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.

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Author's First Note: First, on the off chance that there are any biblical scholars reading this fic, I would like to take a moment to apologize for a few liberties I've taken herein.  For those of you that aren't biblical scholars… well, I'm betting you'll never notice what I've done.  Also, hope all y'all don't mind long chapters, since this is probably the longest one of the story.

Author's Second Note: I absolutely need to thank Brynn McK (a.k.a. the Goddess of Beta Reading) for going over this chapter (TWICE!) and giving pointers where necessary.  This chapter would never have been as good as I (most modestly) think it is without her valued input.  And thanks once again to everyone that's been taking the time to review – it really helps motivate me to keep plugging away at this story.

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IX – The Promised Land

            As Max stepped off the helicopter, shrugging off the blast of sand and searing-hot desert air, her one thought was that she was glad she'd remembered her sunglasses.  The sun was incredibly bright, and she could imagine the headache she would get it if the glare assaulted her genetically enhanced eyes for any extended duration.

So this is Israel, she thought, surprised with how little she was impressed with the devastation around her.  She had expected the destruction to be on a grander scale, as would befit a nuclear war.  Instead, all she saw were a few scatted ruins of buildings and tons and tons of rubble that was quickly blending in with the surrounding desert.

            Haifa had once been a thriving port city, but back in the War of '13 Israel had been pushed to the brink of oblivion.  With the United States still reeling from the Pulse, and defeat all but certain, Israel had done what had previously been the unthinkable – it deployed nuclear weapons in a strategic, wartime strike.  Baghdad, Tehran, Damascus, Beirut, Amman, Riyadh, and Mecca were all hit, millions wiped out in the blink of an eye and the cities reduced to ash.  Most had reasonably assumed that Israel's Arab foes had also possessed nukes, but no one expected them also to have such accurate guidance systems and advanced rocket technology.  By the end of the day, the Israeli cities of Tel Aviv, Haifa, Gaza, and Nablus had also been annihilated, and the War of '13 had come to an abrupt close.

            I guess that's what happens when two groups that hate each other finally get down to the business of destroying one another, Max mused, trying not to dwell on the possible parallels with her own people's situation.

            "We better get moving fast," Zack warned as the helicopter blades finally slowed enough for them all to hear each other.  "There's still quite a bit of radiation in the area, and while the transgenics among us might be fine for a few hours, we also have Logan to think about."

            "Thanks," Logan muttered as he gazed around, his wide-eyed expression betraying the fact that he was far more awed by the post-apocalyptic panorama than Max was.

            "So where to?" Alec asked.

            "We head inland a bit," Zack answered.  "Our contact should meet us once we get out of the old port quarter."  The group walked quickly, and disregarding the extensive military training of her childhood, Max began to let her mind wander.  The helicopter ride from Cairo had actually helped settle her nerves a great deal – for some reason she had always been relaxed inside choppers – but now that she was in the field, her anxiety was growing once more.  They came around the remains of an old wall, and Max shuddered as her gaze settled on several dark silhouettes on the sun-bleached stone.  She knew what she was looking at – the shadows of people that had been vaporized in the nuclear blast, their outlines scorched into the rock by a light that measured in the tens of thousands of degrees.  I wonder what it was like, Max pondered.  It wasn't really the thought of death that preoccupied her – after the Gillette assault she had come close enough to dying not to be overly curious or afraid of it any longer – it was the idea of simply being erased from the universe in a fraction of a second.  She wondered if the people standing in front of this wall when the bomb detonated had felt their lives slip away as Max had when she had been in the Manticore ER, her obliterated heart allowing her life to fade slowly… so painfully, excruciatingly slowly.

            "There he is," Zack muttered, pointing ahead.  Max couldn't help but smile when she saw a face so much like hers, but yet so different.

            "Krit," she called out when they were within a dozen yards.  "Good to see you again."

            "You, too," he replied with a grin of his own.  "How's it going, Logan," he added, shaking hands with the group's only ordinary.

            "Been great," Logan said evenly, his eerily calm demeanor striking Max as strange.  It's almost like he belongs out here with us, like it's completely natural for him.

            "I notice your legs seem fine," Krit commented.

