Disclaimer: Let's see... Yep, I still don't own Dark Angel.
Story: It's (finally!) 'Go' time with 452's mission.
A/N: Hi, guys! Here's the next installment. Thanks a ton to dooski and timetowaste247 for the reviews from last chap! As you know, it's greatly appreciated!

Chapter 11

452 sat at her monitor, watching her target's house and trying to pick up on any security or any movement patterns she might be able to determine at the last minute. Really, that was what she was down to. Last day. I have to get this right.

She had a plausible plan of action to go by, after trying to work one out all throughout the late night and early morning hours spent in that dirty old building. At least no one had found her during the night she had stayed there. It had served its purpose, and now 452 had to serve hers.

The plan was simple, really. That night she had to gain access to the house, but picking a lock was child's play for 452. Manticore had made sure of that. Then, she would eliminate the target in his sleep, quickly and noiselessly. Once all of that was done, she could return to Manticore to... To what? Wait around for my next murderous assignment?

Whatever Manticore had in store for her next didn't matter at the moment. The only thing that mattered was her mission. Now, all she had to do was wait for nightfall and the cover of darkness.

"He's just there, outside the city perimeter." Luke pointed to the end of the tunnel as he walked with Alec.

Mole grunted around his cigar. "There was no way we were gonna let him inside to see the CO without an escort, like he was askin' for."

"He specifically asked to see me? Alone?" Alec asked.

"Well... sort of," Dix answered. "He said he needed to speak with the leader, not 'the CO', and he said he needed to talk to her in private."

Alec frowned. "Did he give his name? Or his designation? Anything?"

Mole shook his head. "The guy seemed pretty paranoid. He doesn't trust us enough to talk to anyone but Max."

Alec snorted. "Well, that's a bit of a problem right now, isn't it? I'm sure we'd all like to talk to Max, but this guy'll have to settle for me."

As they got closer to the gates at the tunnel's entrance, Luke piped up again. "That's him, talkin' to the guard. Phew! Looks like he hasn't caused any trouble yet."

Alec froze when he saw the young man waiting with the guards. "Zack?" he said softly to himself. His rotten mood dissolved into curiosity and surprise. Zack was supposed to be on some ranch, wasn't he? What was he doing at Terminal City? Alec shook off his questions and jogged toward the gate.

Zack looked up at Alec when he saw him drawing nearer. "Are you in charge here? There's someone in there I need to speak with."

Alec hesitated before answering. It seemed that Zack had no idea who he was talking to. "And who exactly are you?" he asked carefully, even though he knew the answer.

"My name's Adam Thompson. I work at a ranch a few miles from the city limits." He paused. "Well, I used to, anyway... But I have to see this girl." He held up a newspaper with Max's picture on it.

The paper was outdated, but Zack... Adam, whatever... didn't seem to know this. At least he trusts me enough to tell me about his situation. Even if he doesn't remember having me in a deadly choke-hold that one time...

Alec scratched the back of his neck nervously, wondering how to handle this situation. "Ah, she's not here right now..."

Zack looked disappointed and a little worried. "Well, where is she, then?"

Alec looked at his three companions for some guidance. Dix stepped forward. "Actually, we aren't exactly sure where she is. She's been missing for more than three months."

Zack shook his head in horrified denial. "No, no! You don't understand. I need to see her. I have to talk to her! Please, it's very important!"

"Look, kid, she ain't here. We can't do a damned thing about it. So either you tell us what you need from her and see if we can help you instead, or you go back to your ranch. Got it?" said a testy Mole around his cigar.

Zack glared. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Alec sighed wearily. "You don't. But something made you come here, Za- ah, Adam. Max isn't here, but she left me in charge, so you can tell me whatever it was you needed to tell her." He fervently hoped it had nothing to do with Brother Zack's rather un-brotherly feelings towards his sister. No way was Alec gonna get in the middle of that!

"Max...," Zack's whisper trailed off in a tone akin to awe. He stared at the ground, apparently lost in thought. Alec began to silently curse himself for letting Max's name slip out.

After waiting for a response for half a minute, Mole grunted, which jolted Zack back to earth as his eyes snapped up.

Zack glanced at the others and then turned to face Alec. He opened his mouth to speak, but as he looked into Alec's face, his eyes locked onto Alec's for the first time, and no sound escaped his lips. He slowly closed his mouth with an expression of wonder and curiosity spreading across his stony features. Zack's eyes held a question, to which he decided to give voice. "Do I... know you? You look... very familiar..."

