3.
They helped Normal up. "That...that should have been
delivered!" he cried, shaking his finger at the box
on the counter. "You had no right!" he informed Max.
"No right!" Then he whirled around to face Sketchy,
who was poking the organ with a pencil and evoking
squishy sounds from it. "Why wasn't this package
delivered?"
"Emergency," Sketchy said with a shrug, his attention
still firmly focused on the decomposing organ. He
turned to Original Cindy. "You know, my mom always
wanted me to become a doctor."
"That is too scary to even contemplate," Original
Cindy said.
Sketchy grinned. "Still, it's kind of cool, isn't
it?" He poked a little harder and the tissue split.
"Radical!"
Herbal removed the pencil from Sketchy's hand. "What
you are doing is wrong, mon. That somebody's heart,
their soul. You don't mess with a mon's soul!"
Gently he picked up the two halves of the box with
both hands and carried them over to the trash bin,
where he deposited it and then turned around,
crossing his arms. Guarding it, with a challenging
look on his face.
"Sorry, dude," Sketchy said and started to slink
away.
"Not so fast," Normal said, catching Sketchy's
collar. "That was supposed to be delivered! Do you
have any idea how much money you just knifed and
poked and oozed? Do you?!"
Sketchy looked at him interestedly, as did Original
Cindy, as did Max. "Yeah, how much do you make per
delivery, Normal?" Max inquired.
"I was going to, ahem, share the wealth, if you
hadn't screwed it up so badly!" Normal yelled. Then
he broke away from them and went to hide behind the
counter.
Max's pager sounded. "Gotta blaze," she said,
grabbing her bicycle. She really wanted to talk to
Logan, and since he'd summoned, she might as well
answer.
_ _ _
Max poked her head into Logan's apartment. "Anybody
home?" She pushed the door open and walked inside.
The TV was on. It took her a few seconds to see Logan
seated on the couch, remote control in his hand,
eyebrows furrowed in thought as he reversed the
images on the screen and then played them.
He was obsessing about the cable hack. Predictable,
Max thought. "Your girlfriend here?"
"Girlfriend?" Logan asked. He didn't turn to look at
her, and his usually bemused tone was clouded.
"You know, the chick who was busy trying to suck your
face off earlier. Oh, wait, should I have tried to
save you from her? You weren't hurt, were you?" Max
asked innocently.
"Oh, Gretchen," Logan said distractedly. Gee, I'm
glad I'm not his girlfriend if she means that much to
him, Max thought and really wished she could get the
sarcastic jealous bitch out of her head. "Max, what
do you think about this?" He started the Outlaw's
cable hack playing again.
Max scanned the room. "Where's Bling?"
"I sent him out for baking soda. It'll take him at
least an hour to track some down," Logan replied,
then looked at Max for the first time since she'd
walked in. "Seriously, what do you think?"
"I think somebody's out to make you look like a
liar." She'd always been gifted at stating the
obvious.
"Why?" Logan asked.
"Because you're right. People trust you. You're the
last free voice left in the city," Max responded.
"You think it's the government."
"Or somebody who's not too keen on free voices," Max
responded. "They can't figure out who you are, so
they can't whack you, so discrediting you's the next
best thing. Who gave you the information on Salter,
by the way?"
"A friend."
"A friend who was sucking your face off earlier?" Max
asked brightly, covering the twingey pain she was
busy not acknowledging.
"Keep it up and I'll begin to think you're jealous,"
Logan said, finally shutting off the tape and setting
the control aside.
Max scoffed at the notion.
"I should have checked my sources more carefully
before I went to broadcast with it," Logan admitted.
"The Outlaw was right. I jumped the gun. I wanted to
see evil, even when none existed."
Typical Logan, blaming himself for everything. Max
wasn't in the mood to cheer him up. Maybe his new
girlfriend could manage that one. "Anyway, the dude
with the bar code. I went to see him in the
hospital."
"How is he?" Logan asked, forthright as usual.
"He died," Max said. "I got his file."
"This should make interesting reading," Logan said,
taking the folder from her. "Do you think he was
Manticore?"