            "Helps to have lots of transgenic friends," Logan responded, the shadow of a smile flitting across his face for the briefest of moments.  "Where's Lydecker?"

            "He's holed up in an old underground Mossad training facility at the edge of the city," Krit explained.  "The place was abandoned after the surrounding area was made a wasteland.  Hardly anyone ever comes out here anymore."

            "Perfect," Set grunted, Max almost jumping as he spoke.  That was the first word he had said since they'd left Seattle.

            "If you please follow me, your chariot awaits," Krit said as he pointed out a large tarp that barely concealed the outline of a Humvee.

            "So is Lydecker finally gonna tell us what's going on?" Logan asked.

            "It's my understanding that he's going to tell you everything he knows," Krit responded.  "Everything he knows, and everything he suspects.  I just hope you guys don't scare too easily."

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            The room Max soon found herself in was the epitome of utilitarian.  Brightly lit but with cold, gray, windowless walls, she noted that the claustrophobic feel of her surroundings constantly reminded her that she was a hundred feet below ground.  There was nothing that could be termed as decorative, but of course, that would have been out of place in an old Mossad bunker.  Other than the sturdy chairs on which they sat and the thin rows of tables that held their briefing materials, the only items to break the sterile chill of the room were a set of monitors on the front wall.  One of them, Max noted, displayed a rather detailed satellite map of the surrounding area.

            "So Deck, what's the op?" Max asked gregariously as Colonel Donald Lydecker finally joined his visitors in the old briefing room.  He seemed to strut as he took his place before them, and Max could tell that the colonel was nothing less than elated to be with 'his kids' again.

            "Today we're doing no less than saving the world," Lydecker replied gruffly, looking over all of his old proteges.  Max initially needed to stifle an amused smile at Lydecker's melodrama, but then she saw a look of intensity in Lydecker's eyes unlike anything she had ever seen there before.  Oh my God, he's serious, she realized, all of a sudden looking around her to see if anyone else realized the gravity of the situation.  She immediately locked eyes with Alec and saw that he was obviously as distraught as she was.  He knows, too, she realized.  No one else had broken his gaze from the colonel, though.

            "You all know about White and his kind," Lydecker stated.  "You've probably all figured out by now that they plan to take over the world someday.  Same old dream that's been batted around for millennia… except I think they can actually do it.  They've come up with a way to drive ordinaries… people like you and me, Logan," he said with an inappropriately amused smile, "into extinction.  They're not waiting for evolution to take its course; they're not giving the universe the opportunity to make its own natural selection as to which species – theirs or ours – gets to continue on.

            "Max, I believe you've already been exposed to the pathogen that's carried in those snakes of theirs, right?" he asked.  For the briefest of moments, Max locked eyes with her old mentor and felt a chill wash over her, seeing something in the colonel's blank stare that reminded her of the snakes that the Familiars had apparently built their dreams around.

            "Right," Max replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders.  "Wasn't any real biggie, though.  Didn't even get sick or anything, though I think that freaked them out a bit."

            "And with good reason," Lydecker replied.  He paused and took a deep breath, and although he seemed to be mentally going over what he was about to say, making certain his words would have the desired psychological and emotional effect, Max knew from experience that Lydecker's behavior was all for show.  She was certain he would never have come into the room without having every single word of his presentation completely planned out; he was too much of a control freak to have done otherwise.  No, this little dramatic pause of his is all part of his planned presentation.  "The pathogen in those snakes is their way to take over the world, to make the rest of humanity extinct," the colonel finally continued in an unsettling, matter-of-fact tone.  "It's a naturally produced plague that could wipe out the Earth's population."

            "I thought it was some kind of venom," Max interrupted.

            "It shares some properties with venom," Lydecker explained, "in that it causes the immediate destruction of cells and starts to break down the nervous system.  It's a toxic bacteria, though, actually fairly similar to the bacteria that's found in a Komodo Dragon's saliva, though it's far more virulent.  Komodo Dragon bites are usually fatal, but it's not because of venom – it's the infection that quickly results.  This snake that they've been selectively breeding is the exact same way, and every generation of this snake is stronger than the last."

            "Meaning each generation can withstand a stronger bacteria than the one before it," Alec surmised.

