MAKE ME MAD

By Allegra

See Part One for disclaimers etc.

CHAPTER 8

Max was still fighting her emotions when she dragged her bike into a safe corner and headed up to Logan's apartment. She knew his copious calls to her pager over the past hour had only been because he was worried about her but she had needed some space. Sure, Logan had stood up for Alec a couple of times in the past but Max was also sensitive enough to recognise that he wasn't exactly Eyes Only's favourite person. Although there was nothing more than annoyance between them, Max's relationship with Alec was a threat to Logan. Alec was several times more of a man, physically, than Logan could ever hope to be since his accident. Max had simply needed some time alone, to reconcile what she had just witnessed with the guy she had kicked out of Seattle not so long ago.

Padding through Logan's apartment, Max found him sitting at the kitchen bar with a bowl of peanuts and a glass of water. His eyes were firmly fixed on the lame excuse for a newspaper in front of him. The headline read like the front cover of Nexus magazine - conspiracy theories and fuzzy pictures taken by eye-witnesses abounded.

Max crept up behind him and tilted her head askew as she read the first line. "'Was Michael Jackson the founder of a mutant race?' Wow, Logan, you think we should follow that one up?"

Logan jumped visibly and whirled on the bar stool round to face her. "Max! I've been paging you for over an hour! Where have you been? I was worried." Her attempt at a joke had failed miserably to conceal the fear on her face and Logan sensed it immediately. "What happened?"

Max had been holding herself together for hours but the strain was taking its toll. She hadn't been ready for the effect something happening to Alec would produce in her. "Logan, it was awful. I felt so helpless. I've never felt like that before."

Logan desperately wanted to encircle her shoulders with his arms, to hold her tightly but he knew it was forbidden. "I have," he replied. His words reached her but it was clear that Max's mind was far from absorbing the subtext. Drawing her out of the kitchen and to the sofa, he sat down across from her. "Tell me everything. What happened?"

Max swallowed, dryly. She knew he deserved to hear the whole story but she needed to be strong to tell it. Mentally fishing for the training Manticore had given her, she fought to seek the resilience she needed to get through this whole situation intact. She was no good to anyone as a nervous wreck, least of all Alec. Bracing herself, Max poured out the whole incident. Logan was patient and asked no questions, simply letting her vent everything.

Finally, he spoke. "So White's behind it for sure."

Max nodded, uneasily. "But why? Why would he do something like this, Logan? It doesn't make any sense."

Logan was already on the same wavelength. "He only wants Alec dead. Why would he toy with him like this? Unless..."

Max looked up, expectantly. "Unless?"

"Unless he has discovered something else about Alec that we don't know or..." The light bulb in his head was flashing brightly. "...he's keeping Alec in there for another reason, for a further purpose. After all, White still works for the FBI and maybe, for a while, his orders coincide with the personal goals of his breeding cult."

Max stared at him, a familiar fire renewed in her eyes. "And there's only one way to find out."

Logan caught her, "Wait, Max, what are you going to do?"

Already on her feet once more, Max clenched her jaw. "Pump his doctor for information. Judging from the way he deferred to White, he must be working for him. White might be a match for me but this Dr. Ford certainly isn't."

"What happens if you get caught? You'll be a lot of use to Alec locked up in the state penitentiary for assault."

Max's hands went to her hips. "You got a better plan?"

Logan raised his eyebrows in concern. "I just think you need to do a bit of contingency planning. If he's not involved, you'll have beaten up an old man for no good reason and if he is, well, Alec's dead."

Max shrugged, "So I'll take him with me."

Logan was starting to have trouble keeping up with Max's erratic decisions. "Who? The doctor?"

"No, not the doctor - Alec!"

Logan smiled, sardonically. "So the circle comes around. Isn't that exactly the problem? You can't break him out."

"No. Before, I was cautious. Now I'm just mad and I want Alec back here with us - safe. If that means taking him out of there by force then that's what I'll do." Max watched Logan's mouth open to deliver another meditated piece of crap and she snapped. "No arguments!"

