Chapter 11:

A/N: The queen of cliffhangers, sweet, I like it. Hopefully I'll have you all throwing rotten fruit at me many times over by the time this is all said and done. This is another nice long chapter.

Disclaimer: I haven't owned them for 10 previous chapters, but Fox suddenly decided to sell me the rights….. uh huh. And if you believe that I got a bridge I can sell you, cheap.

(--)

Max saw the muzzle flash, but the sound of the gunshot was somehow muted. She flinched, her shoulders tightening and rising up around her ears, like somehow that could make her a smaller target. She hated, hated getting shot. Recovery was always such a pain in the ass.

The bullet sliced through the air, skimming past Max's right earlobe. It only took half a second longer than that for Max to realize that the bullet hadn't struck her. And suddenly the commandos bursting into HQ were not in the forefront of her mind. She blurred forward a couple of yards and spun. This day could not possibly get any weirder.

Blood spurted from the wound in Glock's forearm. The burly, blonde X5 doubled over, his left hand clutching the wound that went through and through. A slim knife had clattered to the concrete floor by his feet. "Everybody freeze!" Someone bellowed. Shock gave way to Max's general sense of confusion. She whirled, for the first time taking a good look around the room.

Krysm stood beside Luke on the second floor platform. He had his favorite high powered rifle positioned over the railing, pointed down into the midst of Glock's compatriots. A few yards away Swaine held two of Glock's men at bay, a semiautomatic in each hand. Poe, her swath of purple hair falling across her eye, stood next to Cade. Max could still see the light, smoky ring of powder discharge mingling in the air by his gun. Poe and Cade were the ones that had burst in the front door. Slowly, all seven of Glock's men relinquished their weapons, the ring of metal and concrete in the air.

Of all the shocked people in the room, Max was the first to recover. It melted into outrage, revealing itself in a killer right hook that sent Glock crashing to the floor. Then she looked back and matched Cade's gaze, arching an eyebrow. "If you're here to stage a coup I don't want to know about it. Hell, at this point I'm half ready to give you the job."

"Nah," Cade answered, a wry smile bringing warmth to his face. "Usurper never held a great ring to my ear. Besides, I'm rather enjoying my semi-retirement." The grin broadened as his eyes flicked lazily over to Poe, who did not return the look. Cade holstered his weapon in his shoulder carry, ambling up to stand beside Max, both taking mild satisfaction at the sight of Glock squirming on the ground.

"Aside from those moments you come sweeping in to play white knight?" Max joked.

Cade shrugged. "No horse, no sword and uh…" he plucked at the black T-shirt clinging to his chest, "white's not really my color. Ran into Krysm and Swaine on the way here. We heard through the grapevine you might need a hand."

Out of the corner of her eye Max saw Estee shift uncomfortably. So that's what she'd been talking to Dix about outside, calling in reinforcements. Not that she'd ever admit it aloud, but Max was almost grateful.

"A good shot anyway," Max conceded. "Thanks."

Again Cade shrugged. "No problem." A soft grunt bubbled out his lips, toeing Glock lightly in the side. "You always were an asshole." Glock's face was bright red, and hate seethed from every pore.

"I think he must have missed those lessons on honor," Max agreed.

"Can't miss what you don't get. Rest of us just kinda learned along the way. Glock's a little slower than the rest of the pack." He settled his hands on his hips and craned his head upward. "Yo Swaine!"

The tough brunette barely glanced over her shoulder, preferring to keep her sights peeled on the men she held under gunpoint. "What?" she barked.

Cade clucked his tongue disapprovingly, wagging his head at Max. "You know, I used to always get a nice crisp 'yes sir', kinda response. Now it's 'what?' Where's the decorum, I ask you?"

Max could see the corner of Swaine's mouth quirk. "It went the way of Manticore sir." She drew out the last word, rolling it slowly off her tongue, and it was dripping dry.

"Watch your tongue soldier, I can still wipe the floor with you," Cade chastised jokingly.

"My ass," Swaine shot back.

"How many times do I have to tell you, your ass, your business?" Swaine's shoulders pitched as she snorted. "You feel up to taking this lot down to holding with Krysm, or are you too busy preening? Let them cool their heels for a while." He chuckled, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Swaine shot him a withering look and Krysm even groaned.