            "Exactly," Lydecker stated.  "We've done some tests with transgenic blood and some of the virus that we obtained from a captured snake.  In every sample, the transgenic, had he actually been exposed to the bacteria, would have survived."

            "So we're immune," Max stated, finally getting confirmation on something she had already suspected.  At least that much is good news.

            "I prefer to use the word 'resistant' rather than immune," Lydecker countered.  "We already ran a blood test on that sample you gave us, though, Max, and your blood is unlike any of the others."  Lydecker's brow arched just the slightest bit, betraying the fact that he had been surprised by this development.

            "Different how?" Max asked nervously, already having some suspicions but fearing to know the truth.

            "Different in that while all transgenics seem to possess some type of antibody that can eventually defeat the infection, you seem to have some kind of genetically engineered antigen that's specifically designed to seek out and destroy this pathogen," Lydecker replied, shifting his gaze away from Max and focusing, in turn, on each of her siblings.  It was almost as if he was more interested in their reactions to Max's immunity than he was in Max's own response, though Max couldn't imagine why.  "Let me put it this way – the cult's pathogen is a bacteria, which means it's a living organism.  The antigen in your blood is hundreds of times more lethal to this bacteria than the bacteria is to an ordinary.  In effect, your body naturally produces an organism that can wipe out the Familiars' plague."

            "No wonder they want to get their hands on you so badly," Alec muttered to Max.  Max was unable to respond, though, as her head was spinning out of control as she pondered the ins and outs of a race to the top of the microscopic food chain.  She had read books, both fiction and non-fiction, that had warned of the dangers of a micro-bio-genetic arms race, but in all of her imaginings she had never thought that she would be a central figure in such a scenario.  In her life she had seen many truly terrible things, and faced off against numerous foes.  She had never really been rattled to the core the way she was now, though.  Why is that? she wondered silently, trying to figure out why she felt so spooked.  Is it just that you seem to be playing the central role in opposing the apocalypse? she asked herself sarcastically.  Is that just a little too messianic for ya, Maxie?

            "You said it seeks out and destroys the pathogen?" Logan asked.

            "That's right," Lydecker confirmed.  "We took a beaker of the snake's blood and dropped in a drop of Max's blood.  Within minutes… even faster than the projected dispersion rate, every one of the pathogen bacteria was completely destroyed.  The antigen seems designed so that just drawing blood from Max and injecting it in an ordinary would cure the individual within a matter of minutes."

            "Meaning I'm a walking cure," Max surmised.

            "Which is why we needed to bring you along," Lydecker said.  "To be quite honest, I don't know if there's a point at which your blood becomes too old to be effective."

            "So you want to make sure you can draw a few fresh CC's and inject it into you in case anything goes wrong out there," Max guessed.  The look on Lydecker's face let her know she was right on the money.

            "It's not just for me, though," Lydecker said, his words indicating a desire to explain though his expression betrayed no such concern.  "If anyone else on the team is infected, they'll need some of your blood, too.  Any other transgenic would survive, but not without symptoms.  We all need to be at 100% out there."

            "But I'm staying back here," Logan interrupted, a strange look on his face.  What's he thinking? Max wondered silently, feeling as if she was one step behind the "ordinaries."  She found the sensation was not entirely to her liking.

            "You have to stay," Lydecker agreed with a knowing nod.  Why? Max asked herself.  Why does Logan have to stay behind?  She looked at Alec, and saw that his face had gone at least three shades paler.  Oh crap, he knows too, she cursed silently.  It was bad enough to be slower than the ordinaries, but to have Alec figure something out before her was…  Then it suddenly hit her.  Oh no, Max thought, a strange feeling descending upon her stomach.  It was as if a flock of seagulls had suddenly taken flight inside her, and were now bouncing from one side of her body cavity to the other.  My blood's the cure, Max thought frantically.  And my blood would kill Logan just as surely as the cult's pathogen would.  He's dead either way…

            "When do we leave?" Alec asked, an earnest look on his face making Max certain that he was as distressed as she was.  Despite her best attempts to ignore the feeling, she was touched that he genuinely seemed to care.  "We have to get out there.  We have to stop them."