Logan could barely contain himself. "No arguments?! Max, you're not thinking this through! Even if you do all this and get Alec out, what then? From what you've said, White's broken him down in little more than twenty-one days! Can you even begin to imagine what kind of torture or drugs he would need to achieve that?!"

Max snarled, "Of course I do. Better than you."

Logan lowered his voice, realising how dangerously close they were to a full-scale argument. "So how are you going to help him? Tell me because I'm dying to know. How in God's name are you helping Alec anywhere in this half-cocked plan?"

Max said nothing, her jaw tight and determined. Then, slowly the tensed muscles uncoiled and her hands dropped from her waist. Softly, she whispered, "I have to, Logan. There's no other way."

He sighed, understanding only too well how she was feeling at this minute. God knows he had walked in her shoes once, whenever Max was in danger and he was helpless to do anything other than sit by a computer and fearing the worst. Yet, he couldn't hold her back, he could only be the voice of reason and pray that she took his advice. "I'm sorry, Max. I know you're worried."

Suddenly, her expression altered once more and Logan's heart lurched when he caught the whirling dervish of raw emotions displayed there. Briskly, she told him, "I am, but we can't wait any longer. I'm not even sure if White saw me. He might have already worked out who Alec's visitor was and be carting him away as we speak. Logan, there isn't time to talk this over anymore! I've got to go back there, pump Ford for everything he knows, grab Alec's medical files and then him."

Logan hated the way this whole scenario sounded. He could already see the blood stains on the walls but, when push came to shove, he would always stand beside Max no matter what. "Well, if you're going to do this, you need a getaway car. Alec's not going to get on your bike."

Max nodded, mutely. For a moment, their gazes locked, both hoping to see something more than weary resignation to their fates. Logan wanted nothing more than for Max to back down and Max was searching for more than support simply because he loved her. She wanted him to believe in the mission. But he didn't, so they'd have to make do. "Thanks," she managed.

**********

Dr. Ford had spent the better part of an hour sitting outside his own office while Dr. Stern familiarised himself with the latest developments in Christian's file. It was somewhat irksome to be usurped from his very own room but he had given up trying to stand his ground with Stern a long time ago. Ford had discussed their patient's case over the phone for several months prior to Christian's admission to Pineview, a somewhat unusual way to conduct such business. From the get go, Ford had been suspicious of Stern's motives and the verity of Christian's case, but one look at the state he arrived in was ample proof that the poor boy was in dire need of psychological aid.

However grateful he had been to see the patient for himself, Ford had never quite shaken off his reservations about Christian's therapist. His credentials had checked out adequately, including all his professional qualifications and even past patients. But still there was something lacking, a certain aloofness and manner quite atypical for such a successful therapist. Yet, it didn't seem to matter how often he queried the man's decisions, Ford quickly found himself back where he had started.

At long last and several coffees later, Ford was readmitted to his office where Stern was still seated in his favourite leather chair. Reclining back in the squeaky brown leather, the younger man stared at Ford through narrowed eyes. "Everything seems to be in order, Dr. Ford. You've been treating my patient well."

"Really? Well, I haven't really been at liberty to do much more than try talking to him."

Stern smiled, "I'm sure you're working wonders beneath the surface, doctor."

Ford cleared his throat, uncertainly. "Dr. Stern, I was hoping to have a word with you about Christian's medication. I followed your instructions to the letter when he first arrived but..."

Stern's eyes pierced his. "You haven't been tampering with his prescriptions, have you?"

"No, nothing like that, but I was thinking perhaps now would be a good time to reconsider the boy's needs."

"Do me a favour and don't think. I respect your opinions, doctor, but I also spent a good deal of time drawing up arrangements with your governors to maintain full control of Christian's case. I hope you haven't forgotten the contract you signed."

Ford shook his head, vigorously. "No, no, of course not." It was rare for Stern to be so curt but neither was it completely unheard of. In fact, it was the very aspect of the man's personality which concerned Ford the most. What sort of doctor demanded such strict adherence to his own decisions? One might think the answer would be a doctor who cared so much for his patient that he didn't trust anyone else enough to handle the case. Yet, Stern displayed no such concern, if anything the elderly doctor detected a certain contempt for Christian. What sort of doctor despised his patient?