Max shrugged. "It would make sense. The guy had been
butchered for parts, and Lydecker said Manticore kids
were valuable, dead or alive."
"Sounds like there's a 'but' in there somewhere,"
Logan diagnosed.
"I just didn't get that feeling...you know...that he
was one of us," Max said. "But what other reason
would there be?"
"Organ for transplant have always sold on the black
market," Logan said and flipped the folder open. His
lips curled with disgust. Maybe she should have
warned him.
"But why the barcode?"
"That would be the question," Logan said. "You up for
a little investigation?"
Max checked the time on her pager. "My lunch break's
almost over, but I'll see what I can swing."
"I'll look into this. See if there have been any
other cases, whether they had bar codes," Logan said,
closing the file and setting it across his knees. It
wasn't the kind of thing you wanted your bodyguard
slash butler to come across while he was
straightening the living room.
"Hey Max," Logan called to her and she stopped by the
door. "Dinner?"
"You sure you don't have other plans?"
"I'm sure," he replied.
"I'll put in an effort," Max replied. They both knew
she'd be there. Free food was a great incentive.
_ _ _
"More?" Max asked as Normal loaded her up with
several more ice-cold packages back at Jam Pony.
"Now that you all know the urgency in delivering
these items, there should be no trouble. None,"
Normal informed her.
Max rolled her eyes, but started shoving them into
her backpack. With a 30-minute turnaround time, at
least she could get it done quickly. Too bad no one
had told the people in this city that a tip to a
messenger was a good thing indeed. "Hey, Normal,
there's no return address on any of these," she
noted.
"That's because no one's going to be returning them.
They're going to be delivering them. This is a
delivery service."
"Where do these packages come from, anyway?" Max
asked, but got no reply as Normal had returned to
disinfecting the counter area with copious amounts of
bleach. She shrugged and got on her bike, pedaling
out to the street.
"Makes you miss the days of delivering pornography,
don't it?" Herbal rode up next to her, and Max
smiled.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Something about this is just
creepy and not right."
"The wicked always get their supper," Herbal said
knowingly. "Which way you going?"
"City Hospital. You?"
"I got a split load, the hospital and the art
gallery," Herbal told her. "And it being so far and
me with my lady ailin' with a poor tooth."
Max nodded. "I hear ya." She put her foot down to
balance her bike as she swung her backpack from her
shoulders. "You do the 30-minute hospital run, I'll
take the lengthy gallery run, call it even?"
"Karma will heap sweet rewards upon you, woman,"
Herbal said.
"I hope so," Max said, trading packages with her
friend and then setting off for the gallery.
_ _ _
Max was tired and she was hungry. Nice of Logan to
offer up dinner, although her side trip to the
gallery hadn't exactly uncovered much concerning
Manticore or the Outlaw. Except that everyone in the
streets was talking about the Outlaw. They were also
talking about Eyes Only, but the words they used were
ones she was certain Logan wouldn't want to hear.
No Original Cindy and no Sketchy. Must be making one
last quick run, she thought. Normal was working them
hard and she knew he'd be keeping all the profit. She
looked up just as a man in expensive yet casual
clothes walked in. Normal practically bowed an then
licked his feet., then showed him into the back
office. The door closed soundly and Max heard the
locks fall into place. She glanced around. No other
messengers. Interesting.
Back to her original thought: if these packages were
on the up and up, they'd have return addresses and
they wouldn't be using a service like Jam Pony. She
glanced back at the door, then stepped behind the
counter, quickly going through the papers gathered
there.
She found a contract signed by Caduceus LLC. Address
down by the waterfront. Not exactly the business
district. She noted the pertinent information and put
the paper back where she'd gotten it from, glancing
to see the door was still closed as she made her
exit.
_ _ _
"Damn, girl, where you going dressed like that?"
Kendra inquired.
"I've got a date," Max informed her.
"Rich boyfriend likes it kinky, huh?" Kendra asked,
flipping back her pale blond hair.
Max shook her head, then skimmed her hands down the
tight sheen of the practically painted-on pants she
was wearing.