"That was weak Cade, even for you," Swaine shook her head.

The silly smile didn't leave him. "Whatever. Let them reconsider the error of their ways. Now stop harping on my sense of humor and go."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Up on the platform Swaine waved two of Glock's men in front of her and down the steps with a wave of a pistol. Krysm let them all pass, his rifle pressed firmly to his shoulder. Swaine gave him a sideways look. "Coming Chaplin?" she questioned. Krysm pursed his lips and followed. Estee and Poe gathered the others, giving each a quick pat down before herding them toward Swaine, Krysm. They would head out the rear doors. No sense sending them into a riot.

"We have holding cells?" Max asked dubiously, confusion evident.

Cade shrugged, something she decided then that he had a penchant for and said, "Old walk in deep freeze Swaine found." Ah ha, deep freeze, cool their heels. Swaine was right, it had been a bad joke. "Figure it'll work well enough. Meant to tell you about it but uh…" He scratched beneath his eyebrow with one finger and cleared his throat, blue eyes flicking once again toward Poe. "…I got uh…"

"Distracted?" Max supplied helpfully. He didn't exactly look apologetic; he looked more like he was holding back a wolfish grin. Men. Typical.

"Distracted, yeah, that'll do." Krysm, Swaine and Estee, who had managed to procure herself a gun, had gathered Glock's buddies together.

"You too Glock," Max said, looking down, expression bland. "You're bleeding on my floor." The big man heaved himself off the floor, his left hand still clutched around his forearm. He eyed Max warily and sluggishly moved off to join the others. "Once I clean up this mess you started I'll be down to talk to you and yours about some kind of disciplinary action. I'm thinking it's going to involve a lot of time down in the sewers!" she called after them cheerily as they were ushered away.

For once in Max's overly insomnia plagued life, the only thing she could really think of was a nice soft mattress and a good long dose of REM sleep. Not that that was likely to happen of course, not with the mob still congregating outside the doors of HQ, or the equally riled up group of Ordinaries outside the gate. Tension ran so thick in the street that the transhumans and X series were one snide comment away from coming to blows. There were those that agreed with Glock, and those that sided with Max. She had to convince them that infighting would accomplish nothing, that they had to stand together once again, and ask them to trust her to handle the Police. She'd have felt better about the whole thing if Alec was there to stand with her. No, the night was long from over.

Max steeled herself to get back to work with a long sigh, shoving her exhaustion to the rear of her mind. First she would deal with her own kind, and then she'd deal with the cops. There had to be someone in the Seattle police department that would listen, but who? And then there was the matter of finding some way to get Alec, Mole and the others out of hostile territory and back inside the safety, however relatively speaking, of TC.

Her right hand strayed into the pocket of her jacket and found her cell phone, her thumb passing idly over the number one on her speed dial. Alec. She closed her eyes, and was struck by a vision of keen, mocking hazel eyes, and a crooked smile seen over the rim of a tumbler glass of whiskey. A cold bolt of fear hit her then, and the easy swing of her step faltered. What if he'd started bleeding again? What if Bart's sutures ruptured? Or what if White… Max didn't even finish the thought in her head. Even if she'd wanted to, the strong grip of someone on her arm probably would have interrupted her train of thought anyway. Poe had holstered her weapon and grabbed Max as she went past.

Dark chocolate eyes flicked from Poe's hand to her face, expectant of some sort of explanation. Poe released her grip like it was fire. She wanted Max's attention, not a fist to the face. "My sister," she began, "Krysm said she went with you on the op. Where is she?"

Krysm talks? Max quelled the urge to voice the question aloud. There was panic in Poe's face, and a protectiveness Max well understood. "She's fine," she assured the other girl. "She's out in Sector Six." Max looked between Cade and Poe. "how do you two feel about a little extraction?"

Cade came up beside Poe, his hip bumping against hers. "I'd say we're generally okay with the idea."

"Good," Max said smoothly. "Talk to Logan and he'll get you all the details." The Ordinary frowned. She was brushing him off, again. Guilt ate at her as she passed him by, headed for the door, but she didn't have time, didn't have the energy. She still had a whole lot of transgenics to appease, and as much as he'd have liked to be, Logan just wasn't a part of it.

