By Valjean
Old Friend/Old Enemy
Two hundred feet into the tunnel Alec ran into his first obstacle -- literally. The diggers had put braces across the ceiling while shoring up the walls. Unfortunately, the little guys were a full foot shorter than an X5. Alec cracked his head hard enough to almost knock himself out.
"Shit!" he yelled. "Ow!" Dropping the flashlight, he rubbed his forehead. A lump was already forming. Max will probably think I've been in a bar fight. Looking sheepishly back down the tunnel, he was glad he couldn't see any light. Hopefully no one had heard him yell. With a heavy sigh, he picked up the flashlight and set off again, this time keeping an eye on the ceiling as well as the walls.
The further he went into the tunnel, the damper and mustier it got. He figured he was about halfway through when the footing changed, the ground becoming mud instead of stone. This must be how far the tide reached, he thought, making a mental note for the return trip. Another five minutes and he'd reached the end, the fresh sea air and roar of surf letting him know in advance that the beach was just ahead. Cautiously, he stepped out onto the sand, looking around to make certain no one was watching. The place was utterly deserted. So far, so good.
He found a wide dirt bike track half a mile down the shore that wound up the cliff. It emerged on a narrow paved road with "Keep Out" and "Danger" signs posted on a flimsy wooden gate. This, in turn, led to the highway about three quarters of a mile away. The setting was almost too perfect. A skilled driver would be able to bring a semi down the trail directly onto the beach. With luck, they could unload the cargo and get a truck or two out within an hour's time. The rising tide at dawn would erase any sign of the activity, keeping the tunnel entrance secret. The semis would, of course, be found abandoned somewhere on the other side of the city. Or, if they absolutely had to, they could probably sink them in the sea.
Satisfied, Alec turned his attention to the lights of Seattle beyond. He knew there was a truck stop just up the road. Another few minutes and he was carefully looking around the parking lot, picking out a suitable vehicle. A sleek black Harley caught his eye. Not as nice as Max's Ninja, but it would do.
The big chain grocery warehouses were on the east side of town. Even though the hour was late, workers were busily loading and unloading large shipments of frozen food, canned goods, and fresh produce. Choosing a target wouldn't be difficult. With the right squad, he could easily hijack a couple of the trucks and be gone within minutes. The real trick would be buying enough time before the police were called, which meant restraining everyone on the premises and not setting off any alarms. With his natural night vision, he watched for several hours from the perimeter of a warehouse located on the edge of the industrial park -- counting heads, calculating shift changes, assessing the security.
The job was definitely possible, Alec decided after observing the shift change at 4 a.m. No more than a dozen men were around at any one time. A squad of six ought to be able to handle securing the warehouse and hijacking two trucks. He looked at his watch and smiled. This reminded him of old times at Manticore, when he and his team would go out on reconnaissance missions, mapping territory, scouting the enemy, preparing for a strike. In a way, he felt more in his element tonight than he had since Manticore went down. This was what he'd been trained to do -- his job. The only difference was, this time he didn't have orders to kill anyone.
Finished with his task, Alec was about ready to head back to the tunnel when he had an idea. It wasn't even five a.m. yet. He had a good hour left before the sun came up and the tide came in. Jam Pony was located in the next sector over, and he knew a way around the security checkpoint there. He could be in and out in half an hour. Maybe he could pay a visit to an old friend.
He watched from the shadows for almost a minute, surprised at the feeling of nostalgia. He'd taken this job by free choice, something Manticore had never allowed, and he'd honestly liked working here. He also owed this place big time because it's where he'd made his first real friends -- something else Manticore had never permitted. In a way, Jam Pony was the beginning of his life -- the beginning of "Alec" -- almost as much as Max was.
Normal was going about his usual early morning tasks, getting packages and invoices ready for the early morning runs. Puttering behind the counter, he was humming a little tune, stopping occasionally to take a sip of coffee from the mug on his desk.
Alec had come through one of the broken upstairs windows. Now, he stepped forward into the narrow pool of light that separated the rest of the office from darkness.
