4.
"Damn," Max whined, rolling forward limply as though
she'd been instantly affected by the knockout drops.
"Looks like you let things get out of hand,
Gretchen," the man said.
"No, the security guard you hired let things get out
of hand, Roger. But it worked out for the best. Now
we have two healthy young specimens to make our quota
for the week. This one's a real fighter." Gretchen
nudged Max with her foot and Max resisted the urge to
bite it off.
"Hadn't you better go make sure our friend is taken
care of?" Roger inquired. "He's expecting you, isn't
he?"
Gretchen nodded. "I'll be back in two hours. Maybe
less."
"I'll try to save some of the fun till you get back,"
Roger told her.
"Please don't," she requested. Another blast of cold
air and the door slammed shut.
_ _ _
Logan was worried about Max. He replaced the phone
after paging her for the 30th time in 5 minutes.
Well, not really, it just felt that way. It wasn't
that he had a problem with her standing him up for
dinner. He just had a very bad feeling she'd gone and
gotten herself into danger.
How unlike Max that would be, he thought.
"You're worried about her," Bling diagnosed.
Logan shot him a droll look.
"She's a big girl. She can take care of herself."
More than you know, Logan thought, but said nothing.
"Besides, you wouldn't want her to run into your
other friend. Isn't she supposed to be here at
eight?"
Logan blinked. In all the excitement of the copycat
hacker, he'd almost forgotten about Gretchen. Which
was, now that he thought about it, one of the primary
reasons for their relationships' initial failure.
He'd get obsessed and she would feel forgotten. At
least Max wasn't that insecure.
The doorbell chimed. "That must be her now," Logan
commented, wheeling over to the door. "What happened
to you?" he asked Gretchen, who was standing there
with a black eye and a bloody split lip.
_ _ _
Max was still biding her time. Irritatingly, Roger
didn't seem to mind leaving her lying on the floor.
"Max!" Sketchy cried and she wanted to tell him it
was going to be okay. Even though that was a lie,
since he'd probably just go off and get involved with
the Russian Mafia for an easy $20. Oh wait, he'd
already done that.
Max counted to fifty to make sure they weren't coming
back, then picked herself up from the floor. She
dusted the dirt from her pants, but knew there was
going to be no way to repair the hole from the needle
they'd injected her with. Must have been some kind of
serotonin something sedative because she was feeling
pretty good.
Instead of heading into the operating room, she
headed up the stairs. Just barging in there would be
so plain and boring. As there frequently were in old
abandoned warehouses, she found a coil of rope under
the stairs and brought it with her, up to the
observation room.
She looked down and saw the good doctor Roger had
Sketchy laid out on the operating table and was
setting out his supplies - several sharp, shiny
instruments, and a row of plastic boxes with dry ice
foaming from inside them.
Max uncoiled the rope, lassoing it around a ceiling
beam and pulling it taut. Ready to go.
_ _ _
"Oh, Logan, it was terrible, you have no idea,"
Gretchen cried, throwing herself at him and sobbing
against his chest.
Bling cleared his throat and politely left the room.
"Who hurt you?" Logan asked her, but Gretchen just
sobbed louder. "Ssh," he told her, stroking her
hair. "It's okay."
_ _ _
Max broke through the window feet-first, shattering
the mirrored one-way glass. She swung on the rope and
then dropped herself down into the operating theater.
Roger stood there with his mouth hanging open.
"Whatsa matter, you never seen a supergirl fly
before?" Max asked him.
"My hero," Sketchy said before he passed out on the
table.
"It's a good racket, isn't it Roger?" Max asked him
as he recovered his senses and realized he had a
surgical scalpel in his hand. "First you got into
black market medical supplies. Then you figured, what
the hell? Organs are supplies too, aren't they? And
they bring in way more dough."
Roger slashed at her with the knife, but Max was
faster and trained in evasive maneuvers. She was just
talking to keep him from focusing his entire
attention on the fight.
"What the hell are you?" he demanded. "That syringe
had enough chemicals in it to induce a coma. You
should be brain dead by now."
"That's the thing, Rog," Max said. "I guess you never
considered what people were doing with those parts
once they got them from you. Put em all together and
it adds up to quite a package, don't it?" She modeled
for him slightly and he looked like he was going to
be sick. She grabbed the lapels of his lab coat and
drew him close to her to demand, "I just want to know
why you barcode 'em when you're done with 'em."
