By Valjean
Negotiations
"Lose the gun," Max said.
"Aw, Max. Come on. I've gotta have somethin' to defend us with. I'm supposed to be your bodyguard aren't I?"
"I said no guns. And you're not my bodyguard. If anything, I'm yours seein' as how I'm always rescuin' your ass."
"Why no guns?"
"One, it will make them trust us even less. Two, they'll probably just take it away from you. And three, I don't trust you not to do something stupid with it."
"Like shoot myself in the foot."
"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Alec."
"Max, we're at war. We're soldiers. We're supposed to be armed."
"This is a peace negotiation, not a battle."
"I'm not so sure about that. What if White's there?" His words finally gave Max pause. "Do you know if Ames is in on this? Did they give you any details," he pressed.
Max was looking like a thundercloud. "No. All they said was to meet them outside our main gate at nine this morning."
Alec checked his watch. Two minutes to go. He put his hand on the .45 automatic in his belt, not risking his favorite Glock to confiscation.
"Max, I know this might be a little bit late to say, but did it occur to you that all they have to do is kill the two of us and this whole transgenic nation idea of yours will fall apart?"
"They don't know that," Max said nervously.
There was the sound of a vehicle approaching the other side of the gate. Alec glanced up at the lookout who nodded. "You real sure you want to do this?"
"We don't have any choice," she said in a low voice. "You know we don't."
Alec hated to admit it, but he had to agree. They certainly couldn't stay holed up in Terminal City forever. Sooner or later negotiations would have to begin, and they probably had more leverage now than they would later when the mutants within began to get restless. As for himself, there was no way he was going to let Max go into something like this with anyone but him by her side. "Let's do it," he said.
Their people opened the makeshift gates and the two X5's walked through to where a jeep was waiting. There was a driver, and no one else.
"Where are we going?" Max asked as they both climbed in.
"Sector Police headquarters," the driver said, giving them a sideways look.
"Whoa! I thought this was gonna be some place neutral," Alec said. He looked back over his shoulder at Terminal City. There was still time to jump out and retreat. Then he saw the resolved expression on Max's face and knew that wasn't going to happen. Resigned to his fate, Alec sighed heavily and slouched in the jeep's back seat, the pressure of the .45 against his spine giving little comfort.
Alec made it all the way up the steps to the Sector Police Station's front door before he found himself with a rifle pointed at his chest. "Halt!" the young guardsman said. Two others came forward and began to frisk them. Max started to protest, but Alec shook his head, the look in his eyes warning her to stand down. He knew the drill and there was no use complaining. Still, it had been worth a try. Besides, he wasn't all that upset about losing the gun. He could always acquire another if necessary. Afterall, he was an X5, a highly trained, genetically engineered killing machine -- or at least that's what the yaps on the TV news kept saying. What better weapon was there than himself?
He smiled his most apologetic smile at the guardsman who confiscated the automatic, and got a blank stare in return. So much for making nice, Alec thought. These soldiers were even more brainwashed than he'd been -- convinced that the mutants were the enemy.
They were escorted inside and entered an elevator. The meeting was on the fourth floor in a room with several chairs surrounding a conference table. Alec immediately noted the lack of windows and ventilation ducts.
"We're gonna be trapped like rats," he said under his breath to Max. "I can't believe you talked me into doing this."
"Shut up."
They took two seats and waited. A minute or so later the door opened and a National Guard officer entered followed by what had to be the sector police chief. Alec looked over at Max, and saw her still staring at the door.
"What is it?" he asked in a low voice.
The door opened once more and Max's face paled. Alec turned in his seat -- and with a thud of his heart, he understood.
Lydecker. Alive.
"Max?" Alec said, his voice rising, wondering if this might not be their cue to exit in a dramatic fashion. But her hand on his arm kept him in his seat.
"Wait," she said. "He's on our side, remember?"
"He's Manticore," Alec shot back. Lydecker was staring at them, looking almost as shaken as Max.
"Wait," Max repeated. And Alec knew he would.
The National Guard officer cleared his throat. "I'm Major Donahue. This is Police Chief Wyatt. "I presume I'm speaking with 452?"
"My name's Max."
"And your companion?" He tilted his head in Alec's direction.
"494," Lydecker said.
Of course Lydecker would remember him.
"His name's Alec," Max said evenly.
"Alec McDowell." It was Wyatt who spoke. He turned to the major. "A fugitive from justice wanted for the murder of Timothy Ryan and a suspect in the murder of at least ten others. No matter what kind of negotiations you complete today, this ... mutant ... isn't leaving the building. He's under arrest."
Alec narrowed his eyes. Shit.
"I thought you straightened that out," Max hissed in his ear.
"I was going to," Alec said. "But I've been a little busy."
"Did you say 494?" Donahue asked, looking through a sheaf of papers. He came to a page, paused, and slowly turned angry eyes on Alec. "He's also wanted by the United States Government for seven other murders, all believed to have been hired hits." He turned to Lydecker. "This son of a bitch is one of your assassins!"
"Wait a minute!" Max shouted. At the same time Lydecker stood up, his chair pushed back so quickly it overturned.