On most occasions, Ford bit his tongue or presented his opinions with tentative suggestion, but given the deterioration Christian was undertaking, something had to be said. "I don't wish to cause trouble, Dr. Stern, but surely you can see from the physical tests my staff have carried out that Christian is deteriorating rapidly. I am concerned that these drug concoctions you have been issuing are having more negative than positive effects on his condition."

Stern nodded, taking in the suggestion with calm meditation. "I see. And that is your professional opinion, is it?"

"Yes, it is," Ford admitted, warily, but refusing to withdraw the comment. For a moment the two men remained in silence until it was broken by the timely entrance of a nurse. She stopped short in the doorway and stammered, "Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. Ford. I didn't know you had company."

Ford waved her in. "That's fine, Penny. Are these the latest test results?"

"Yes, doctor. They just came back."

"Thank you." The nurse disappeared and Ford perused the sheets of paper in the cardboard folder, his brow furrowing in concern. "I wonder if these might not lend more weight to my medical opinion, Dr. Stern." He passed the papers over the table.

Stern accepted them ungraciously and held a scan up to the light. "What exactly am I looking at here, doctor? Physiology isn't really my field."

Another slip which Ford was willing to overlook. He was quite aware when he was outnumbered. Everyone above him whom he had approached over the dodgy Dr. Stern had been like a brick wall. They had all been paid off to keep their mouths shut, which only made him an even more shady character. Now, he didn't even seem to know how to read a brain scan. Humouring him, Ford explained, "Christian's brain activity is being severely affected by the quantities of sedatives circulating through his blood stream. They are inhibiting function through his cerebral cortex. His synapses are not firing properly, or rather they are doing so fairly erratically, which in turn is slowly corroding his brain matter. Whatever information he has stored there, subconscious, conscious, memories, motor functions, will all begin to disintegrate if this ridiculous course of drugs continues!"

Stern examined the scan without so much of a flicker of remorse. "I see. And what convinced you to carry out these tests, doctor? I'm curious - do I detect some animosity?"

Ford was unprepared for such a base attack. "Of course not! My concern is purely a human one for a boy in dire need of help. I can't believe you would even deign to consider I would..."

Ford stopped when he saw a look of sudden realisation cross Stern's face. "We need to reduce the dosage immediately. No, forget that. I want him moved. I'll organise it."

"Move him? What are you talking about?!"

"I don't expect you to understand, doctor, but I do expect your co-operation. I will make arrangements within the week to have Christian removed to a more secure facility with the capacity to deal with this sort of thing. I think we're done then." Without waiting for so much as a word of acknowledgement, Stern grabbed the file and stalked from the room, leaving poor Dr. Ford mouth agape behind him.

**********

Max had dutifully waited until nightfall before embarking on the plan which Logan had so eloquently shot down at every opportunity. In truth, the transgenic had been disappointed by her cohort's attitude. Part of the appeal of Eyes Only was the risk he was always willing to take in search of justice, yet suddenly none of that counted where Alec was concerned. Sure, Max would have been the first to stand up and state her surprise that the shallow, irritating, opportunistic fellow X5 had so deeply embroiled her in one of his scrapes. On the other hand, Alec was almost as much a target of White's hatred as she herself was, and this particular problem was simply another way of piecing together the murky plan White had been hatching.

Why couldn't Logan see that? There was a fine line between putting a friend in jeopardy and leaving him there to gather maximum information, but this situation had gone way beyond that. Alec was not learning anything from this, he wasn't building up a mental record of access codes and tidbits of information. He was suffering, brutally and frighteningly rapidly forced into a state of fear and loneliness. Not even Max could leave him to such a fate.