--

Eight hours later, as the first pale pink strands of dawn ribboned their way through the black, a small group of transhumans pulled back a six foot section of chain link fence in the North-West corner of TC. The commotion, though it had died down, was mostly concentrated to the South and the main gate. Nobody noticed the old, sputtering gray van crawl through the fence line, its headlights doused because the scaly, green skinned man driving didn't need them to see.

As the van passed inside, another engine sputtered to life nearby, the deep purr of the motor threatening to roar loudly as soon as it was able. Max watched the van glide past like some sort of specter. She wanted to follow it, to assure herself with her own eyes that one of the number inside was alive and well, but she didn't allow herself to follow. She had to go while she still had cover of darkness. With a last, forlorn glance, Max pushed the Ninja through the hole in the fence, nodding to the transhumans, and then shot off into the night.

Mole drove a block further into the bowels of TC, parking the van beside a gray cement block building, brick red shingles dangling loosely from the highest set of windows three stories up. The rest had been stripped, presumably for firewood, though shelter was a possibility as well. Pez sat beside Mole on the passenger side, her left foot tucked beneath her, resting her elbow on the doorframe. Poe, Cade and Bart were huddled down in the back, crouched precariously around Alec, who lay stretched out on a door, doubling as a stretcher, which Mole had conveniently 'requisitioned.'

Bart kept a wary eye on the dark blonde transgenic. Already Alec looked irritated and restless, his fingers drumming impatiently on the floor. After he's woken, she'd practically had to sedate him to keep him from going after Max. But Bart kept a firm hand on her patients, because she's always had to, and Alec was no different. It didn't suit their natures to be immobile for very long; relying on someone else suited them even less.

"We there yet?" Alec bit out.

Bart shot him a withering look. "You sound like a bratty ten year old on a road trip." Well, at least his attitude was well on its way to recovery.

"What would you know about ten year olds and road trips?" Frowning, Bart answered him by flicking him in the ear. A small cleft formed between Alec's eyes, making him looked both annoyed and utterly incredulous. "We need to work on your bedside manner."

Bart arched an eyebrow. "My job is to fix you, nobody said I have to be nice while doing it."

"Believe me Bart," Alec uttered darkly, tilting back his chin to get a better look at her, "no one could mistake you for nice."

Cade chuckled softly, never stopping his light, subtle caress of Poe's arm. The black haired transgenic was staring at the back of the seat in front of her, Pez's seat. The fact that Pez had barely exchanged two words with her sister hadn't escaped his, or anyone else's, attention. In fact, as soon as Mole drew the van to a halt Pez was out the door, marching swiftly down the street. Poe threw Cade a worried glance and then went after her, out the sliding side door and over Alec's bandaged leg. "Hey!" Bart yelled after her, but Poe ignored the call.

"Unbelievable," Bart muttered. Alec propped himself up on his elbows. The medic shook her head and shoved him hard back down. "Forget it Alec." She jabbed her index finger into his chest. "No weight bearing for 48 hours, you hear me?"

Alec swatted her hand away. "Hey, hey! I just got stabbed here, how about being a little more careful?"

"You weren't stabbed in the chest," Bart observed blandly. "Nope, I want you on your back for two days." Almost immediately she slapped her palm over his growing smirk. "That's not what I meant," she growled. "I'm taking you to your apartment and you're going to bed like a good little patient, understand?"

He glowered and after a moment nodded beneath her hand. Bart lifted her palm. "You're not gonna be playing nurse maid are you?"

Bart looked like she was in physical pain. "If I did I might start to believe in euthanasia. No, I'm going to sleep, in my bed, just as soon as I go back to my infirmary-in-the-making and make sure no one else got stabbed."

"Shot," Cade corrected absently, paying more attention to Poe's receding back than to the conversation inside the van. "Glock got shot."

Two surprised sets of eyes turned to him. "What?" Bart practically screeched. "How the hell did he get shot?"

"I shot him," he said, completely unapologetic. Cade blinked, his mind registering for the first time the flabbergasted looks on the faces of Bart and Alec. Even Mole turned in his seat to look at Cade questioningly. "He deserved it." As if that explained everything.