            "Not until the briefing is over, soldier," Lydecker replied, once again taking a deep breath before continuing.  This time Max knew the action hadn't been planned.  She also knew, however, that they all had to take a mental step back before continuing.  They had to clear their minds of distractions and emotions before they got into the nuts and bolts of the mission.  "I haven't even covered the basics yet, such as where we're going and what kind of resistance we're likely to encounter."

            I'm gonna throw up, Max suddenly realized, hot flashes starting to sweep across her face as her stomach began to feel even worse.  Then a strange feeling of peace suddenly washed over her, hitting her like a cool wave washing away the sweat and hot sand from a steamy day at the beach.  The seagulls in her stomach set down lightly, and Max's breathing became easier.  Deep down she could feel that everything was going to be okay.  She knew there would be a terrible fight, and that not everyone would come out of it alive, but she knew in the end it would be all right.  The sensation was unlike anything she had felt before… at least since she was in Jam Pony and realized that the Familiars were coming in.  Just what the hell am I? she wondered.  It feels like some kind of precognition… what the hell did Sandeman do to me?

            "It seems that the cult has had a bit of inner turmoil recently," Lydecker began, trying to get the briefing back on track.  "There's been some kind of a resistance within this past generation – a resistance that included Sandeman, the geneticist that came to the government with the idea and technology for the Manticore project that created all of you.  From what I've been able to gather, all of these resistors, save Sandeman, have been rounded up and terminated.  The cult has never been easy on rebellion."

            "This has happened before?" Zack asked.

            "Yes," Lydecker replied.  "The last time people opposed the plan of The Coming, as they call it, there was actually a greater threat to the cult.  It wasn't a rogue geneticist, though, since the technology didn't exist back then.  It was thousands of years ago, so the resistance did the only real thing it could – it started a new city-state and focused its efforts on stopping the Familiars."

            "A new city-state?" Max asked.

            "Troy," Lydecker replied.  "They started the city-state of Troy.  Everything seemed to be fine for several generations, at least until one of the Trojan Familiars seduced and abducted a particularly valuable Familiar broodmare."

            "Helen," Logan concluded.

            "Yes, Helen," the colonel confirmed.  "We all know the rest of the story, I assume.  Armies clashed, and several of the best specimens up to that point – Achilles, Hector, Ajax, Odysseus, and all the rest – struggled against each other even as the armies of ordinaries killed each other around them.  Eventually Troy fell and the resistance ended."

            "Just like it ended this time," Alec muttered.  His expression was just as coolly nonchalant as always, but Max could sense a hint of unease in Alec's voice that she knew none of the others had caught.  Of everyone in the room, she knew Alec best, and she was certain that he was starting to have doubts.  She had to do something to dispel his concerns.

            "It isn't over yet," Max said with all the stoicism she could muster, despite her own misgivings about Lydecker's assault.  "It isn't over until every one of the transgenics is killed.  It isn't over until those bastards find a way to kill me and stop my cure from ever getting out."

            "And I don't plan on letting that happen," Lydecker said evenly, that grim look of determination that Max knew so well washing over his features.

            "So what exactly is their plan?" Zack asked.  Now there's one that's all business, just like always, Max decided.  Once again, after the greater part of a year without him, Max was feeling as if Zack was her rock, the one person who would never stray from the mission, who would always be there to make certain that she would remain safe.  "I assume you know something specific."

            "A large contingent of Familiars has come to initiate The Coming," Lydecker said.  "This is our last – our only – chance to stop them for good."

            "Why here and why now?" Krit asked.

            "I assume they've decided on now because of what Sandeman's efforts have done to their plans.  The transgenics are resistant to their pathogen, and Max is completely immune.  They probably feel they have to release the pathogen before anyone figures out just what Max has.  If someone realizes they can create an antidote from her blood…  Well, it would likely be less than a year before millennia of planning is made completely obsolete."

            "So that's the why," Zack concluded with a satisfied nod.  "What about the location, though?  This doesn't make much sense.  In case they haven't noticed, it's a wasteland out there.  Releasing the pathogen here isn't likely to kill anybody."

            "The Familiars have a tremendous amount of adherence to custom and ritual," Lydecker explained.  "They've had to, after all, to keep a project like theirs together for millennia.  They're absolutely fanatical, and while that can be a great asset, it's also a great weakness.  That more than anything else is why they're here.

