Chapter Two
Max walked slowly down the deserted corridor, the blonde wig that was attached to her head making her scalp itch. While to anyone who might walk down the hall at this particular moment, she would appear to be dreamily walking towards an open bathroom, maybe even appearing to be slightly tipsy the way she was wondering. But in reality, Max was focused dead ahead, mentally running through the exact timing of the complex plan that was about to unfold. She had everything perfectly memorized; from the exact amount of steps it would take her to get from the end of the hallway into the bathroom.
27…28…29…
Max spotted the door ahead, exactly where the blue prints had said it would be. She ambled over and walked inside, shutting the door slowly behind her.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Max flew into a blur of motion. Locking the door with one hand, she pulled off the annoying glasses that she had been wearing all-night and tossed them to the counter with complete disregard. She ripped off the wig, tossing it to the floor, the green dress landing nearby to it a moment later, leaving Max in the black cat suit she had worn underneath with her hair slicked tightly back into a knot at the base of her neck.
She found the small black bag that one of her brothers; either Zack or Krit had hidden there earlier in the day when the security was less. She reached inside and pulled out the form-fitting leather vest and pulled it on then glanced in the bag, pleased that she found all the appropriate tools that she needed for tonight's basic recon mission.
It was only then that Max gave herself twenty seconds to stand there, staring into the mirror, the adrenaline rushing through her bloodstream, a sly grin on her face, letting the immense pleasure of doing what she loved best overcome her.
Then she pulled the straps of the bag over her shoulders and stepped up to the door, blocking out all other thoughts but of the mission at hand.
Logan sat in the closet sized room, his feet up on a table, his cell phone at his ear waiting for the call to connect. As he heard the dull ringing as the call went through, he turned his attention back to the wall of television screens in front of him. When the light female voice picked up, Logan spoke.
"Hey, Kat, sorry its so late."
"Oh, hello Mr. Cale."
"Kat, you've been working for me for over five years. When are you going to call me Logan?"
"When I am good and ready." Katherine Heche, Logan's longtime secretary and equally longtime friend answered back placidly.
As he looked up at a screen to his left, Logan spotted Veronica walking into a bathroom in the back of the mansion. He had one fleeting thought; wondering how she ended up back there, then went back to his conversation.
"Listen, I got Blakely to agree to talk to me."
"Congratulations." Kat replied, her joy carrying easily over the phone line. "I thought you said it was probably a dead end."
"Well, it took me three and a half days of bugging him to get him to break. Well, that and the promise of safe transport to Canada and five grand."
Kat chuckled. "So what do you need me to do?"
"I need you to check out what kind of safe house we can find for him by, say, next Thursday."
"I'm on it. Anything else?"
"Yeah, I need you to call up…" Logan trailed off, startled as he stared up at the screen he had been watching a moment ago. Not more than a few moments ago, he'd watched blonde haired Veronica walk into that bathroom. Now, a dark haired mystery woman stuck her head out, glancing both ways, before slinking away down the darkened hallway, clad in the exact outfit any sensible robber would wear.
"Kat, I'll call you back." Logan said quickly before flipping the phone shut and tossing it to the table. Logan hopped out of his chair and quickly strode to the back of the room and took the second exit into the back of the mansion, finding himself very close to the bathroom that the mystery woman had come out of. 'She, whoever she was, must have hurt Veronica.' He thought as he jogged down the hallway.
He reached the door, and knocking on it with the side of his fist, he shouted, "Veronica? Are you ok?"
There was no answer. "Veronica?" He called again. Fearing the worst, having a clear image of her lying in a pool of blood on the floor, or something equally terrifying, he wrenched the door open.
All he found was Veronica's dress, her glasses, and a blonde wig lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.
"What the hell is going on?" Logan muttered to himself as he picked up the dress, as if to find some clue of where Veronica was, and why some woman who looked nothing like her had snuck down the hallway a few moments before.