Alec kept his expression unreadable. He didn't know how to answer Zack. Should he tell him what could prove to be a rather traumatic truth, one Alec personally felt Max should be the one to impart on her brother? It's not my place to make this choice, damnit!

Dix, Mole, and Luke were all looking questioningly at their CO. Alec gazed up at the sky to avoid their stares more than anything else. Watching the fiery red glare of the last sliver of sunlight gradually slip behind the evening horizon was soothing and helped him slow his racing thoughts. As he lost himself in the early stars winking in the darkening sky, he let his mind wander.

So Zack doesn't remember... anything. I may look familiar, but he's confused by me. He doesn't know who or what he is, but he can cling to the distant memory of Max... Well, she's his sister, dummy! Plus, he's got that thing for her... OK! Moving away from that line of thought...

"Sir! There's an urgent phone call you need to take!"

Alec spun around to see the panting X6 messenger skid to a stop. Apparently, he had sprinted there all the way from HQ, and that was quite a distance, even for a transgenic. Perhaps it really was urgent.

Still, Alec was getting interrupted for the third time in one day, and it was grating on his last nerve. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What is it this time? Some transgenic cat I have to rescue from a tree? Oh, or maybe yet another uprising in Terminal City. Hm? Did the government decide to nuke the whole city and damn the consequences?"

Not at all thrown off by Alec's sarcasm, the X6 held out an open cell phone and answered with a straight face, "No, Sir. It's a personal contact, Asha Barlow. She said it's about Max."

452 looked up to the sky and saw the last red glare of the sun sink behind the horizon, leaving a burning line imprinted temporarily in the memory of her eyes. She blinked it away and took some comfort in the stars of the early evening winking at her. 452 could almost forget what she was about to do, looking at the beauty of the night sky. Almost.

452 sighed and turned to face the other side of the street. The house loomed at her in the dark, its black windows absorbing all the light around it, leaving it encased in a shell of inky dread. She reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and gripped the hilt of the knife, just to reassure herself, and casually strolled across the street.

After a furtive glance at her surroundings, 452 picked the lock to the front door and easily slipped inside, silently closing the door behind her. She moved as noiselessly as a phantom across the room as her eyes adjusted to the absence of light.

The floor was littered with food wrappers and the occasional computer part, and 452 scanned the floor quickly before moving ahead with caution, careful not to alert her prey to her presence. Hm. For having a live-in girlfriend, mister Eyes Only keeps a pretty messy pad. She scanned the rest of the room and found nothing of importance, so she proceeded to the stairs.

452 prayed silently that the stairs weren't the horror-movie squeaky kind. Looking at the rest of the house, it really wouldn't surprise her.

She got to the top of the stairs and froze. Someone was out of bed! 452 strained her ears to pick up the unmistakable sounds of somebody using the bathroom. Oh, great! Just what I need! 452 tried as hard as she could to disappear into the shadows, but invisibility was one skill that Manticore had failed to splice her DNA with. She settled with standing stone-still and holding her breath.

Soon enough, a door opened and light flooded into the hallway from the bathroom down the hall. The skinny girlfriend from before stepped out and rubbed her eyes as she made her way towards her bedroom. She's blonde. The thought irritated 452 for some reason.

She waited until the door was firmly closed and counted to thirty slowly before daring to make another move. 452 slunk away from the staircase and padded down the hall to the other bedroom in the upstairs hallway. One of her black-gloved hands reached out for the doorknob and turned it gently while easing the door open with the other hand. The door made a soft squeak once and then no more sound came to 452's ears except the steady rhythm of her target's breathing, sound asleep.

She crept up to the bedside and peered down at her target, lying peacefully in his bed. His glasses rested on the bedside table, along with a bottle of sleeping pills and an empty glass for water. As 452 gazed at the sleeping figure, he rolled over in the bed and resettled his head on the white pillow.

His face looked drawn and tired, and it looked as if he hadn't shaved for a day or two, but for some reason, that seemed normal to 452. Picturing him without the scruffy beard just seemed... wrong. He turned in his sleep again, this time to face away from 452. She felt rooted to the spot. It's now or never, girl!

452 pulled the knife out of her pocket and crept closer to the man she was sent to kill. She lowered the knife carefully toward his back, planning to stab through him to his heart so that he'd die quickly and she could leave.

452 pulled the knife back towards her to get more force behind the stab. She started to thrust the weapon forward when the noise she heard behind her made her stop abruptly. 452 knew all too well the sound of a gun cocking behind her head.