"We're closed," Normal said without looking up from the orders he was sorting. "Come back in an hour."
Amused, Alec glanced at the locked front door and cleared his throat.
"I said we're--" Normal finally looked up. "Oh my God, it's you!" He hurriedly came around the counter, wiping his hands on his shirt. "It's really you!"
Alec smiled and held his arms wide. "It's really me, boss. I'm back."
"Oh, it really is you!" Normal squealed, wrapping his arms around Alec and holding on as if wasn't ever going to let go.
Alec endured the affectionate hug for as long as he could before finally taking hold of Normal's arms and gently prying the man off his torso. "How ya been, Normal?" he asked.
"How have I been? How have you been?"
"I'm doin' all right," Alec said.
"I thought you people were surrounded out there," Normal said. Then he grinned. "But of course they couldn't keep my Golden Boy down for long."
"So, I'm still your Golden Boy?" Alec said. "Even though I'm--"
"Genetically empowered?" Normal finished for him. He was still smiling. "Hey, I'm an educated man now. And after seeing that little baby ... well, let's just say I'm looking at things differently."
Alec smiled slyly. "Now that wouldn't have anything to do with this book you're gonna write does it? It's been on the news.What were you gonna call it? 'I Delivered a Transgenic Baby?' I hear you're makin' the talk show rounds too."
Normal actually blushed. "I'm merely letting people know the other side of the story," he stammered. "I'd never ... I don't mean to ..."
"Normal, it's all right," Alec said gently. "I really just wanted to make sure you were okay. Have the Sector Police been botherin' you? And how's the elbow?" Alec cradled his own arm, the injured one, without thinking.
"My elbow's fine and holly Jesus, I forgot," Normal said, the color draining from his face. "You were shot. Are you ...?
"I'm all right," Alec said, flexing his left arm and shoulder so Normal could see. "One advantage of bein' a transgenic is that we heal real fast."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Normal said, feeling the need to squeeze the muscle in Alec's biceps just to make sure.
"Right as rain," Alec laughed, bending his arm so Normal could feel his strength through the lightweight material of his black shirt.
"Are you leaving Seattle?"
Alec chewed his lower lip a moment then said, "You're better off not knowin' what I'm gonna do, Normal. It's safer that way, for both of us."
"Will I ever see you again?"
Alec wasn't certain how to answer. He didn't want to lie to Normal, but he didn't want the man trying to find him either. "Probably not," he finally said. Normal's lower lip quivered. "But it's possible," he added quickly.
"Do you need anything?" Normal asked, the tears held at bay for now. "Food? Medicine? Money?" He moved around the counter to the cash drawer and pulled out a stack of bills.
Alec held up his hand. "Thanks," he said. "But I'm fine. It means a lot to me though, you offerin' to help."
"They say your people are going to be arrested," Normal said. "But they don't know how soon. The government's trying to make up its mind who has jurisdiction, and where to put you afterwards."
"I kinda imagine they won't put us anywhere, Normal," Alec said quietly. "They'll kill us -- if they can."
Normal looked like he was going to cry again.
"I've gotta go," Alec said, his own voice suddenly husky.
"I know. Be careful. Be real careful."
"I will, buddy," Alec said. And then Alec did something he'd rarely done in his life. He threw his arms around Normal and hugged him tightly.
"Sir," Otto said. "Sir, I think we've got something."
Ames White moved to the video monitor. On the screen were two men talking. One was Reagan Ronald, manager of Jam Pony Messenger Service. The other, dressed all in black, was--
"494." White snarled rather than spoke the word.
"Guess those hidden cameras paid off after all, sir," Otto said. "You thought one of them might try to contact Ronald and you were right."
"I'm always right," White said, his lips drawn into a thin bitter line. "Get the men together. "It may not be 452, but this piece of transgenic filth is the next best thing. Once we've got him, we've got her." He looked at the monitor for another moment, savoring what was about to happen. Then he took out his gun and checked the cartridges, spinning the chamber. "This time 494, the explosion in your head is gonna put you down for good."