James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.
6
The four of us, as one, decide that the time for action has come. We race down the hill and leap over the fence, hardly breaking stride as we move. As we had expected, getting in is easy. We divide up into two pairs almost immediately, Syl and Krit going for the generator as Max and I head towards the lab.
There are no guards, but that doesn't mean that I'm not being challenged with every step I take. Memories come back, unbidden, washing over me with disturbing power. Memories of classes, memories of combat simulations, memories of laying in bed at night, afraid that the nomolies would spring out of the darkness and kill one of my soldiers. It's that memory that grabs me most. It's something curious, something that I hadn't really thought much about since the escape. I was never really afraid of the nomolies, at least not as a threat to my own safety. I was always more afraid that one of my soldiers might come to harm. The memory steels my resolve and places me firmly back in the present, reminding me of my responsibilities and the job at hand. As absurd as the thought might be, I am going to help take down Manticore, and I'm going to do it without losing any of my team.
I look at Max and notice that she seems a little distracted, her face creased with lines of worry. I guess she's remembering a lot of the same stuff I was. "You okay, Max?" I ask softly. She nods her head in response, and I can only hope that she's being honest with me. Either way, though, it's too late to turn back, now. It looks like its time to get the party started.
"You see anything south of corridor 4?" I hear Krit ask over the com. A quick glance at my watch lets me know that he and Syl are six seconds ahead of schedule. Very nice job on their part. Now if only Max and I could get our heads back in the game here...
"You're clear all the way to the generator," Logan tells them. It seems at least the diversionary tactic should come off without a hitch. I hope we'll be able to say the same for the mission objective.
"Copy that," Krit says evenly, not a bit of fear in his voice. Of course, fear isn't something I'd expect from him at this point. He's probably been back here a thousand times in his dreams, and I'll bet he's already faced far worse from his imagination than reality could ever throw at him.
"Logan?" Max suddenly asks. I take a brief look around, wondering why she's broken radio silence, and I realize we've reached our last checkpoint before the lab. Nice to see one of us was paying attention.
"I got you, Max," Logan replies. His voice is calm and steady, as he's doubtlessly trying to project a feeling of safety and security to Max. He's doing a good job. I can even feel myself calming down at the sound of his voice. Strange, that.
"We good to go?" Max asks.
"You're clear."
From this checkpoint to the lab is a short corridor, and there's no reason anyone should show up unexpectedly. In front of us, the only other access to the hall comes from the lab itself, and I trust that Logan was thorough enough in his search to make certain none of the lab's personnel are working a late night. We reach the door to the lab, and I take out the eye that Lydecker acquired for us in his little side-mission with Max. I don't know who this eye was removed from, and I don't much care. All that matters is that Lydecker was able to procure a body part from someone from whom Manticore had not yanked security clearance. I pull down the identification camera, and a short moment later we're approved for entrance.
"I guess there is an 'I' in 'team,' " Max says with a hint of a grin. I do my best to maintain my stolid composure, but I think the slightest ghost of a smile passes over my face. I'm not generally one for humor, especially during a mission, but the mental image of what Lydecker's expression would be if he heard that pun is just a little too much for me to contain. "It worked," Max reports over the com. "We're in."
Max and I enter the lab, and I get the strangest feeling. I'm suddenly reminded of something an old bag lady once said to me in Minneapolis, that she felt like someone had just walked over her grave. Until now I had no idea what she had meant. That's how it feels to see four walls constructed of glass cases, each marked with a bar code that I recognize – I feel like someone just walked over my grave. I don't think I could explain to a normal what it feels like to see a small glass vial that is, in essence, me. It's humbling in a way I can't describe. I've been wandering around the United States for ten years, obviously superior to every non-X-5 that I encounter, but in the end I'm nothing more than a few cells that were thrown together. The proof of that is sitting in front of me. There was no miracle of creation for me, no parents that came together to create me as an expression of caring (or at least lust) for each other.
"Max, it's you," I comment once I see her barcode. It looks like she's probably having the same thoughts that I am right now. "And me...and Brin...and Tinga."