Back in her cat burgling garb, she was feeling much more like herself. Something about the charade of the wig and feigned weakness during her visit as Sheryl Barber had made Max feel vulnerable. Now, however, everything was back to normal. She wouldn't need to hitch a skirt up in order to deliver a vicious drop kick, nor would she only have a handbag to swing in self defence. No, this was a transgenic at her best. As if to prove this fact to herself, Max deftly picked the lock on one of the back exits of the facility and slipped inside. In some operations, a daytime assault was a useful surprise tactic but, if there was one thing that never changed, it was bedtime on a psychiatric ward. All the freaks were calmly sedated or fitted snugly into their straitjackets for the night, leaving a few lazy custodians to snooze away in front of the office television.

It didn't take long for Max to locate Dr. Ford's office since it was placed fairly close to the main entrance of the block. Neither did she have to guess as to whether the good doctor would be inside. A mellow, buttery glow shone from around the door frame and the transgenic peeked through the keyhole to make sure there would be no surprises on the other side. Until she had answers to the questions whirling in her mind, there was no telling when White might appear. The coast appeared clear so Max kicked open the door with undue force, hoping to impress the importance of this visit on Ford.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" she enquired, voice laden with sarcasm.

Ford's pen dropped from loose fingers as the young woman approached his desk, apparently from nowhere. "Who are you?" he stammered. "What do you want?"

"I want answers and you seem to be just the man to provide them, starting with everything you know about Christian Hastings." Max leaned across the man's papers, forcing him into formidable eye contact.

Ford fumbled with his glasses for a moment and Max was about to swipe them out of his hand when her conscience got the better of her. He seemed genuinely afraid of her and, for someone with direct connections with Ames White, hardly exhibited character traits synonymous with keeping secrets. It dawned on Max that this man could be nothing more than a pawn in White's game, in which case, playing the heavy would only break a few bones and extract a few pitiful pleads. Finding his voice, Ford put up a good show of invincibility. "I'm afraid patient-doctor confidentiality forbids me passing on that kind of information...and the circumstances of your arrival only confirm its importance."

Max smiled sweetly, as if he were an insect about to be trampled under her army surplus boots. "But Christian isn't just your patient though, is he? Dr. Stern has complete control of the case." It was a statement not a question and Max could see the change in the older man's face. He was trying to place her face and thereby the source of all this information.

"Do I know you?"

"Picture me as a blonde."

"Christian's visitor? Who are you?"

Max shifted on the edge of the desk until she was gazing down at him. "I'm asking the questions, grandad. Now tell me everything you know about Christian, starting with who you're working for."

"I work for Pineview! I don't work for anyone else." The urgency in his voice led Max to believe Ford was telling the truth but she couldn't make life too easy for the guy during an interrogation.

"Yeah, sure you do. Ever hear of Ames White? FBI with a few other projects on the side?"

Ford shook his head, vehemently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I believe you but, take it from me, you don't want to mess with guys like him. So, if I told you he has a pretty black track record and that he happens to be posing as Dr. Stern, would you tell me about Christian without me squeezing you too hard?" Max had warmed to the doctor on her previous visit and, although she didn't hold my stock by gut instincts, she had the strong feeling that he was one of the good guys. It would give her no satisfaction to bloody his nose or break his fingers.

Ford raised the heel of his palms to his eye sockets, forcing the glasses up to the bridge of his nose. He let out a strained sigh as if trying hard to come to terms with everything he was hearing. Max let him be. It was a lot to digest, after all. Eventually, he raised watery blue eyes to her fierce brown ones. "That would certainly explain his lack of medical knowledge."

"So you knew nothing about his disguise? How did you get involved in all this?"

"I was approached by one of the board of governors for the hospital. He informed me of a special case, Christian's. The conditions of his stay here were strange to say the least. He already had a competent therapist with many years of experience, this Dr. Stern. Christian needed permanent care and mental exercise to ensure that his brain activity did not diminish any further than it already had. There was a strict diet and a medication regime of the likes I have never seen in my professional career."

Max interrupted, "So if everything seemed so strange, why didn't you say something to your superiors?"

