By Valjean
The Cure
Max tested her shackles for the tenth time, and for the tenth time the steel bands encircling her wrists, waist, and ankles refused to give. There was no use fighting any more. They had her, and she wasn't going to get loose.
"Hey!" she tried shouting at the lone man guarding her. He was seated in the corner, his chair tipped back against the wall, a rifle carelessly cradled in his arms. "Who the hell are you people?"
He ignored her. She guessed by his appearance and the long robe he was wearing that he was from a middle eastern country, maybe Iran or Iraq, possibly Egypt. He probably didn't even speak English.
Giving up for now, she forced herself to relax, and tried to remember what had happened.
"You must be 452," Carpeni had said, greeting her at the hotel room door. "I've been expecting you." He was a rotund, balding, fatherly looking man wearing thick-lensed spectacles, a typical Manticore scientist type, probably one of the subcontractors. He spoke with a slight lisp.
"Logan told me where to find you," Max said. "You have what I came for?"
Carpeni took out a small black case. Inside was a hypodermic syringe filled with amber liquid.
"That will get rid of this virus in me? For good?"
"The cure will be permanent," Carpeni assured her. "When I heard your friend Mr. Cale was seeking an antidote for this particular virus, I began working on one using my notes from Manticore. I was actually the person who originally created the retrovirus infecting you, albeit a slightly different strain, and suggested it could be used as a biological weapon of assassination. The antidote was not hard to manufacture once Mr. Cale sent me a sample of his blood, along with paying my fee."
"Fee? What fee? How much?"
"One hundred thousand dollars," Carpeni said.
Max wondered where on Earth Logan had gotten that kind of cash, but she was already rolling up her sleeve. Leave it to Logan to find a way. However, just as the needle was about to pierce her skin, she looked up and said, "I'm pregnant. This won't hurt the baby will it?"
Carpeni smiled his fatherly smile. "On the contrary, it's a good thing you've come to me now, before the fetus matures beyond the first stage of development. If you don't receive the anti-viral agent in time, the baby will also be a carrier. And worse, the virus could mutate within the infant, potentially altering its properties so it could be lethal to others besides Mr. Cale."
"Do it," Max said tightly. She felt the prick of the needle, and a warm sensation traveling up her arm.
"You may feel a little dizzy."
She was feeling dizzy. A lot dizzy. And then everything just went away.
*****
A dark skinned man entered the room. He, too, was wearing a robe. "How are you feeling?" he said in heavily accented English.
"I've been better." Max replied.
"You might as well stop struggling, 452. You'll just tire yourself needlessly."
"What do you want from me?" Max asked. "Do you work for White?"
"I know of no White," the man said. "I work for a government that has just paid a large sum of money for you. You can call me Musalla."
Max now realized what was going on. She's been warned once before by Lydecker about foreign nations willing to pay almost anything to get their hands on Manticore soldiers. "I think you've made a mistake," she said. "I'm nobody you want."
"Oh, but you are," Musalla said with a chuckle. He held up a computer disc. "Your DNA has already been tested. Then there's the small matter of your bar code. You are X5-452, one of Manticore's finest creations. My people have followed the U.S. news with great interest the past few weeks. For many years we could only watch from afar while your government developed its super soldier program. You were too well guarded, even while on missions, for us to obtain. But after Manticore was destroyed, we realized that if we were patient we would eventually be able to capture a prize. We could have had one of the earlier or later X series sooner than this, but my orders were to capture an X5, and there are precious few of your kind left. But then thankfully Mr. Logan Cale obliged us by revealing your existence. It was only a matter of time before you stepped into our trap."
Max's head was reeling again. Logan had betrayed her? But surely not on purpose. It had been an accident. Perhaps his computer system had been hacked into, or one of his many inquiries about the virus had caught the attention of these people.
"So," Max said. "The whole virus cure was a hoax?"
"No," Musalla said. "Mr. Carpeni provided a true cure for your little malady. You see, my government does not want damaged goods. The virus in your body might have mutated into something more dangerous if not eliminated, and certainly would have prevented us from using your DNA to create future soldiers."
He stepped closer to the table, his dark eyes roaming up and down her body. Max shivered, and once more tested her shackles.
"You are very beautiful," he said. "It's a shame we must destroy such perfection. But unfortunately, it will be necessary to find out exactly how your genetics work before we can recreate the process that gave birth to you. We will have to study all of your systems -- bones, muscles, nerves, brain." He smiled. "My one real regret is that we have only a female to work with. The X5 males are said to be magnificent creatures, incredible fighting machines, the ultimate warriors. However, there is always your fetus to study. Perhaps you're carrying a son. We'll know soon enough when the testing begins. I'm truly sorry but I imagine the scientists will want to maintain your body long enough for the baby to be removed alive, four or five months. During this time you won't be very comfortable. In fact, I won't lie. There will be a great deal of pain. Afterwards, perhaps they'll allow at least the conscious part of you to die."
Max said nothing. She wondered if Alec would ever know what had happened to her. Eventually, he'd come looking for her. She knew him too well to doubt that. But then he'd be in danger of capture as well.
"You truly are beautiful," Musalla whispered. He stepped closer, took hold of her tank top, and ripped it from her body.
It took almost a full second for Alec to recognize the sound, a crossbow string releasing, and the delay nearly cost him his life. Spinning on his feet, he dropped his gun and caught the arrow in both hands, the steel tip stopping a fraction of an inch from his stomach. Then he dove to the ground, rolling and retrieving his weapon. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Egyptian who'd led him to this farmhouse in the hills running for his life down the road back toward Bangkok. Shadows moved in the treeline to his right. He blurred as another arrow hit the dirt where he should have been.
There was a big problem. No cover. Not unless he headed directly toward his attackers. Behind him was an open field of shorn wheat and to either side the road. Not so much as a mailbox or a boulder to hide behind.
Doing the only thing he could, Alec put several shots into the trees and ran for the farmhouse a quarter of a mile away.
There were three guards in the yard. He didn't have time to be stealthy. His pursuers would be giving the alarm. He shot the first one in the chest, and would have done the same to the second but the gun clicked on empty.
"Damn!" Alec said, and broke the man's neck instead. He picked up the guard's weapon and aimed at the third, but when he pulled the trigger nothing happened. "Huh?" Glancing down, he realized why. "Oh Geez!" The gun had a personal I.D. safety, and his DNA didn't match. Useless. With another muttered oath, Alec tossed the weapon aside and charged head first, his speed saving him from the two shots squeezed off before he had the guy unconscious on the ground.
The front door splintered easily beneath his shoulder.
"Max!" Alec shouted in the empty hallway. "Max!"
"I'm here!"
Alec actually closed his eyes for a moment, his knees shaking with relief. He'd been so afraid he wouldn't find her. But she was here. He'd been right. And now, to the rescue.
She was in the second bedroom, alone, held by restraints on a table. Her torn clothing told an ugly tale.
"Hey, Max," he said lightly as he looked for the catch on her shackles. "Miss me?"
"Behind you!" Max screamed.
But it was too late. This time he hadn't heard it in time. The arrow caught Alec in the back, its tip burrowing deep between his ribs. He cried out and fell forward, first to his knees, then collapsing, clawing at the wooden floor boards, his back and side on fire.
"Alec!" Max screamed. "Alec!" Then, "Don't kill him! Don't kill him! He's like me! He's worth a fortune just like me!"
A gun was cocked, cold metal pressed against his temple, and Alec closed his eyes, doubting he'd ever even hear the shot that killed him.