Here we go . . . you all know the drill. I own nothing. NOTHING!
Part .07
"Boo," Original Cindy said as Logan sat the reciever down, "you have to come help us over here. We can't figure it out . . . Temperature, 36° F, visability, 10 meters . . . wind speed -- lookee here, Logan. Its eight miles per hour. This place would be a nightmare for you 'n' me. Our boy Zack says it ain't no walk in the park for the genetically engineered, either."
Zack nodded emphathetically, "It ain't . . . er, it isn't . . ."
Original Cindy gave Zack a quick you-bitting-my-flavor? look before continuing. "So you got any idea where it is."
Walking quickly to Original Cindy and Zack, Logan picked up their notes and sat down heavily on a chair.
"What's this?" he murmured after a few minutes. "Doratidi . . . that seems to be the name of the facitiy she's being kept in . . . something seems so obvious, I just can't place it . . ."
"We got the same feeling, brother," Original Cindy said with a small shrug of her shoulders.
"Wait a second," Zack put his finger down and traced the paper, one of the original photocopies, "that could be a longitude and a langitude, couldn't it?"
"Oh my god . . ." Original Cindy whispered, "Look, sixty-one, zero. Ten, N. One hundred-fifty, zero. One, W. Original Cindy went through that page, why did she miss that?"
"You were tired, Cindy, okay?" Logan spoke, typing in the numbers on his computer. "Bingo," he said, "Anchorage, Alaska . . . wait . . . Doratidi . . . write that backwards . . . the Iditarod race starts in Anchorage . . ."
"I feel like an idiot," Zack said, starting to pace.
"No more than usual," Original Cindy commented dryly to Logan.
"I heard that," Zack told her.
"It would have been wasted if you hadn't," Original Cindy stated, getting ready for a heated argument by placing her hands on her hips.
"Can we stop bickering and start getting Max out of this hellhole?" Logan asked, typing in some commands to his computer. The other two stopped the fight before it began and quieted down. "This is what we know:
"Max is somewhere in the Anchorage, Alaska area. The name of their compound is either Iditarod or Doratidi . . . and the dealings seem to be different that those that were Manticore based. What I know is I wont tell Lydecker anything else we know."
"Because that boy may not have the 411 on all on our dish?" Original Cindy said. (Who did you expect to say it, Zack?)
"Exactly," Logan said. "Lydecker doesn't need any more information than what we've given him."
"I think its best you gave them the heads up that you know Max is alive. It means we've got a barganing chip," Original Cindy ran her hands through her hair, trying to fix the tangles that had formed in it.
"So, what are we gonna be telling good ole Dad?" Zack asked mordantly, cutting Logan's reply off.
"Well, we're going to make it sound as if Max is being held somewhere in the Sierra Nevadas," Logan said quickly.
"Ouch, now that place is hot. Original Cindy knows all too well, her parents had this whole love hot places thing going on when she was younger," Original Cindy grabbed a clip to tame her hair.
"Its the perfect place, on the continental United States and hot as Hades in the summertime," Logan said.
"Instead of hot as Antartica in the summer time, eh?" Original Cindy asked.
"One extreme to the other," Logan said, "though Antartica is a lot colder, let me tell you."
"Original Cindy was fishing and she couldn't come up with nothin'," Original Cindy shrugged. "So shoot her."
"Let's prepare what we'll say to Lydecker, shall we?" Zack interjected.
"Yeah," Original Cindy made a face and drew her head back, "let's get this baby booted up."
Part .07
"Boo," Original Cindy said as Logan sat the reciever down, "you have to come help us over here. We can't figure it out . . . Temperature, 36° F, visability, 10 meters . . . wind speed -- lookee here, Logan. Its eight miles per hour. This place would be a nightmare for you 'n' me. Our boy Zack says it ain't no walk in the park for the genetically engineered, either."
Zack nodded emphathetically, "It ain't . . . er, it isn't . . ."
Original Cindy gave Zack a quick you-bitting-my-flavor? look before continuing. "So you got any idea where it is."
Walking quickly to Original Cindy and Zack, Logan picked up their notes and sat down heavily on a chair.
"What's this?" he murmured after a few minutes. "Doratidi . . . that seems to be the name of the facitiy she's being kept in . . . something seems so obvious, I just can't place it . . ."
"We got the same feeling, brother," Original Cindy said with a small shrug of her shoulders.
"Wait a second," Zack put his finger down and traced the paper, one of the original photocopies, "that could be a longitude and a langitude, couldn't it?"
"Oh my god . . ." Original Cindy whispered, "Look, sixty-one, zero. Ten, N. One hundred-fifty, zero. One, W. Original Cindy went through that page, why did she miss that?"
"You were tired, Cindy, okay?" Logan spoke, typing in the numbers on his computer. "Bingo," he said, "Anchorage, Alaska . . . wait . . . Doratidi . . . write that backwards . . . the Iditarod race starts in Anchorage . . ."
"I feel like an idiot," Zack said, starting to pace.
"No more than usual," Original Cindy commented dryly to Logan.
"I heard that," Zack told her.
"It would have been wasted if you hadn't," Original Cindy stated, getting ready for a heated argument by placing her hands on her hips.
"Can we stop bickering and start getting Max out of this hellhole?" Logan asked, typing in some commands to his computer. The other two stopped the fight before it began and quieted down. "This is what we know:
"Max is somewhere in the Anchorage, Alaska area. The name of their compound is either Iditarod or Doratidi . . . and the dealings seem to be different that those that were Manticore based. What I know is I wont tell Lydecker anything else we know."
"Because that boy may not have the 411 on all on our dish?" Original Cindy said. (Who did you expect to say it, Zack?)
"Exactly," Logan said. "Lydecker doesn't need any more information than what we've given him."
"I think its best you gave them the heads up that you know Max is alive. It means we've got a barganing chip," Original Cindy ran her hands through her hair, trying to fix the tangles that had formed in it.
"So, what are we gonna be telling good ole Dad?" Zack asked mordantly, cutting Logan's reply off.
"Well, we're going to make it sound as if Max is being held somewhere in the Sierra Nevadas," Logan said quickly.
"Ouch, now that place is hot. Original Cindy knows all too well, her parents had this whole love hot places thing going on when she was younger," Original Cindy grabbed a clip to tame her hair.
"Its the perfect place, on the continental United States and hot as Hades in the summertime," Logan said.
"Instead of hot as Antartica in the summer time, eh?" Original Cindy asked.
"One extreme to the other," Logan said, "though Antartica is a lot colder, let me tell you."
"Original Cindy was fishing and she couldn't come up with nothin'," Original Cindy shrugged. "So shoot her."
"Let's prepare what we'll say to Lydecker, shall we?" Zack interjected.
"Yeah," Original Cindy made a face and drew her head back, "let's get this baby booted up."