"Who could I tell? The governors were behind it and, besides, there were other financial incentives for my co-operation." Max nodded, mutely, trying hard not to pass judgement. Ironic that Alec should find himself at the hands of someone as financially corrupt as himself. Ford sensed her disgust and tried to defend himself. "I'm not getting any younger and work in the health sector, even private since the Pulse, is a pauper's job. I was just trying to make ends meet and I was assured that, with Stern's consent, I would be able to give Christian all the support he needed."

"But...?" Max prompted. So far the story sounded pretty tidy. There had to be a few stray ends around the place somewhere.

Ford sighed, "Well, I suppose I never banked on meeting a doctor with such vicious work ethics. Almost every suggestion I made for the bettering of Christian's health was rebuffed without so much as an explanation. I was given sparing information about the boy's background and needs. Therapy has been my only option."

"And it hasn't worked?"

"Not with the medication he has been given. I never knew the contents of each pill but the depressant effect on the patient's brain was enormous. I tried to override Stern's jurisdiction in the matter but have met a stone wall at every turn. That is why FBI involvement does not entirely surprise me." Ford finished, eyeing Max warily, as if expecting her to give him a Chinese burn or pin him to the floor.

"Listen, doctor, I don't want to compromise you any further by giving you too much information. Suffice to say, Christian is not your patient's real name and Stern, White, whatever you want to call him, put him here for a reason. He wants 'Christian' dead, he wants me dead. I don't know what kind of game he is playing but you can be quite sure there was nothing wrong with your patient until Stern got him in his grasp."

"Is there anything I can do?" Ford enquired, genuinely concerned for Alec's welfare.

"Right now, the best you can do is give me Christian's medication and turn a blind eye while I get him out of here."

"Where will you take him?"

"The less answers you have, the safer you are, doctor." Max hoped the words sounded a little gentler than the rest of their conversation. "Where is he?"

Ford rummaged in the desk and produced several small bottles of pills and a couple of syringes. "These are the meds he's been taking so far. I kept a few aside with the hope of getting them tested but...maybe you could do it." His voice trailed away for a moment as if embarrassed of his well-intended yet cowardly plans. "He's in room 211, but there's something you should know!"

Max paused in the doorway with the bag of medication. "What?"

"This afternoon I told Stern that Christian's brain activity was narrowing. He is going to have the boy removed from Pineview as soon as possible."

"He's already taken Ale...Christian?" Max asked, worriedly.

Ford shook his head, "No, not yet."

"Then, as far as you know, I was never here." She took another step towards the door before glancing back at the old man who looked frailer than ever behind his large desk. "If Stern gets heavy, tell him everything that took place this evening, but make it look like I used forced. If he doesn't suspect you, I'll be the first suspect for White anyway." Forcing a smile to her lips, Max ducked out of the office and headed directly for the stairwell.

She sprinted silently along the corridor until she reached room 211. Putting down the bag Ford had given her, Max fumbled for the small selection of tools she always kept about her person.

Jiggling the locks and using enhanced strength to deal with the dead bolts, Max cautiously opened the patient's door. For a second, her hand paused on the handle, her mind flooding with possibilities of what she was about to see. So far, Max had viewed this sortie in a soldier's terms, with Manticore detachment. Get in, achieve the objective, get out. Now, at this pivotal moment, all of that fell away and she was reminded with a shivering rush that now was the moment she'd be facing Alec once more.

His whimpering plead for her to leave him alone kept repeating in her head and Max faltered for a moment. A shuffling sound from the end of the corridor quickly reasserted her and she swiftly stepped through the door, closing it quietly behind her. Now she was alone. Alone with Alec - or rather the shell of him.

"Alec?" she whispered into the darkness. Taking a step closer towards the dark shape in the bed, Max withdrew a penlight from her belt and shone it carefully over the sleeping form. It didn't take more than a cursive glance to realise. This wasn't Alec at all. He was gone.

**********

END OF PART 8

OK, I'm sorry guys! After taking sooo long writing this part, I've gone & left you with a cop-out ending again. But, I've already had 2 threats of leg-breaking if I don't get a move on!! They didn't say anything about it being a satisfying new part (he,he!!). If it's any consolation, there WILL indeed be a happy ending to this story, even though it might not appear that way right now.