"Didn't think he seemed the type," Kendra continued.
"Think you can snag us some dish soap?"
"Dish soap. Check. I'll see what I can do." Max put
on her sunglasses - which she only ever wore when she
was riding her bike at night - and headed out with
her motorcycle, feeling smug and confident.
_ _ _
It was definitely a waterfront warehouse, Max noted,
standing there deciding on the best way to get
inside. It might just be easier to break in, she
thought, looking at the row of mostly broken windows
at the top of the facility. But why would she want to
put a perfectly good outfit to waste?
She knocked on the door and put on her innocent, dumb
doe-eyed expression. As predicted, a middle aged,
unattractive man came to the door. Why was it they
were always middle aged and unattractive? It just
made her job that much easier. "Hi," she said
breathlessly. "I was sent to see Richard Bakehous."
The man who'd signed the contract.
"Who sent you?" the guy asked, his eyes flicking
rapidly over her body. She expected drool at any
moment. It was sickening.
Max frowned, like she working real hard to think but
it was just too tough. "Oh, gee, what was his name?"
she asked. "I think it started with an S? Or maybe a
C...?"
The middle-aged doorman looked at her doubtfully,
then opened the door more widely. "Rick's in a
meeting. You can keep me company till he's done." He
stood there with the door open waiting for her to
come in. Max checked her mental map of exits and ways
out, then graciously stepped inside.
The place was pristine and brightly lit, in contrast
to its scuzzball exterior. Max looked around, big-
eyed. "What do you do here?" The middle aged dude
looked at her sharply. She put her hand against his
arm and stroked it gently. "I mean, it must be
awfully big and important."
"Confidential," he told her, sitting down at a desk
near the door. There were cards shuffled there. They
must not get a lot of visitors. He caught her
checking out the cards. "You want to play?"
"Oh, I only know games like Go Fish," Max said.
"I love Go Fish!" The guy's face lit up and he
gathered the cards into a pile, preparing to
distribute them.
"Me too," Max said. Then she squirmed in her chair.
"You guys got any facilities I can use?"
The guy looked at her.
"Please, it's a long way from town and when a girl's
gotta go..."
"Up those stairs." The guy motioned with the pack of
cards. "First door on the left."
"Thanks," she said and hurried a few steps with an
intriguing wiggle. Then she stopped and looked back
at him.
"First door. Left."
She nodded, then sprinted up the stairs. For good
measure, she pushed open the door to the bathroom and
looked around. No window, no means of escape. Then
she quietly let the door fall closed and turned to
see what else was there.
She heard voices. Must be Rick's meeting, she
thought, taking a few silent steps in that direction,
focusing her ears on the sound. "People are going to
start noticing."
"Don't worry. I've told the boys to be more subtle.
And careful. That's the least of our worries."
Max walked past the room where the voices were coming
from and pushed open another door. It was dark, but
there were lights coming from inside. It was a small
viewing room, and Max walked over to the window and
looked down where the lights were coming from.
Below her was an operating room. It wasn't very high-
tech in itself, but the equipment scattered around
was definitely hospital-quality. Boxes were stacked
in one corner and she squinted, but the labels had
mostly been ripped from them.
She wondered if Lydecker had a room like this. Not
the OR - she knew he had But a room like this, high
above, where people could watch. She started to feel
a little shaky, standing there, looking down. Somehow
she could just see it...government types gathered
there, Lydecker smirking, one of the kids lying on
the gurney...
Maybe Manticore was involved. Probably no way to find
out for sure.
Max started back the way she'd came and started
listening to the conversation again. "After what
that hack said, people are going to be looking into
medical supplies. And not just City Hospital," the
man said.
"No one's going to take that guy seriously. I took
care of it." The woman.
Max pushed open the door of the observation room and
edged out into the hallway. Just then, the door to
the next room, where the man and the woman were
talking, opened. "I don't think he's going to be
that easy to get rid of," the man said, turning back.
Max took a couple of sneaky steps, but she knew they
were going to catch her. Just a fit of bad timing.