"No. Tinga's dead," she says evenly, her voice brooking no argument. Maybe she's right. Tinga was more than just a collection of cells, she was an individual that had absolutely no resemblance to the woman that would develop if Manticore's scientists implanted these cells into a surrogate mother to create a new Tinga, to be raised here on the compound. Max is different, too. As I am. We're not Manticore property anymore. We're not a concoction of cells to be toyed with as a few scientists please. After tonight, Renfro will understand that. "Come on," Max mutters, jolting my concentration back to where it should be and getting my act together. I feel a wave of clarity and concentration wash over me, and for the first time in months I feel like the old me. All of the distractions and emotions have been sublimated. I finally know who I am. I'm not some geneticist's science experiment, but neither am I the normal man I've been pretending to be lately, as I began to care more and more for Max. I'm something different, something that has elements of both.
We go to work immediately, placing the explosives around the lab. For a brief moment I'm concerned that the detonation signal won't get through the walls, that there must be some kind of protective material to prevent this very kind of operation. Then I relax, though. If that were a problem, Lydecker would have done this differently. The colonel knows his job; I only need to concentrate on my own.
"The target is primed." I report as soon as Max and I are done.
"Okay, get out of there," Logan says.
"We're on the move," I tell him, not needing any more prompting. I know that both Syl and Krit should be done by now, too. This half-ass idea might actually work...
That's when everything starts to go wrong. Noise erupts in my ears, temporarily disorienting me. I had been concentrating on listening for the slightest sound, and now my aural faculties are on overload, similar to the way my eyes would feel if someone shined a spotlight in my face while I was wearing nightvision goggles. The sound is actually painful.
"We've got an alarm," Lydecker reports, though I think we all figured that out already. "Withdraw to the perimeter," he orders, something in his voice sounding strangely concerned. It almost reminds me of the way Logan sounded when Lydecker surprised Max and me when we were trying to rescue Tinga. "We've been made," Lydecker continues. "All units withdraw."
"Roger that," Krit responds.
"Moving out," Max adds. We're suddenly racing through the complex, the surroundings a blur as we dash past the cold, bare walls. I can hear the footsteps of some sentries that are moving into position, while others are moving through the halls, searching for intruders, for us. Too bad for them they're probably all normals. It's unlikely they'll ever find us; and if they do, they'll be unable to do anything to stop us. Then I see and hear something that makes me concerned. As we run past one door, I can hear people inside, using what sounds like a battering ram to get out. That's not part of the plan, my mind reminds me. This is the area that my sibs and I grew up in, and there wasn't supposed to be anyone here. If they're locked in, it's probably because Lydecker had Logan engaged the maglocks while he was poking around in the security system. We're not far past the door when I hear it crash down to the floor in the hallway. It doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together – a younger generation still has some of its people here. X-6? X-7? I don't know. I just run, not risking a glance back. I know how much better my class was compared to those that came before. I don't even want to imagine what 'improvements' have been made since we left.
"Syl, Krit, unfriendlies behind you, 25 meters and closing," Logan reports. He probably thinks he sounds cool, saying the guards are 'unfriendlies.' I'll bet these guards are carrying assault rifles and responding to orders to shoot on sight. To hell with unfriendly, I'd call them absolutely hostile.
"Take them out," Lydecker orders. I can hear gunfire over the com, and neither Krit nor Syl reports that there's a problem. Since there's no way both of them would have been taken out cleanly, I can only assume that they're okay.
"It's Brin," Lydecker mutters. I have to wonder whether he left that line open or not, hoping that Max would her him. "She's heading for the lab." Okay, he left the line open on purpose. He probably wants Brin taken out, and he knows that Max will volunteer for the job, hoping to save her sister from getting blown up.
"Which way is she coming?" Max asks predictably.
"They're onto us," I remind her. "There's no time." I can tell by the look on Max's face that she isn't going to listen to me. She's going to 'save' Brin.
"I won't let her take one for good ol' Manticore," Max shoots back at me. "Which way?" she demands. My one hope is that both Logan and Lydecker will be smart enough not to tell her, though I know the colonel will be more than willing to send Max back, just to make sure the explosives aren't disarmed.
"Back the way you came, first corridor on your left," Logan replies. Okay, I'll admit it – I'm more than a little surprised. I never thought Logan would be stupid enough to send Max back. I want to grab Max, to explain to her that there's probably another generation around here somewhere, and that we can't risk this. But there just isn't time...