            "There's a little town not far from here, the remnants of an Israeli settlement built on the ruins of a much older city," Lydecker explained.  "The town was called Megiddo."

            "Oh my God," Logan muttered, immediately appearing surprised that the words had escaped his mouth.  His eyes darted around nervously, seeming to hope that no one had heard him.  He looked embarrassed when he obviously realized that he was in a room full of transgenics – nothing that escaped his lips was going to go unheard.

            "What?" Max asked.

            "In ancient times Megiddo was known by another name," Logan explained cryptically.

            "What?" Max repeated, suddenly becoming irritated at her friend's evasiveness.

            "Armageddon," Lydecker stated.  "The name comes from the hill at Megiddo – the Hebrew word for hill is har – so the Greek rendering of the word went from Har Megiddo to Armageddon.  According to prophecy, it's where the world ends.  I've searched several old maps and found a reference to something called the Well of the Seas.  It was apparently the water source for Megiddo.  In ancient times the city held off several sieges, and one of the reasons was their incredibly well developed water storage and supply system, both of which were essential in an arid climate.  According to legend, the Well of the Seas was connected to every lake and river in the world, and would thus never run dry."

            "But legends don't usually provide a great basis for strategy," Set muttered.  "Zack's point is still valid – this is a stupid place to release their pathogen, no matter what their old legends say."

            "But all legends have a basis in fact," Lydecker countered.  "As you see more of the world, you'll start to realize that.  My original conclusion was the same as yours, but just to be certain I ran a series of satellite images, mostly infrared but some ultrasonic scans, too.  While it isn't exactly accurate to say the Well of the Seas is connected to every ocean of the world, it does appear to be rather directly connected to the Mediterranean Sea, which leads out to the Atlantic; and the Jordan River, which eventually feeds into the Dead Sea, the Gulf of Aqaba, the Red Sea, to the Arabian Sea, and eventually into the Indian Ocean.  Treating the water in that well would mean that within days, this pathogen would be able to disperse into oceans on both sides of the world."

            "So obviously that's the place the Familiars want to poison with the pathogen," Zack concluded.  "I guess if they're hell bent on only releasing their pathogen in one place, this is as good a site as any."

            "That's right, and they're here because of tradition," Lydecker said.  "Technology could probably make this easier for them – imagine aerosolizing the snake blood and releasing it into the eye of a hurricane, or dispersing it in the upper atmosphere with a rocket and allowing it to rain down on an entire continent.  It would be far more effective, and almost impossible to stop them.  Instead, in order to avoid heresy comparable to Sandeman's dabbling in genetics, they've returned en masse to the home of prophecy, to release their plague upon the world as it was foretold so long ago."

            "So you're saying that the ancient prophecies were all about the Familiars?" Alec asked dubiously.

            "Yes," Lydecker answered.  "At least, that's what my best researchers have decided.  Apparently, from what I'm told, there's a bit of confusion because of all the translating and retranslating of legends which took place as various civilizations rose and fell in the Mediterranean region thousands of years ago.  We all know that the Familiars have some kind of Minoan connection – they use Linear-A as their written language.  No one knows much about Minoan religion, but there are images of men with lion's paws which seem to have been sacred in some way, and we think that this image was actually the original sigil used by the members of this breeding cult."

            "Meaning that the ancient Minoans worshipped the Familiars?" Max asked.

            "Possibly," Lydecker replied.  "We just don't know enough to make any real conclusions about that.  Anyway, after the Minoan capital of Knossos was all but destroyed by a volcanic eruption and the civilization fell, it's reasonable to assume that the survivors spread out, hopefully looking to avoid losing their entire population in another natural disaster.  Our theory is that one prominent group went to Greece, and another went into Persia.  The creature now referred to as a manticore was first referenced in Persia sometime in the fifth century, B.C., and was called martikhoras in the old Persian.  From there, as one would expect according to our theory, the legend and image of the manticore quickly spread to Greece.

            "Anyway, back in old Persian territory, where Megiddo was located, prophecies of the end of the world were being recorded," Lydecker continued.  "Some images contain demons and angels, the forces of light and darkness, fighting on the har Megiddo.  By our reckoning, there was a mistranslation that led the image of the manticore to be interpreted not as a militant human cult, but as a supernatural, demonic army."