Turning, he jogged down the hallway, following the path the mystery woman had taken, hoping to catch whoever it was in the act of whatever they might be doing.
Max tiptoed stealthily down the darkened hallway, carefully checking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed. When she reached the opening to a large, empty room, she crouched in the doorway, pulling the bag off her back, and pulling out a small light. She quickly pulled out a small diffuser and screwed it on to the end.
Setting it quietly on the floor, Max flipped it
on, casting a light, neon light across the room, exposing an intricate system of lasers that were invisible to the naked eye, but were exposed as the filtered green light flowed over the lasers.
Max continued to crouch, quickly memorizing the exact location of each individual intersecting laser. Finally she stood, pulling her bag over her shoulder, and taking a several steps back, she ran forward, jumping at the last second and doing a complex series of flips, handsprings, and cartwheels to lad safely and silently on the other side. She immediately turned and ran quietly down the hallway, making a left and into Phillip Costello's office.
Logan watched, completely flabbergasted as he watched the mystery woman flip effortlessly through the complex and state of the art security system that his Phillip had just installed a few months ago. Logan quickly walked over to the keypad and typed in his own personal series of codes to release the alarm.
He ran down the hallway, quietly as possible, trying to figure out where the brunette woman in black had disappeared. When he saw the door to Phillip's office slightly ajar, knowing perfectly well that Phillip never left the door unlocked, not less open. So he turned down the hallway, slowly inching his towards the door, nudging the door open with his foot.
Logan was surprised that he found no one in there, no one was at the desk, and everything looked like it was in order. He was just about to turn around and leave when his arm was grabbed and twisted behind his back, and before he could react at all, he found himself thrown painfully face-first into the wall.
"Why the fuck are you following me." He heard a fierce voice whisper into his ear as his arm was jerked farther backwards making him yelp in pain.
Max had just entered the office when she heard the distant yet unmistakable sound of the alarm-system being disabled. Max had immediately replaced the framed painting to its place in front of the electronic safe and darted behind the door.
And here she was, holding Logan, the godson of the man she was trying to gather evidence of racketeering, money laundering, and possibly good old-fashioned murder. "Why the fuck are you following me?" I hiss in his ear, twisting his arm farther behind his back, making sure to twist his wrist in a way to enhance the pain he must have been feeling. Max had the distinct feeling that this extremely simple mission that she had been taking simple joy in was swiftly but surely getting shipped UPS straight to hell.
Before he could speak, Max jerked him away from the wall and threw him into the chair behind Phillip's desk, ripping a large knife out of a small pocket in her vest. As he landed in his chair, she jammed down to stick straight up in the wood of the desk, landing centimeters from Logan's hand. It was then that he looked up and, for the first time since Max had attacked him, they made eye contact.
Logan was shocked to find himself staring into the eyes into the eyes of the woman he had danced with less than a half hour before. "Veronica?" He croaked.
"Why the fuck are you following me?" Max whispered in an undertone, not losing the violence that coated her words.
Logan was finally able to form rational thoughts. "Why the fuck are you breaking into my godfather's office? Your not Veronica Sprouse at all are you?"
"Nice job, brain child." Max muttered as she, keeping her gaze locked steadily on Logan pulled a small microphone out of her bag. She hooked it onto her ear, pressing a small button on the side as she adjusted the microphone to sit next to her mouth.
"Tinga, its me. We have a bit of a problem." Max spoke, as she monetarily averted her eyes from Logan. He took that moment to reach under the desk and press a small button, a silent alarm that would alert every single security guard on the property.
"Patch me through to Zane." She continued as she looked back to Logan, who was sitting in front of her looking mystified, but to her surprise, she caught no emotion of fear from him.
