14. Here Be Dragons
A dark band of cloth covered his eyes. He didn't need to see. He lovingly reassembled the antique Sako TRG-42. Being ambidextrous, he appreciated that the stock accommodated both left and right-hand shooters. With his genetic gifts, with this weapon in hand, he had a range in excess of a mile. Or he would have, in a few years, when his hands got bigger. He held the rifle forward for inspection, satisfied. The instructor slapped him, then slapped him again. What had he done wrong? He began to struggle. He was going to be recycled, cut up for spare parts! He felt tremendous sadness.
The blindfold was removed and his eyes gradually focused. He saw Normal peering owlishly at him, holding a wet washcloth. He was in Normal's office. His boss seemed strangely subdued. Normal said something that he couldn't catch; it was like a movie with frames missing. His face shimmered, then he had an animal face, his true self revealed at last. He was Normal, but he was also a big yellow dog.
Alec sat up, alarmed. He had absolutely no idea what was going on.
Max stood on the roof of a tall apartment building, in a section of town that was known for being upscale, as it was more or less intact. She was wearing her cat suit and harness. The wind blew back her dark hair.
Smalton had a little apartment in the next building. She was aiming for his balcony. She got a running start, and leapt into the night. She flew.
"The place was picked clean," she told Logan later. Logan seemed to have redecorated his apartment. Everything was moved around, and there was a movie poster tacked to the wall by his bedroom. Max wondered why he would be spring cleaning now, then dismissed it as one of the human rituals she had missed out on, growing up in a secret military installation. Probably men redecorated all the time. Logan was certainly very homey.
"So you didn't find anything?" Logan asked, disappointed.
"Only this," she said. "It was in a frame in the kitchen, behind the real picture."
She unrolled a medium sized map of Pacific County on the coffee table.
"How did you know to look for it?" asked Logan, considering the map. "I never would have thought to look in a picture frame."
"Oh," Max said disdainfully, "people hide stuff in picture frames all the time, Logan. They think they're being so original. Like you would never think to check because it's right in plain sight."
She was looking down at the map, so she didn't see Logan glance involuntarily toward the bedroom. "Like 'The Purloined Letter,' huh?" he said wryly.
Max said, "Uh-huh," but Logan knew she had no clue what he was talking about. There were some obvious gaps in Max's education.
"Look," she said. "I think it's indicating a facility of some sort. See where it says 'Stronghold?' Isn't that like a fort, or something?"
"Could just be the name of a town," he said.
"That's easy enough to find out, right?" she asked. She smiled up at him, and he was caught, as always, by her beauty. Max had clear olive skin and dark eyes. There was something cute and pretty about her mouth that made his heart turn over. Manticore hadn't succeeded in killing him outright, but he thought they'd be pretty satisfied with their misfire. Being this close, and not able to touch, made him die a little each day.
They were bred to be beautiful, these fucked-up kid soldiers. He thought of Alec, and shuddered. Where the hell was Alec, and what was he doing now? Shortly, he was going to have to have to tell Max what had happened.
He went to his computer and called up a state map.
"No," he said. "Maybe you're right. There's no such place listed."
Max looked very excited. "I think we're still on target," she said. "There's something there. I think Eva sent Smalton a package with information that implicated his boss in the cult. All kinds of government types are involved right? We've suspected that all along. Now he's gone, either he took off, or White got him too."
"At least it wouldn't be our fault this time," said Logan.
"I don't think it was our fault last time, either," Max insisted. "I think Eva didn't quite understand how creepy-covert all this stuff is. She maybe just wanted information, and contacted Smalton. He talked to the wrong person, and boom. White and his cronies rolled up and shut down everyone."
"Now who's making big leaps of deduction?" asked Logan.
"But it feels like it fits." Max shrugged. "And we just have this one little clue, but it's a lot."
"You know," said Logan, "a stronghold can also be a place where a controversial group meets. Maybe it's Eva's word, and not theirs. Maybe she was labeling them."
"Like, that they're kooks," said Max.
"Yeah," said Logan. "Oh, shit!"
"What?" asked Max, as Logan jumped in his chair.
"Hang on, hang on," he said. "Look." He handed her a page. "It is Eva's word. See that chart she made? Pacific/Stronghold."
"She's saying that's where she traced them to," breathed Max.
"Yeah," said Logan. "Looks like it."
"I have to go there," Max said.
To be continued. . .