            "That's reasonable enough looking at the world through the eyes of an ancient human," Logan interrupted.  "If these Familiars were half as strong then as they are now, they would have appeared to be superhuman warriors, all but untouchable on the battlefield."  Max found herself looking from Logan to Lydecker, trying to figure out which episode of The Twilight Zone she had walked into.  She had never heard Lydecker give an extended diatribe on ancient history, and from the look of her siblings, she guessed none of them had ever heard the colonel go on like this, either.  And to have Logan dive right in and start finishing the colonel's thoughts?  Way too weird…

            "You seem to understand our reasoning completely," Lydecker agreed with Logan, seeming relieved that someone else in the room seemed to follow his group's assumptions.  "Which brings us back to the prophecies of the end of the world, and their plans to poison the Well of the Seas."

            "The rivers will run red with blood," Logan muttered almost imperceptibly.  Max looked at him nervously, hoping he was holding himself together better than his voice made her fear he was.  Logan looked back at her, and a strange, rueful smile spread on his lips.  "I always figured the prophecies of doom and gloom were more figurative than literal… didn't think it meant that a bunch of kooks were gonna dump a lot of snake's blood in an old well."  Max couldn't help but grin in response.

            "What's the threat assessment?" Zack suddenly asked, predictably being the one to bring the group's attention back to the threat from the Familiars.

            "We're unsure," Lydecker relied hesitantly.  "Logan helped get our system hooked into a geo-synchronous spy satellite, so we've had the area around Megiddo under surveillance for the past eight hours.  There's definitely been some movement, but most everyone is covered head to toe to protect against sand, sun, and radioactive particulate matter.  Can't see faces, so we can only estimate the numbers."

            "And what's the estimate?" Zack asked.

            "At least twenty," Lydecker answered.  "I would assume there would be a few more than that, but I'd doubt more than forty.  We've been able to get a decent view of the underground complex that leads to the well, but while we can get a good idea of the layout, we can't get enough detail to do much counting of individual heat sources.  Sorry, but between twenty and forty is the best estimate I can get us."

            "Even twenty is way over the top," Alec said.  Max could only assume Alec was remembering the beating he took at the hands of just one Familiar back at Jam Pony.  That was where the odds were even, and that was definitely a close call, she thought as she looked around at her comrades in arms.  And here we have me, Set, Alec, Zack, Krit, and the colonel.  We could be outnumbered up to 7-1… this is insane.

            "We have one thing that the Familiars don't have, though," Lydecker said.

            "The element of surprise," Krit commented.

            "Maybe, but I won't make that assumption," the colonel said evenly.  "What we have is years of military training that taught us to function as a group.  Most every one of the Familiars lives a double-life, needing to blend in with the ordinaries even as they prepare for the apocalypse.  That takes time away from training."

            "It's not exactly like all of us have spent the last ten years training, either," Max reminded the colonel.

            "But you started as soon as you could walk," Lydecker retorted.  "The Familiars don't even indoctrinate their people until they're strong enough to survive infection with the pathogen.  All of you learned to fight at the same time you learned to talk.  The human body has a capacity for development of motor skills that is unparalleled in early youth.  You all took advantage of that, and our enemies didn't.  One on one, I seriously doubt that when it got down to it, any of them would be a match for you.  You showed that much at Jam Pony."

            "But it ain't one on one out there," Max reminded everybody.  She hated being the one to complain, but she also felt the need to point out the obvious.

            "And that's where our teamwork comes in," Lydecker replied, setting his gaze directly at Max, boring into her eyes in a staring match.  "And we also have some of the best military equipment in the world at our disposal," the colonel added.

            "What?" Max asked.  "No way, Deck.  You know how I feel about that."

            "I knew this was gonna be a problem for you, Max," Lydecker sighed in disappointed exasperation.  "I know you don't like using weapons, but we really don't have a choice here.  We're gonna have to cross hundreds of yards of open space at a time, and we'll be sitting ducks without firearms.  And like you said, it ain't one on one out there.  We need every equalizer that we can get.  It's not just our victory that's at stake."