Bart groaned. "That's just perfect." She stepped out of the van and let out a resigned sigh. "No rest for the wicked, or me."

Cade looked at her dubiously. "It has to be you? You mean to tell me that there's not one other trained X5 medic in TC?"

"No, there is." She rolled her eyes and rubbed a hand over her face. "But he's squeamish around blood."

"Squeamish?" the three men repeated in unison.

Throwing up her hands in a don't-I-know-it gesture, Bart started to walk away. "Preaching to the choir boys. You two carry Alec up to his apartment, and make sure he stays there! Two days Alec, you can make it two days. I find out you didn't and I will make you pay for it." Alec frowned because, somehow, he didn't doubt her.

--

Pez was walking fast, and Poe had to work to catch up with her. The clicking of their boot heels fell in unison as Poe got closer. Left, right, left , right, perfectly in step, twins to the last. "Pez." She didn't answer; she picked up her pace. Scowling, Poe matched her. "Pez," she said again, reaching out, having to stretch to grab hold of Pez's shoulder. "Damn it Pez would you just talk to me?" Her twin spun so fast to face her Poe almost ran her over.

"What?"

It occurred to Poe then that she hadn't really had a line of questioning in mind. "What's going on with you Pez?" she asked. Start with the general, work in from there.

"Nothing."

Poe gave a small grunt. "Yeah, I'm gonna have to call bullshit on that one. You've been tweaked for days now. What the hell Pez? You go on an op and you don't even tell me?"

"You're not my keeper." Anger dripped from Pez's tongue, and Poe was taken aback. She could count on one hand the times she'd ever seen Pez get truly angry, but this would have to go down as one of them. She just didn't understand where it was coming from.

"No, I'm your sister. I would have gone with you, had your back."

"You were busy." The word was like ice, sharp and cold.

Poe's jaw dropped open. "That's what this is? It's about Cade? I… I don't even know what to do with that."

"It's not about Cade," Pez said with a disdainful shake of her head. "You don't get it." Pex turned and started to walk away.

"That's because you won't tell me!" Poe yelled, frustrated. "Talk to me! I know Alec got hurt helping you out, but that wasn't your fault. It could have happened to anyone. I understand how you feel. We've all been there."

Poe watched Pez stiffen, stopping dead. Then she whirled, her face a dark mask. "Stop saying that! It's not just today Poe! It's everything! It's Manticore in my head! And no, it wouldn't have happened to anyone." Pez thrust a finger accusingly at Poe, and even in the dark Poe could see the sheen of tears in her sister's eyes. "And you don't understand! You can't, because you weren't there!" she choked out. Then her hand and voice both dropped. "I am defective. Just leave me alone." And with that, Pez blurred away, leaving Poe in the middle of the street, more confused than ever.

--

Bart had ordered Alec to bed rest for 48 hours; Alec made it twelve. He'd slept through most of the morning, his body still weak, his enhanced system concentrating most of its energy to repairs. In fact, he'd fully intended to follow Bart's instruction, until late in the afternoon, when whispered rumors of tanks and military personnel gathering outside the fence line reached his ears. He had to talk to Max, but she wasn't answering her cell. He tried not to dwell on the fact that she hadn't bothered to so much as poke her head in his door since he'd been back, even if just to make sure he was still breathing. But no, that didn't matter, and if he tried hard enough, he could almost convince himself he didn't care.

It was tricky business, getting to ones feet on only one leg without jarring the other, but Alec managed it with more ease than most. The damn thing hurt like hell though, and he wasn't dumb enough to actually try and put weight on it. The pain radiated up his leg in waves as he pushed himself up. Pain meds were still in short supply, and Bart had not dained to give him any, telling him before they'd left the Olympic that the wound didn't merit painkillers, especially if he stayed off his feet. Personally, Alec preferred to think of her as a sadist.

Joshua had brought an old, aluminum set of crutches by earlier, and these Alec took from their perch against the wall. They were too short for him and one of the legs had been bent and restraightened, though not altogether well, and he had to stoop to use them. Still, they were a means to an end and soon Alec was swinging down the hallway of his apartment building. The stairs presented a trickier problem, but soon they too were behind him.