When she heard Zane's voice through the device in her ear, she began to speak, simultaneously pulling her knife from where it was lodged on the surface of the desk. "Zane, its me. I got interrupted in the process, I am aborting." Logan watched as she paused, listening to whoever Zane might be. "Basically this is an alpha verbum zeta--" Max stopped abruptly as she heard the sound of three guns, semi-automatic Berettas, cock outside the door.
Logan watched in detached horror as at least six large security guards kicked through the door, guns raised.
Max leapt into the air, rolling sideways as bullets rained out liberally. Logan dropped under the desk covering his head.
While Logan took cover under the desk, Max jumped forward and disabled the first guard with a flying roundhouse kick, the guards body flying into the wall with a sickening thud. Before the second guard to react, she swiftly hit him in the neck with the side of her hand, karate style, knocking him unconscious.
Logan was still under the desk when he heard the gunshots stop and the room becoming eerily quiet, Logan uncovered his head and looked up to see Max pulling on a harness and clipping on a thin wire attached to the end of a caillabener, standing amid six incapacitated security guards.
How in the hell did this tiny woman, no more than twenty-five years old, take out six ex military security guards without seeming to break a sweat?
Max focused dead ahead, not looking away from the grappling hook she was loading into a CO2 powered air gun. "I suggest," She said in a low voice, "That you not follow me again." Max picked up a high back chair, and with out hesitation, threw it through the picture window on the far side of the room. The shrill screeching of the alarm filtered through the room as Max walked to the edge of the window. Leaning out, she shot the grappling to the roof, tugging on the rope as she attached the rope to the caillabener and stood on the window edge. "Because, if you fuck with me again, you can expect a lot worse than your little cronies got."
Logan stood, staring amazed as Max jumped gracefully out the window. He sprinted to the broken window to see Max repel down the wall and to the ground effortlessly.
Out of nowhere a small helicopter cleared the woods behind the Costello Estate, flying steadily. Logan stared as it hovered for a moment, and then flew into motion again, this time a woman clad in black quickly climbing a thin wire hanging from the cargo hold of the helicopter as it flew in a large circle and disappeared over the horizon.
Max walked slowly down the deserted corridor, the blonde wig that was attached to her head making her scalp itch. While to anyone who might walk down the hall at this particular moment, she would appear to be dreamily walking towards an open bathroom, maybe even appearing to be slightly tipsy the way she was wondering. But in reality, Max was focused dead ahead, mentally running through the exact timing of the complex plan that was about to unfold. She had everything perfectly memorized; from the exact amount of steps it would take her to get from the end of the hallway into the bathroom.
27…28…29…
Max spotted the door ahead, exactly where the blue prints had said it would be. She ambled over and walked inside, shutting the door slowly behind her.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Max flew into a blur of motion. Locking the door with one hand, she pulled off the annoying glasses that she had been wearing all-night and tossed them to the counter with complete disregard. She ripped off the wig, tossing it to the floor, the green dress landing nearby to it a moment later, leaving Max in the black cat suit she had worn underneath with her hair slicked tightly back into a knot at the base of her neck.
She found the small black bag that one of her brothers; either Zack or Krit had hidden there earlier in the day when the security was less. She reached inside and pulled out the form-fitting leather vest and pulled it on then glanced in the bag, pleased that she found all the appropriate tools that she needed for tonight's basic recon mission.
It was only then that Max gave herself twenty seconds to stand there, staring into the mirror, the adrenaline rushing through her bloodstream, a sly grin on her face, letting the immense pleasure of doing what she loved best overcome her.
Then she pulled the straps of the bag over her shoulders and stepped up to the door, blocking out all other thoughts but of the mission at hand.
Logan sat in the closet sized room, his feet up on a table, his cell phone at his ear waiting for the call to connect. As he heard the dull ringing as the call went through, he turned his attention back to the wall of television screens in front of him. When the light female voice picked up, Logan spoke.
"Hey, Kat, sorry its so late."
"Oh, hello Mr. Cale."
"Kat, you've been working for me for over five years. When are you going to call me Logan?"