            "Fine," Max spat, wanting to press the issue but also knowing that given the circumstances, challenging the colonel's authority before battle could doom them even more effectively than being outnumbered.  "But don't expect me to like it."  She hated the thought of firing a weapon at someone, at tearing an enemy to pieces with bullets rather than simply immobilizing him temporarily.  But he's right, she had to admit.  With odds like these…

            "Dismissed," Lydecker stated loudly, knocking Max out of her reverie.  Everyone stood to leave, and Max was starting to move toward Logan when the colonel got to him first.  "If you could stay behind, son?" Lydecker asked.  I guess that's my cue to leave, Max decided.  She figured she could always find out later what the colonel had said behind their backs.

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            "What do you want?" Logan asked once all of the X-5's had left the room.

            "I assume that's not a rhetorical question," Lydecker replied.  "Don't know that I have enough time to list everything I want.  Let me sum it up in one thing, though.  I want forgiveness… or at least understanding."

            "Then you're asking the wrong person," Logan replied, making certain his face was devoid of any feeling, especially pity.

            "I'm not going to ask anyone," Deck shot back.  "I'm not foolish enough to ever think it's even possible to ask for forgiveness for what I've done to those kids.  I can only satisfy myself with the knowledge that it was necessary."

            "Was it?" Logan shot back, not missing a beat.

            "Damn right," Lydecker growled.  "If I had to do all over again, I wouldn't change a goddamn thing.  Doesn't make me feel better about it, though.  Sometimes we have to do things we don't like, and sometimes the right thing can hurt innocent people.  I don't know why my kids can't understand that.  Of course, it's not like they have a choice about anything right now, running from the government, the ordinaries, and White's cronies all at the same time.  It never should have come to this, Logan; they're not ready for it.  I devoted my life to them, preparing them to fight, and it never occurred to me to show them how to live.  It's my greatest mistake, and believe me I've made more than my share.  They're in this situation because of me, so with all I've done, I know I can't ask any of them for forgiveness… I can only hope to find it for myself.  I'm going to start with this," he added, digging into his pocket and producing a small, white box, which he handed to Logan.

            "What is it?" Logan asked curiously, hesitant to open the box for fear of what Lydecker might have put inside.

            "Open it," the colonel instructed.

            Despite his concerns, Logan did as he was told.  Inside he found a ring with the initials LC.  "Gee, thanks Deck, I always wanted an initial ring," he said sarcastically.  The cheesiness of the gesture made Logan want to puke all over Lydecker's brightly polished combat boots.  Still, however, there was something about the ring that Logan found intriguing, and an almost imperceptible gleam in the colonel's expression that he found reminiscent of James Bond's Q.

            "The insignia hides a hollow compartment," Lydecker replied, seeming to ignore Logan's attitude.  "Inside the compartment you'll find three pieces of microfilm."

            "What's on them?" Logan asked, suddenly very curious.  And how do you think they're gonna get you forgiveness?

            "One piece of film lists over a dozen cells of transgenics that I've organized, all of them currently training to form units of their own again," the colonel said.  "Whether we succeed or not out there tonight, there's still gonna be a lot more fighting ahead.  All of them were told about you, and all will accept your orders if you go to them."

            "My orders?" Logan asked.  "You've got to be kidding.  I'm no soldier."

            "No, you're no soldier," Lydecker agreed, "but you're a natural leader, and you're a fair man.  You'll treat them well.  And most of all, you're an ordinary.  Like I said, there's lots of fighting to go, and in the end the ordinaries will have to deal with the fact that one of their own is leading the Manticore transgenics.  Our group will seem less like genetically engineered monsters hell-bent on global domination is they're all taking their orders from an ordinary.  It has to be this way, and you're the only man in the world I could ever trust with this job."

            "And why not you?" Logan asked.

            "It will be me… if I come back," Lydecker countered.  "I'm just preparing a contingency plan for if something goes wrong out there.  In case you hadn't noticed, I'm going to be the only ordinary in a battle between transgenics and Familiars.  I may not like admitting it, but my odds aren't all that good."

            "Fine," Logan said without a trace of sympathy in his voice.  "So I assume that's what's on one of the pieces of microfilm.  What about the others?"