"Go!" Max yells at me. Okay, I decide, starting to turn in the other direction. Something in Max's eyes lets me know that she's completely aware of the choice she's making. She's just significantly reduced her chances of making it out alive, and she knows it. She's also unwilling to foolishly risk additional assets by letting me go with her. Finally, I can see that she's still a soldier, deep down inside. That cold, steely core that Manticore created has gone untouched in ten years as a civilian. She may not want me to go with her, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to help her. I'll go outside and hang around the inner perimeter, trying to create a weakness in our enemies' positions so that she'll be able to get away.
Minutes pass and I dig myself in, making certain I have a fairly defensible position. One shot, then two, then three. Several sentries by access point thirteen fall down, and I hope that that is, indeed, the door that Max will use. It's the door I would use, anyway, and since I'm pretty sure she's finally thinking like one of us again, I'll take the chance. With the enemy's guards compromised, I take off toward the outer perimeter, hoping I can make it out without running into anyone that could be an undue threat.
"She's clear," I hear Logan announce over the com. I guess they've been a little too distracted to go to the trouble of silencing the line when they're not talking to the rest of us. "Detonate." I wait for the explosion, but nothing happens.
"I said, she's clear," Logan repeats. I here a faint click over the line, and I have to stifle a smile as I realize Logan has likely just pulled a weapon on the colonel. God, I wish I was there to see this. "Do it now." This time, his urging meets with some success; I feel a slight rumbling under my feet and hear a muffled explosion come from back in the direction of the compound. Mission accomplished.
"Max, where are you?" Logan asks, suddenly seeming to have taken more of a command role in this operation. Guy has balls... maybe I've been wrong about him all this time.
"Almost home," Max replies.
"Zack, talk to me," he adds, surprising me with the genuine concern in his voice. And here I thought he hated me...
"On my way," I respond.
"Do you know who I am?" I hear Max ask. What the hell is she doing now? Time to wonder is lost, however, as a small unit locates me. My opportunity to run full-tilt off the grounds is lost as I'm forced to undertake an engaged withdrawal. Damn, this is gonna take too long.
"Max?" I hear Logan ask desperately. Something is wrong with Max, I can just feel it. Seems Logan can, too. Figures, what with his close relationship with her and all. "Max, answer me."
I wish I could go find Max, help her in some way, but I have my hands full as it is. Gunfire is coming from all angles, and I know in my gut that I'm being flanked on both sides. I only have two chances right now. Either I start hitting with some of my shots, or I turn tail and run away as fast as I can, escaping the noose before my enemies can close it tightly around me. Hitting some of them will take luck, as I can't even see who I'm shooting at. Right now I can only hope to keep them pinned down like they're doing to me. If I run, well... I'll be turning my back on trained, armed soldiers. Doesn't seem like that's a very good idea, either. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that I'm screwed. I guess I could call for reinforcements, but that would put my people at unnecessary risk, so that's not a viable option. Krit and Syl are probably already out, so they can stay there. As for Max, well, I can only hope that she's okay. Maybe I can hook up with her. I start to move quickly in the direction I figure she ran in, and suddenly feel a sharp, biting sensation in my back as I'm thrown to the ground. I've been hit, though it could be worse. My arms and legs still work, so my spine wasn't damaged. There's still hope. Then, in a flash, a half-dozen children appear as if from nowhere. Damn, they're even faster than any X-5. I look up into a familiar pair of eyes, my eyes, and I'm reminded of the lab. Max was right – those vials weren't us. If they were, then I wouldn't be looking at a younger version of me, holding me at gunpoint. Seems I just became a POW.
The next few minutes are a blur. I'm brought back to the compound, still at gunpoint, and strapped down on a stretcher to be brought to the infirmary. I lay back as the adrenaline starts to wear off. The wound hurts like hell, but it's nothing permanent. In fact, as much as it hurts, I think I'm bothered more by the fact that I just got my ass kicked. That's never happened before, especially not at the hands of a bunch of children. It's humiliating. My only comfort comes from the thought that by now my people are likely long gone.