Alec trudged doggedly across the expanse of TC, glad that the pain in his leg had indeed ebbed away, and the fact that no new pinprick of blood appeared on the bandage encasing his thigh. Bleeding out was not an experience he felt the need to revisit. Max's apartment was closer to his than HQ, so he went there first, though he didn't really expect to find her. Logan was housed only a couple doors down, but he wasn't home either. Alec briefly considered heading over to Joshua's on the East side, but quickly nixed the idea and headed for HQ.

Alec opened the door with the tip of a crutch, pushing it wide, which gave him just enough time to wedge his shoulder in the opening before it shut on him again. He slithered his way through, looking up to find Mole smirking at him. "What?"

"Red is going to murder you."

Alec decided to ignore the hint of glee in the lizard man's voice. "Where's Max?"

"Out," Mole replied. "Luke said she took off early on that bike of hers, told him she'd be back again after dark."

Well now that was just perfect. He'd trudged all the way across Terminal City only to have the object of his search gone. "Where'd she go?"

"Out," Mole repeated. Alec glowered. "Do I look like an info kiosk? I don't know, something about allies, cops, peace, blah, blah, blah. You know how she gets." Alec stifled a sigh. He really needed to have a talk with everyone about staying in the loop. "That Ordinary is in her office if you really want to know."

Actually, Alec did, much as he hated having to pry the information from Logan. He crutched over to Max's door and went inside. The faint aroma of liquor hit his nose when he went in, and he could see the top of Logan's head above the seat back of Max's chair. Logan's drinking? Logan's drinking scotch? Where the hell did he find scotch? Alec shook his head, must focus.

"Hey Log Buddy." Alec greeted, leaning forward onto the crutches.

"Alec," Logan spun the chair, setting a bottle on the desk top. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was mussed, well, more mussed.

"Hey, you know where Max was headed?"

Logan stood, shook his head and thrust his hands up. Amber liquid spilled over the rim of the glass to wet his shirtsleeve. "She went…talk to Clemente." The words were thick on his tongue. He came around the desk to stand near Alec, swaying a little as he did so. "Mmm surprised she didn't … tell you." God he was drunk. It would have been funny if it weren't so utterly pathetic. "You're her," he sighed, making air quotes with his hands, "second." Alec choked on a bubble of mirth, he couldn't help it.

"Well she left me in the dark on this one Logan, but I figure she told you her plan."

"No." Another sigh. Logan reached over with his left hand and grabbed Alec's bare forearm. "She doesn't… need me 'lec. She's got Dick on the 'puters," Alec didn't bother to correct the mistake to Dix's name, "and she's got you to talk to." Logan patted Alec's arm, licking his lips. "You, you she needs. Not me though." Logan's shoulders shook and he started to… giggle, really, Alec could think of no better word to describe the high pitched laughter rolling out of the hacker. Alec wasn't sure what was so funny.

"It's you," Logan said between laughs. "Always you. You… and virus. You and," Logan's head pitched back bonelessly as he stared at the ceiling, "this." Hiccup. "place." He looked like he was about to pitch over.

Okay, this officially transcended pathetic. "Get a grip Log," Alec told him. "You can't let her get to you like this. No chic is worth this."

Logan sat back up, eyeing Alec seriously. "Max is," he ground out. "An you… you know it." His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, "don't you?" Logan tried to swallow the knot in his throat to no avail. He stood, clearing his throat and pulling at the collar of his shirt. "Is hot," he declared. "Isn't it hot?"

"It's called being hammered Logan."

"No," Logan waved a hand at him. It wasn't just hot; it was burning. His tongue was swollen; he couldn't swallow. "It's…" his knees buckled, but he caught himself on the desk. A wave of dizziness hit him. At this Alec sat up a bit straighter. Something was wrong. Blue eyes met hazel in a brief flash of clarity, and Alec saw the panic there. "Trans…fusion." It hit Alec like a rock. He jumped up on his good leg.

"Shit," the two said in unison, right before Logan hit the floor.

--

Chapter 11

I thought this chapter would be good to flush out some of the minor characters a bit more. Pez evolved so easily to me, I needed to get in and flesh out her relationship with Poe a little more, so it ended up being a bit longer than expected. Hopefully the end was a bit of an unexpected twist for you. Enjoy, please continue reading and reviewing, thanks!