            "The second piece has the decryption program for all of my research," Lydecker told him.  "It also lists the locations of each of six copies of my files.  I spread them around for obvious reasons.  I have all kinds of information, Logan, including valuable data that I stole from one of the Familiars' safe houses, complete with some detailed genealogy charts.  I have lists of names of Familiars within the government, detailed biogenetic analyses of the Familiars' pathogen, and also an analysis that was just concluded on Max's antigen.  We've already started culturing the antigen in Max's blood, and within a month and a half we should have our first batch of antigens to distribute to the populace.  Basically, I have copies of every bit of information you'll ever need to shine the light of day on those sons of bitches."

            "Whoah," Logan muttered, amazed at how much it sounded Lydecker had gotten his hands on.  During the past half year, while everyone thought him dead, the colonel had apparently succeeded in recruiting a small, elite military force while all the while gathering every possible piece of pertinent information on his foes.  He had seen this conflict coming a mile away.

            "The last piece of microfilm," Lydecker added, is for you.  "I guess you could say it's a 'Thank You' gift for you, though it's just as much of an 'I'm Sorry' gift for Max."

            "What is it?"

            "It's the gene sequence of a rather special lymphocyte," Lydecker replied.  "It's what you need to develop an immunity to Max's genetically engineered virus."

            "What?" Logan asked, feeling his legs go weak.  For the briefest of moments he was afraid that his paralysis had returned, but then he realized he was simply overcome with stunned excitement.  "A cure?"

            "More precisely, it's a vaccine," Lydecker corrected.  "Well, sort of, anyway.  The cure is actually a retrovirus in its own right.  It'll attack Max's virus, which was specifically designed to attack you.  I used the same Manticore technology that Sandeman first created to destroy the Familiars' pathogen."

            "You didn't have to do that, it's not like we're like that," Logan said, almost out of habit.  "At least, not anymore, that is," he amended, trying once again to figure out exactly where he fit into Max's life.  He loved her, and had told her, only to have her turn his back on him because of the virus.  He couldn't blame her; in fact, part of him applauded what he felt was one of the few responsible decisions she had made since he'd met her.  But that hadn't lessened the blow when he'd seen her with Alec… or when she'd finally admitted that she and Alec were together.  Logan had thought the emotional pain of losing his legs was bad, but he'd learned that losing the one he loved more than any other was far worse than the loss of any physical faculty.  Then had come the siege at Jam Pony, and an all-too-brief respite that led to a second siege in Terminal City.  There, feeling alone against the world, Logan had felt Max come back to him, leaning against him for the strength she needed to hold her people together until she found within herself the power to lead, to command.  Logan had given all he could, and he had felt Max grow closer once again.

            "Of course you and Max aren't like that," Lydecker commented, his tone making it clear that he was obviously humoring Logan.  "If you two kids want to keep playing at whatever game you have, be my guest.  But if you want to be together, you'll be able to do that without fear of sudden death.  Doesn't mean things'll work out, just that the two of you will have the same chance as any other couple… for whatever that's worth."

            "I don't even have the words…" Logan muttered, for the first time seeing Lydecker in a new light and wondering if his constant abrasive treatment of the man had been totally warranted.

            "A simple 'thank you' will suffice, son," Lydecker replied.  "Just make sure not to let Max know about it before we leave, okay?  I know you two are tight, and I can see in your faces that there's lots of unresolved stuff that needs to be addressed.  For obvious reasons, we can't let this be the time that she starts dealing with all that emotional junk."

            "I understand," Logan said, seeing the truth in the colonel's words.

            "Oh, and one other thing, Logan," Lydecker advised.  "If I were you, I'd transfuse at least a pint of transgenic blood into you before using that treatment.  The initial effects will be very nasty, and I honestly don't know if you'd survive the process without some help from one of my kids."

            "Understood," Logan said, shaking his head at the fact that Lydecker still referred to Manticore's trangenics as 'his kids.'  I guess that means they're about to have a family outing, he thought sarcastically.  I guess I better get to the Operations Center and make sure there won't be too many heavily armed men waiting for them.

To be continued……………………………

Author's Endnote: I just wanted to mention that I truly hope this chapter was as good as I wanted it to be.  I hate to ask for reviews, but I put more effort than usual into this installment (and, as I mentioned above, I got some great help) and I would like to know if there's anything in particular I did or did not do well.  So please take a minute to review, even if you didn't like it.  I could use all the help I can get to get better.