Logan Cale jerked abruptly as the mechanism in front of him sparked and whirred, dying down. Close to screaming from frustration, he let his head fall into his hands, his fingers combing through his spiky golden hair.
When was it going to work? God, it wasn't like he could just wait around forever. He had a life. A life, he vainly hoped, that would be spent with Max.
Ever since their passionate kiss on the floor in his living room, (his living room!), Logan had been trying to think of every possible way to walk again. To redeem himself for what had happened beforehand-falling onto the floor, his legs madly shaking.
It wasn't that it mattered to Max; she had made that clear. But, the fact remained that it mattered to him. It would always matter.
How could he ever forget that helpless feeling of having his wheelchair turned over in the bar while the men just laughed? Having Max have to help him? Never being able to defend anyone. Anyone including himself.
A person could easily hurt him if they wanted to-simply by removing his wheelchair.
Logan pushed himself away from the table upon which the metal exoskeleton waited. He had to do something else to occupy his twisting mind. Messing with that machine would only twist his mind even further.
Eyes Only.
That would work. Of course it would, for it was one of the few remaining places that he was still in control of his life. He wasn't pitied Logan Cale, he was Eyes Only, a strong, daring crusader for peace
There was a story that he through would work-just something to publicize, that was all he needed.
After setting up, Logan rolled his wheelchair in front of the camera, removed his glasses and began: "Do not attempt to adjust your set…"
Lydecker stood behind the cubes of glass that separated the rooms in the Cale Penthouse, flanked by three of his best men, watching quietly.
He had been able to sneak in easily enough. There was no alarm system, and the other man had been far too busy setting up video cameras and computers. Lydecker couldn't have planned it better himself.
So, this is Eyes Only, he thought to himself. The powerful man behind the entire scheme is actually a weak cripple. Amusing.
With the stealth of the feline that Lydecker had injected into his X5s, he moved up behind Logan and pulled the main electrical cord, turning off the machines.
Logan looked up, shocked, and then it finally registered. He was looking at the living, breathing creator of Manticore-Donald Lydecker.
"Mr.…Cale, isn't it?" Lydecker questioned. Logan reached for the phone, not answering, but his hand was slapped away by a soldier.
"Mr. Cale, could you please tell me the location of X5-452…Max?" Lydecker asked, pointing a black gun in Logan's face.
"I won't tell you anything."
"You know then?"
Logan didn't answer. He couldn't. Anything he would say could be invalid.
"Good. Good," Lydecker said and motioned to his men. Logan didn't understand what Lydecker had told his men to do, yet he tried to defend himself as much as possible.
Unfortunately, in one swift motion, Logan was knocked unconscious, lying in a heap on the floor.
"Take him to Manticore and grab the wheelchair," Lydecker told his men. "I believe that Mr. Cale will prove to be of a rather great importance to us."