"To keep track," he replied and Max had never seen
eyes so cold or evil. She tossed him away from her
in disgust.
"Boss, there's an intruder -" The security guard had
woken from naptime. Max whirled around and Roger took
a step, but the security guard had already pulled the
trigger. His blood spattered the security guard, who
stood there with the gun lowered, trembling as he
stared at his dead boss.
He looked at Max. "I didn't -"
"There's still time to get away," she told him. He
turned and ran like the coward he was. She heard him
wheeze and then the door slammed. Max turned back
and stepped over Roger's body to get to Sketchy, who
was murmuring but completely out of it. She picked
him up and slung his arm around her shoulders. She'd
drop a dime to the cops, but she figured by the time
they got around to checking it out Rick Bakehous
would have cut and run - and probably taken the
valuable parts of Roger Salter's body with him.
_ _ _
Logan poured Gretchen another glass of wine and
contemplated her across the table. She still looked
pretty bad. "You can stay here tonight. The guest
room's been made up. I've made arrangements for you
to travel tomorrow. Your new name is going to be
Lorraine Wildham."
"Lorraine," Gretchen smiled. The smile faded quickly,
though. "I can't thank you enough for everything
you've done for me," she told him.
Logan just nodded. "Maybe you should get some rest."
"Maybe I should." Gretchen rose from the table and
went down the hall.
Logan put his head down and sighed. He really hated
being lied to.
_ _ _
"Oh my god, Max? What happened?" Sweet Natalie, with
her hair in little baby barrettes, panicked when she
saw Max at the door.
"I think he had a little too much, if you know what I
mean," Max said.
"Baby?" Sketchy said, rousing to see his fiancée.
"You have to stop doing this to yourself, sweetums,"
Natalie said, taking Sketchy's hand and wrapping it
around her own shoulders. "Thanks for brining him
home."
"I'd just let him sleep it off," Max advised her.
Natalie nodded and closed the door to the apartment.
Max stood there for a second, thinking of domestic
bliss. Not that Sketchy was her idea of domestic
bliss - not even close - but just the thought of
having someone there, waiting when you got home,
dinner on the table.
Dinner. Logan. She'd completely forgotten.
_ _ _
"Logan, I am so sorry, I was in the middle of
something and..." Max was already apologizing as she
walked through the door.
He was staring out the window. Like he always did
when he was brooding.
"You okay?" Max asked, stopping several paces behind
him.
He nodded, raising his eyebrows as he looked at her.
"I've got bad news for you. About your friend, the
one who was here --"
"I know," Logan said with a nod.
Max just looked at him, surprised.
"Detective Sung was just here. They have a nice, cozy
cell with her name on it."
"I'm sorry," Max offered, but it wasn't worth much.
Logan nodded his appreciation, then went back to
staring out the window. "Logan -" she began.
"Leftovers in the fridge," he interrupted.
Max was tempted, but she didn't want to leave him
there. "Hey," she said, touching his shoulder and
coming around to face him.
"It's just so embarrassing, you know?" he said,
taking off his glasses and polishing them on his
shirt so he wouldn't have to face her. "Do I have
'Sucker' written on my forehead? Everybody who
crosses that threshold tries to play me, and now when
they come in I don't even try to help them. I see
right through it."
"World's an ugly place," Max said.
"Don't spout truisms at me, Max," Logan warned her,
then let his anger collapse with a heavy sigh.
Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe he needed to be alone
right now. "I should go," she said. They could catch
up tomorrow. She picked up her jacket from where
she'd tossed it on the couch on her way in and
started for the door. "For what it's worth - you
were right about Roger Salter and City Hospital. Just
another shadow-dweller."
Logan nodded. Max looked down, wishing she knew what
to say.
"Hey, Max?" Logan asked and looked at her. She looked
up and their eyes locked for a second before he
carefully glanced away. "While you're up, could you
get me some of the lasagna out of the fridge?"
"Sure," Max said with a smile. Lasagna. He knew it
was her favorite. She headed into the kitchen and
after a moment he joined her, and then she knew
everything was going to be all right.
End.