"When I am good and ready." Katherine Heche, Logan's longtime secretary and equally longtime friend answered back placidly.
As he looked up at a screen to his left, Logan spotted Veronica walking into a bathroom in the back of the mansion. He had one fleeting thought; wondering how she ended up back there, then went back to his conversation.
"Listen, I got Blakely to agree to talk to me."
"Congratulations." Kat replied, her joy carrying easily over the phone line. "I thought you said it was probably a dead end."
"Well, it took me three and a half days of bugging him to get him to break. Well, that and the promise of safe transport to Canada and five grand."
Kat chuckled. "So what do you need me to do?"
"I need you to check out what kind of safe house we can find for him by, say, next Thursday."
"I'm on it. Anything else?"
"Yeah, I need you to call up…" Logan trailed off, startled as he stared up at the screen he had been watching a moment ago. Not more than a few moments ago, he'd watched blonde haired Veronica walk into that bathroom. Now, a dark haired mystery woman stuck her head out, glancing both ways, before slinking away down the darkened hallway, clad in the exact outfit any sensible robber would wear.
"Kat, I'll call you back." Logan said quickly before flipping the phone shut and tossing it to the table. Logan hopped out of his chair and quickly strode to the back of the room and took the second exit into the back of the mansion, finding himself very close to the bathroom that the mystery woman had come out of. 'She, whoever she was, must have hurt Veronica.' He thought as he jogged down the hallway.
He reached the door, and knocking on it with the side of his fist, he shouted, "Veronica? Are you ok?"
There was no answer. "Veronica?" He called again. Fearing the worst, having a clear image of her lying in a pool of blood on the floor, or something equally terrifying, he wrenched the door open.
All he found was Veronica's dress, her glasses, and a blonde wig lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.
"What the hell is going on?" Logan muttered to himself as he picked up the dress, as if to find some clue of where Veronica was, and why some woman who looked nothing like her had snuck down the hallway a few moments before.
Turning, he jogged down the hallway, following the path the mystery woman had taken, hoping to catch whoever it was in the act of whatever they might be doing.
Max tiptoed stealthily down the darkened hallway, carefully checking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed. When she reached the opening to a large, empty room, she crouched in the doorway, pulling the bag off her back, and pulling out a small light. She quickly pulled out a small diffuser and screwed it on to the end.
Setting it quietly on the floor, Max flipped it
on, casting a light, neon light across the room, exposing an intricate system of lasers that were invisible to the naked eye, but were exposed as the filtered green light flowed over the lasers.
Max continued to crouch, quickly memorizing the exact location of each individual intersecting laser. Finally she stood, pulling her bag over her shoulder, and taking a several steps back, she ran forward, jumping at the last second and doing a complex series of flips, handsprings, and cartwheels to lad safely and silently on the other side. She immediately turned and ran quietly down the hallway, making a left and into Phillip Costello's office.
Logan watched, completely flabbergasted as he watched the mystery woman flip effortlessly through the complex and state of the art security system that his Phillip had just installed a few months ago. Logan quickly walked over to the keypad and typed in his own personal series of codes to release the alarm.
He ran down the hallway, quietly as possible, trying to figure out where the brunette woman in black had disappeared. When he saw the door to Phillip's office slightly ajar, knowing perfectly well that Phillip never left the door unlocked, not less open. So he turned down the hallway, slowly inching his towards the door, nudging the door open with his foot.
Logan was surprised that he found no one in there, no one was at the desk, and everything looked like it was in order. He was just about to turn around and leave when his arm was grabbed and twisted behind his back, and before he could react at all, he found himself thrown painfully face-first into the wall.
"Why the fuck are you following me." He heard a fierce voice whisper into his ear as his arm was jerked farther backwards making him yelp in pain.
Max had just entered the office when she heard the distant yet unmistakable sound of the alarm-system being disabled. Max had immediately replaced the framed painting to its place in front of the electronic safe and darted behind the door.