"Move and you're dead," came a woman's angry voice. 452 raised her arms up slowly and turned around to face the skinny blonde. The girl's face melted into a mask of shock. "Max! Oh my god! What are you doing?"

452 stared at her in horror and confusion. What did she call me? Obviously, the girl recognized her. Panic seized 452. She couldn't fail, not when she had come so close. No, no, NO! I have to complete my mission! Blondie's gotta go! With that, 452 snapped out of it and kicked the gun out of the girl's hands, sending it skidding into the bathroom across the hall.

452 turned back to finish off Cale. The blonde grabbed her arm in a stiff grip. 452 gave her a warning look. "Back off, Blondie!"

"Max! What do you think you're doing?"

"I think I'm the one holdin' the knife, so you'd better get offa me right now!"

"I can't let you hurt Logan!" the girl yelled while trying to pry the knife out of 452's grip.

452 let out a low laugh. "And just what're you gonna do? Whine me to death?"

"Max?"

Irritation fled in an instant, replaced by dread at the thought of her mission gone so badly awry, and 452 spun around to face the bed where her target, who was supposed to unwittingly be in his final hour, was now sitting up and staring at her in wonder. He looked like he was seeing a ghost, but he was anything but scared. The look he gave her could only be described as reverent, like a dream had finally come true. And 452 could only look on in dull terror of the task at hand.

I have to do this before things get any worse! 452 aimed a kick straight back behind her at Blondie and lunged at Logan in one fluid motion. She heard Blondie grunt in pain and saw Logan's already wide eyes widen even further and twinge with fear, looking as if they could pop right out of his head with the slightest movement.

Logan tumbled out of his bed and 452 landed on top, pinning his free hands down with her black-gloved ones. She quickly transferred both wrists to one of her slender hands in a bruising grip and used her other hand to fetch the slim blade from her pocket. She raised the knife and held it poised tightly over his chest. She willed her hand to make the swift downward plunge, but it seemed 452 had lost control of her own body. The knife, and the gloved hand holding it, hung suspended in midair.

452 lost herself in the man's blue eyes. As she knelt on top of him, effectively cutting off all movement, his eyes pleaded with her and questioned her with hurt and betrayal, amongst a myriad of other emotions she would probably call 'love', 'joy', and 'relief', if she knew what they looked like or if in her mind she could put them in the eyes of a man with a knife held to his chest. Confusion and happiness, pain and excitement, fear and awe. It swallowed her whole.

Once she was totally submerged, the memories assaulted her in the same way they had before, washing over her like a tsunami and leaving her bare and vulnerable. Images of the man before her chased each other, flashes of him dancing with her, smiling, laughing, holding a gun to himself, blocking a doorway with a bottle of liquor in hand, stroking her face, kissing her, playing pool, Eyes Only, Streaming Freedom Video Bul... Too much! Too much! Make it stop!!

452 snapped out of her trance and heard a cell phone snap shut. Cold sweat dripped down her face as she spun to see a frightened Blondie pocketing the phone. 452's expression of fear and confusion made Blondie soften a little. She looked like she felt sorry for 452, like she was considering the consequences of trying to physically comfort her.

Having that Ordinary girl look at her that way was more than 452 could take. Without warning, she threw the knife into the wall behind Logan's head with a loud thchunk!, making him sqeeze his eyes shut in alarm,and stood up, stifling the urge to steady herself with a hand on the wall. No sound surfaced in the room. It was as if no one even dared to breathe, and the tension in the air was palpable.

Blondie and Logan stared at 452 in wonder and terror as she stood erect in the middle of the room, not really seeing anything as she gathered her wits. The mission! Remember your mission! You can still do it! Who needs a knife? Smother him with the pillow, o-or snap his neck! Anything! Just KILL HIM!

For an instant, colors swirled in her head once more, a flash of the memories from before, finished in the blink of an eye.

I can't do it.

That simple thought was all it took. Eyes front, she quickly walked out through the bedroom doorway without a backward glance at Blondie or at the man she just couldn't kill.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading this! I really hope you liked it. If not, that's cool, too. Regardless, if you feel so inclined, reviews would seriously make my Christmas brighter! And help spur on the next chapter, which I predict will include the first real Max and Alec encounter that you've all been waiting for. If you don't hear from me soon, have a wonderful Christmas! It's definitely my favorite holiday. Who wouldn't love two weeks off from school? Well, see ya next chapter!

--Christique