"He'll be easier than you think," the woman said with
a toss of her blond hair. Max stopped and looked at
her, recognizing her with a bit of surprise. Logan
was gonna hate to hear about this. He was gonna start
thinking she was the possessive type, the way she had
to keep breaking it to him that all his girlfriends
were on the take.
"What are you doing up here?" the man demanded.
"Richard Bakehous, I presume," Max said and gave him
a swift elbow to the face.
He howled with pain as his knees buckled and he sat
down hard on the floor. "OW! That was my nose!"
Max hit him again, this time hard enough to knock the
wind out of him. "And those were your ribs," she
replied, turning to the woman.
"You don't --"
"Yeah, I think I do," Max told her, and one strong
right hook knocked her out. Wimp.
"Hey boss -" the thug from downstairs called.
One more for the road, Max thought, listening to the
man wheeze his way up the stairs. Some bodyguard he
was. She met him at the top of the rickety staircase,
bracing herself with both hands on the railings. She
lifted her body and kicked the bodyguard. He fell
backward and she leapt the rest of the way down,
landing neatly on her feet.
She wanted to have a quick look around, but something
told her that would be less than wise. For all she
knew, Wheezy had already called the cops. And Max
didn't really like the cops. They tended to take
things too seriously. Like it was their job or
something.
"I'd stop right there if I were you." The woman's
voice came from the top of the stairs.
"You only wish you were me," Max sniped over her
shoulder at Logan's ladyfriend, who had a pistol in
her hand.
"I thought the voice sounded familiar." The woman
finished walking down the stairs and approached Max
with the gun aimed directly at her.
"Score one for you," Max said sarcastically. "But I
don't think it's gonna win you any points when I tell
Logan what your deal really is."
"I guess I'll just have to keep you from telling
him," the woman said.
"You might want to be careful with that thing, it
might go off," Max warned her. She didn't like guns.
But the woman was more nervous than she cared to let
on, and Max knew it was easy to take down an enemy
who was afraid of you. Their fear did your job for
you.
Max circled around her, waiting for an opportunity,
an opening, anything.
"That would be a shame, wouldn't it." Funny, she
didn't sound like she thought it would be a shame.
There was the sound of a truck from outside and then
the springing of a lock on the warehouse door. It
caught both their attention, but Max was faster. She
got in a punch and then wrenched the gun away from
the older woman.
But the bitch wouldn't give up. Once Max had the
gun, the woman followed her, and used her body weight
to slam Max against the desk. "Give that back to me,"
the woman snarled.
"You forgot to say please," Max replied, trying to
thumb the safety back on the gun so it wouldn't
accidentally go off. It was difficult when she had no
room to maneuver or breathe, the steel of the desk
digging into her rib cage.
She skittered the gun away from them, knowing the
woman would go after it. She did, and Max whirled
around and grabbed her arm. But the woman must have
anticipated the move, because she shoved Max's head
against the desk and pinned her.
"What's this?" Max felt the woman's fingers on the
back of her neck, but remained perfectly still,
knowing if she did so the woman would loosen her
grip. "Looks like somebody's done part of our work
for us."
"What's going on here?" The voice, along with the
sudden blast of cold air, told Max whoever was
outside was now inside. Max lurched up and back and
threw Gretchen to the floor.
"Sketchy?" Max inquired, wrinkling her nose in
surprise at seeing her friend, his hands tied
together with a plastic cord, controlled by the man
standing there in expensive yet casual clothes. The
man she'd seen meeting with Normal.
"I didn't know, Max, I swear," Sketchy said. "I was
just in it for the money."
"What money?" Max asked, eyeing the man in the suit.
Figured Sketchy would end up involved in something
like this. She glanced at him and saw he was on the
verge of freaking out, but she saw something else -
his skin was pale and his pupils were dilated.
"What'd you give him?"
"Just a sedative," the man replied. He started to
smile and Max moved to pop him one, except there was
a pinprick in her ass and she knew she'd just been
given a nice healthy dose of sedative herself.
"Gotcha," the man said smugly.
_ _ _