Alec wondered if he should feel special, being the center of attention and all. At the very least he supposed he needed to defend himself. But when he started to say something--
"Shut up!" Max said, putting her hand over his mouth. "Let me handle this. You'll just make it worse." She turned to Lydecker. "Tell them about Ben."
"Who?" Lydecker said.
"493. Tell them about him right now!"
Lydecker was staring at Alec now. "He's a mirror image, isn't he?" he said softly.
"What's this about a 493?" Chief Wyatt said.
"494 ... Alec ... had an identical twin brother, 493, who's your real murderer," Lydecker said. "There would of course be a perfect DNA match between the two because they're essentially clones."
"Thank you," Alec said adamantly, glad that Lydecker seemed inclined to clear him, but miffed that he had to go through this shit about Ben yet again.
"So there's another one who looks just like this one running around loose?" the chief asked, his voice incredulous.
"No," Max said. "Ben died over a year ago, while Alec was locked up at Manticore. Your murderer is dead, and Alec has an airtight alibai." She looked to Lydecker for confirmation. He nodded.
"And the hired hits?" Donahue asked, still glaring at Alec.
Alec shrugged. "My bad." Hey, what could he say? "But they were carried out under government orders. Of course I've changed careers since then, traded in my sniper's rifle for the fast paced world of a bike messenger service."
"Are you telling us the U.S. government ordered the death of Rachel Berrisford?" Donahue asked.
Alec swallowed hard. "Collateral damage," he said huskily. Rachel, forgive me for calling you that.
"Acceptable in his line of work," Lydecker added. "Give it up, Major. The boy isn't guilty of anything you can bring charges for."
"That remains to be seen," Donahue said. "However, I assure you, once this situation is resolved there are going to be trials."
"Hey!" Max said loudly. "I thought we were here to negotiate about my people in Terminal City, not crucify my second in command!"
Second in command? Alec wondered if Max was joking.
"If you want to deal with me, you also deal with Alec. Remember that." she said.
Lydecker was smiling and shaking his head, as if Max amused him, and Alec's distrust of the man grew stronger.
"What's your deal?" she said.
"It's a simple matter, really," Donahue said. "All of your people are to surrender to the military."
"Are you out of your mind?" Alec said. Now he was on his feet as well.
Two armed guards who had stepped inside the door earlier reached for their weapons. Donahue's hand stayed them.
"Turn ourselves over to be killed?" Max said. "Not likely."
"Not killed," Donahue said. "To serve."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means they want you to return to your true vocation in life," Lydecker said. "They want all of you to come home."
"You mean they want me to be an assassin again?" Alec said."I dunno. I did get to see the world, but the pay and the hours were lousy, plus the health plan was a real pain. I don't think so."
"You'd all be put to use according to your abilities," Lydecker tried. "You'd be safe, protected. On the outside world you're out of your element. You and 452 were never meant to be living with ordinary humans. They hate and fear you, and eventually they'll kill you. I've been assured by the government that a new Manticore will be built, a place for all of you to return to."
"A new Manticore?" Max said. "Hey, I just finished takin' down the old one. Why the hell would I want it rebuilt?"
"Do you have an alternative plan, Max?" Lydecker asked.
"Yeah," she said. "How about just letting all of us walk out of Terminal City and assume our rightful places as U.S. citizens. Oh, and we could use some of that government aide you guys are always doling out as well, just to get us on our feet. Maybe some job training, education vouchers, food stamps, health coverage ... I figure you owe us big time. First you created us, then you used us, and now you want to throw us away like garbage. Well, you aren't going to get away with it. There could be lawsuits you know."
"That's not going to happen, Max," Lydecker said.
"I want to talk to someone higher up than this dingle," she said, eying Donahue.
"Max," Lydecker said quietly. "You've been given your offer. Safe passage out of Terminal City for all of the mutants and a place to live and serve under government protection. Take the offer to your people."
Max looked at Alec who still had two guns pointed at him. He shrugged once more. What else could they do right now?
"Fine," Max said tiredly, standing to leave. "I'll go back and talk to them. But I already know what the answer's going to be."
"They'll do whatever you say," Lydecker said. "You know that."
"They'll do what's right," Max replied. "Come on, Alec. We'll ask the nice men if you can have your gun back on the way out."
"Wait a minute," Wyatt said.
"What?"
"I'm afraid 494 will have to stay here while you take the message to the others."
"What?" Max said. "Like hell he will."
"It's why we asked for a second person to come with you. We knew you'd have to return, but as long as we're holding your companion your cooperation is more assured."
"You mean I'm a hostage?" Alec said slowly. He turned to Max. "See. I told you so. I told you this was a trap."
"Shut up."
"What if I go back to Terminal City and my people say no to your plan? What happens then?" Max asked.
"War," Donahue replied. Then he looked at Alec. "And right here's your first casualty."
"In other words, 452," the police chief said, "either you talk your mutant army into surrendering peacefully so my town doesn't get torn apart, or your murderin' boyfriend here is going to find out what happens to pretty young mutants like him in our prison system. In fact, I rather doubt he'll survive the experience." He motioned to the two armed men. "Arrest him," he said, pointing to Alec. "Book him on murder and take him to a holding cell. Twin or not, I say we've got our man."