And here she was, holding Logan, the godson of the man she was trying to gather evidence of racketeering, money laundering, and possibly good old-fashioned murder. "Why the fuck are you following me?" I hiss in his ear, twisting his arm farther behind his back, making sure to twist his wrist in a way to enhance the pain he must have been feeling. Max had the distinct feeling that this extremely simple mission that she had been taking simple joy in was swiftly but surely getting shipped UPS straight to hell.
Before he could speak, Max jerked him away from the wall and threw him into the chair behind Phillip's desk, ripping a large knife out of a small pocket in her vest. As he landed in his chair, she jammed down to stick straight up in the wood of the desk, landing centimeters from Logan's hand. It was then that he looked up and, for the first time since Max had attacked him, they made eye contact.
Logan was shocked to find himself staring into the eyes into the eyes of the woman he had danced with less than a half hour before. "Veronica?" He croaked.
"Why the fuck are you following me?" Max whispered in an undertone, not losing the violence that coated her words.
Logan was finally able to form rational thoughts. "Why the fuck are you breaking into my godfather's office? Your not Veronica Sprouse at all are you?"
"Nice job, brain child." Max muttered as she, keeping her gaze locked steadily on Logan pulled a small microphone out of her bag. She hooked it onto her ear, pressing a small button on the side as she adjusted the microphone to sit next to her mouth.
"Tinga, its me. We have a bit of a problem." Max spoke, as she monetarily averted her eyes from Logan. He took that moment to reach under the desk and press a small button, a silent alarm that would alert every single security guard on the property.
"Patch me through to Zane." She continued as she looked back to Logan, who was sitting in front of her looking mystified, but to her surprise, she caught no emotion of fear from him.
When she heard Zane's voice through the device in her ear, she began to speak, simultaneously pulling her knife from where it was lodged on the surface of the desk. "Zane, its me. I got interrupted in the process, I am aborting." Logan watched as she paused, listening to whoever Zane might be. "Basically this is an alpha verbum zeta--" Max stopped abruptly as she heard the sound of three guns, semi-automatic Berettas, cock outside the door.
Logan watched in detached horror as at least six large security guards kicked through the door, guns raised.
Max leapt into the air, rolling sideways as bullets rained out liberally. Logan dropped under the desk covering his head.
While Logan took cover under the desk, Max jumped forward and disabled the first guard with a flying roundhouse kick, the guards body flying into the wall with a sickening thud. Before the second guard to react, she swiftly hit him in the neck with the side of her hand, karate style, knocking him unconscious.
Logan was still under the desk when he heard the gunshots stop and the room becoming eerily quiet, Logan uncovered his head and looked up to see Max pulling on a harness and clipping on a thin wire attached to the end of a caillabener, standing amid six incapacitated security guards.
How in the hell did this tiny woman, no more than twenty-five years old, take out six ex military security guards without seeming to break a sweat?
Max focused dead ahead, not looking away from the grappling hook she was loading into a CO2 powered air gun. "I suggest," She said in a low voice, "That you not follow me again." Max picked up a high back chair, and with out hesitation, threw it through the picture window on the far side of the room. The shrill screeching of the alarm filtered through the room as Max walked to the edge of the window. Leaning out, she shot the grappling to the roof, tugging on the rope as she attached the rope to the caillabener and stood on the window edge. "Because, if you fuck with me again, you can expect a lot worse than your little cronies got."
Logan stood, staring amazed as Max jumped gracefully out the window. He sprinted to the broken window to see Max repel down the wall and to the ground effortlessly.
Out of nowhere a small helicopter cleared the woods behind the Costello Estate, flying steadily. Logan stared as it hovered for a moment, and then flew into motion again, this time a woman clad in black quickly climbing a thin wire hanging from the cargo hold of the helicopter as it flew in a large circle and disappeared over the horizon.
