you have to meet your informant. "Maybe you can do some for me one day," Max shouts over the suddenly loud music as the front door opens. After I steal some.
"Hmmm," comes softly from Logan as he sees Matt Sung approaching with Lieutenant Ramon Clemente in tow following Goldy to their table.
Nodding to Goldy, who turns and lumbers off, Logan waves the two policemen to sit, as another scanty clad waitress puts down two more imported beers in front of them.
"Mr. Cale, Max," Ramon Clemente says nodding to the two fugitives. Matt stares openly at the two of them, saying nothing.
Lifting her bottle of beer, Max casually takes a swig, her eyes not leaving either policeman, "This is good beer, have some," she says pleasantly.
"Max, Mr. Cale, I'm only here because the situation with Terminal City is at a critical juncture and you informed detective Sung that you had some information on an assassination attempt on you, Max...Are the, transgenics dissatisfied with your leadership?" Lieutenant Clemente asks, leaning forward as he speaks his eyes not leaving them.
Max and Logan look at each other for a second, and Max nods to Logan, then they look at the two policemen. "White sanctioned a hit on me. We don't know if it was official or for personal reasons—"
"Personal?" both Clemente and Matt Sung ask together.
"We've had run-ins with Ames White before...he's not happy with some things we've done to make his life miserable," Max answers, takes another swig of beer, then smiles sweetly.
As the two stare at her, Logan clears his throat, "What Max means is that he may think that he can get to her through me. He's seen us together a few times when he's tried to kill or capture transgenics, and of course, after Jam Pony, he's obviously convinced of that. By eliminating me, he may figure Max may do something stupid." As he speaks he throws Max a slightly annoyed look at her flippancy.
"So what do you mean to each other? And what happened to the assassin?" Clemente asks, still leaning forward, as Matt Sung looks uncomfortably at Logan and Max.
"Max/Logan and I..." they begin to say together, then sigh, "We've a—' Max begins awkwardly.
"We're partners," Logan interjects bluntly. It just took us awhile to figure it out. With a slight raising of his eyebrows, he looks at the beautiful woman sitting beside him. She smiles faintly, thinking of the last time she used that phrase in Break's shop. It was when she got the clothes for them both and the set of Dr.Who DVDs as a present for Logan. Then looking at the two men across the table, "He escaped...were going after him and we need your help."
"A'wha a'go on ya so."("What is happening here?") "A what dat dere abomination a do wit two Babylon and a depressor inna 'ere?"("What is that abomination doing with two cops and an oppressor(white man) in here?") an angry voice shouts across the room.
The four in the booth turn to see a tall man with a full head of dreadlocks streaming down his back storming across the restaurant towards them.
As Max focuses her enhanced vision, she sees him pulling a gun from inside his jacket and starting to raise it. She shoves Logan down, "Down, he's got a gun!" Max shouts as she upends the heavy table they'd been sitting at. As bullets begin to punch into the wall and the table indiscriminately, there is a cry of pain.
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TBCA/N: Some explanations:
(for many Jamaicans anybody of Asian descent is Chinese, and is normally refered to as Mr. Chin) This is for anybody who argues whether Matt Sung is Korean or Chinese.
(ras is a swear word.) It is the contraction of two words it can also be spelt with a second "s" which could also be a contraction of a third word.