I see the infirmary doors ahead, and I can hear a bit of shouting. Stands to reason. There must have been some casualties suffered by some of the compound's personnel. As I get wheeled in, though, I see my sister lying on another stretcher. "Max!" I hear myself scream. It's strange, almost as if my mouth is working on autopilot. I know I didn't plan on yelling. I'm concentrating far too much on getting out of these straps to bother thinking about words.
"Internal paddles," a female doctor says.
"Charge to 30," a man says to one of the assistants.
"Charge."
"Clear," the man instructs. I can hear a heartbeat on the monitor, but just as my hopes start to rise, Max flat-lines again. Then I see someone new walk in, an air of command about her. She's wearing a black skirt and sport-jacket, and everyone seems to subconsciously defer to her. Seems I just met Renfro. I start to work at the straps more, trying to simply overpower the material.
"30 again," the male doctor mutters.
"Charge."
"Clear." Again there's a heartbeat, but this time I'm not surprised to hear the flat-line that follows.
"What's her condition?" Renfro asks, her voice lacking any genuine, humanitarian concern. God I wish I had a weapon right now.
"The bullet went clean through," the male doctor responds quickly. "Her right ventricle is collapsed. She's gone." No, goddamnit, it can't be! I curse. She can't be gone. Especially not with a gunshot wound through the right ventricle. Not like Barry. My mistakes have just been repeated. I just lost a soldier. I just lost a soldier. I just lost a soldier...
"Is there damage to any other organs?" Renfro asks, the bitch seeming as eerily calm and detached as I'm sure she always is. The doctor shakes his head, no. "Prep her for harvesting."
"No!" I yell, though this time I know exactly what I'm doing as I shout. I have to distract them. I have to get their attention away from Max. I just need to keep them from finishing her off until I can get out of these straps. For the first time in my life, I let go of my feelings, uncorking emotions that I've kept bottled up my entire life. For the briefest of moments I feel every sensation that I've suppressed over the years, and my body reacts as I predicted it would. I feel a surge of adrenaline, and I burst out of the straps. The guards, only normals and caught by surprise, are no match for me. In one smooth, practiced motion I snap the neck of the closest guard while I draw his own sidearm from his crumpling body. Renfro surprises me with her quickness as she runs away, but I grab her before she gets more than a few steps. Now I have a hostage. "Bring her back!" I warn the doctors, pointing my weapon at them to emphasize the fact that this is not a topic open for debate. They will comply.
"Her heart's too badly damaged," the male doctor says lamely.
"Then transplant her," I growl.
"There's nothing in the donor bank," the doctor replies, as if I'm interested in his excuses. I will not allow Max to die. No X-5's die on my watch.
"Then you need a donor," I say evenly, pointing my weapon at Renfro's head. Seems the problem is solved.
"It won't do her any good," Renfro replies, trying to act calm. I guess she forgets how acute my senses are – I can smell the fear rolling off her. Her charade is simply insulting. "She's an X-5," the woman points out. "She needs an X-5 heart." I almost curse myself for being so stupid. Of course she needs an X-5 heart. As if a normal's heart would be able to withstand the stress of our heightened adrenaline levels, or be able to supply the amount of blood that our augmented musculature demands. The new heart would probably fail within an hour.
I push the bitch away and kneel down at Maxie's side. I swore I would never, ever allow anything to happen to my soldiers, but I've failed. Max is lying here dying, dead, and now I only have one option available. I can save Max, but it will mean none of the others will have my protection again. I can only hope that Lydecker's predictions are true, that our assault will, in fact, spell the end of Manticore. If Manticore dies, then my soldiers will be safe; they won't need me, anyway. I won't have a true purpose anymore, so I might as well do what I can to fulfill my final responsibility.
"Fight them, Maxie," I whisper in Max's ear, suppressing the urge to tell her I love her. I won't admit to such things in front of my enemies. In lieu of the whole truth, this will do. "Promise me you'll fight them."
I stand up, and I can see the eyes of the medical team go wide as they begin to figure out what I have planned. They've never seen anything like this before. "X5-599, I've got a heart for you." Then all it takes is to squeeze the trigger...
Fin?
Author's Note: I would like to acknowledge and thank DarkAngelFan.com, from which I was able to get a transcript for the episode, And Jesus Brought a Casserole. It sure made things easier for me.