AS202 Breakdown Chapter Six, a dark angel fanfic

Breakdown by Star24

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Safe House

Logan returned to the bedroom, only to find that Max had left the bed, and seemed to be in the grip of another hallucination. The table lay in pieces on the floor and she stood there, holding a broken table leg as if it was a weapon.

When Max spotted him, she began to use some of the hand signals that he knew were Manticore battle language. Playing along with her belief that he was one of her comrades, he followed her directions. When she had him placed where she wanted him, Max sprung into a flurry of action against her unseen opponents. Watching her Logan had a sense of déjà vu. The scene reminded him of her earlier actions when she had believed she was fighting Brin.

When she finished, she turned to Logan triumphantly. "Nice work soldier. Good thing you came along when you did. Pack up your gear so we can return to base and report on this incident."

"You're bleeding," Logan lied to her. "Better let me look at that and clean it up before we head back."

Max looked to where he was pointing on her leg. She frowned and Logan was afraid his ruse wasn't going to work. After a moment of confusion, she allowed him to lead her back to the bed. When he had her lying down he ordered her to stay there, and he hurried back to the bathroom for water. He returned to find her shaking and incoherent once more.

Logan slid onto the bed next to her. He leaned back against the wall and pulled her into a semi-sitting position, letting her lean back against his chest. "Max, try to take some of this water." He held the cup to her lips and managed to get some down her.

"No more." After a few sips she turned her head away from the cup. "I'm cold. Please, don't let me be so cold…" Logan reached down and felt her forehead. Her earlier fever was gone; instead her skin was damp and clammy.

There were no blankets to be seen, so Logan stretched out next to her and pulled her close against him wrapping his arms around her. Max curled into the warmth of his body and her shivering seemed to ease. She was soaked in sweat and her hair was hanging in strings around her face. Her eyes were closed, but she continued to mutter and moan periodically as she lay there next to Logan.

"No…don't…I won't…I'm Max. My name is Max…Original Cindy is…she doesn't know anything…I don't know who Eyes Only is…Ben…Ben, I'm sorry…the blue lady, …Logan…don't hurt Logan…no…not Logan….no please…I won't…Max…my name is Max…"

She continued on, mumbling fragments and occasionally growing agitated. Each time she did, Logan soothed her with soft words and touches until she calmed. Finally, she seemed to have slid into a restless sleep. Exhausted by the events of the day, Logan slept as well. Night fell and the room grew dark as the two of them lay sleeping on the broken bed, curled close together.

Sector 12

Syl walked cautiously through the streets that bordered the waterfront district. Bling had been right about the area, it was a rough one. Drug dealers and hookers with their pimps hung out on every street corner, and Syl found herself the object of solicitation more than once.

She checked the street signs and turned down a street that was even narrower and dingier than the ones she had so far traversed. The buildings on this street all appeared to be deserted, but candles flickered in some windows, clear signs of squatters. As she walked, the sound of footsteps keeping pace behind her became apparent.

Halfway down the block the footsteps behind her sped up. Syl whirled and stopped in fighting position. Two rough looking males in their early twenties stood facing her.

"Aw look, she thinks she wants to fight us," one of them laughed. "Isn't she cute?"

"C'mon baby. We just want ta have some fun with ya. We won't hurt ya." The other taunted Syl.

Syl refused to respond and waited for their attack. The two exchanged glances and split up, one going to each side of her, obviously planning on dividing her attention. As they charged, Syl turned into a blur of motion, whirling and delivering hard kicks to each in turn, sending them sprawling. The first leapt up and charged her once again, head down. Syl easily stepped aside and behind him. She used his own momentum against him and with a hard shove from her he went headfirst into a building wall. He went down and stayed down.

The other thug had scrambled up and was now advancing on her holding a knife in one hand. Syl stood there calmly as she waited for him to draw closer.

"That's it baby. Don' worry about tha fool. You an me gonna have a good time. I won't hurt you, you gonna like it 'cause I the man. Come to poppa," he crooned, mistaking her stillness for fear of his knife. When he reached her, Syl suddenly jumped into the air, executing a perfect somersault as she soared over his head. She came down behind him and before he could turn to face her, she had him from the rear. His knife arm was immobilized and when he started to struggle she simply turned it facing him.

"You wanna stab yourself, be my guest."

He continued to struggle for a moment, but Syl was tired of the game and released his arms, transferring her hold to his neck before he could react. She cut off his air supply and within seconds he went limp against her. Dropping his limp body next to that of his friend, she pocketed his knife and then wiped her sweaty hands on her pants.

"Sweet dreams, fellas," she chuckled as she went on her way.

Manticore – Psyops

The sign on the frosted glass of the door read Director, Psyops. Inside the office the gray haired man who had spoken to Renfro earlier, snapped open a cell phone. He punched in a number and waited.

"Hello?" the voice at the other end made it more of a question than a greeting.

"Donald. John here. It's good to speak to you again."

"Is this a secure line?"

"Don't you know me better than to ask that? I'm disappointed. Of course it is."

"To what do I owe this honor?"

"Your successor has made a complete mess of things. We desperately need someone competent here to clean it up."

"And that has what to do with me? She made very sure I was persona non grata."

"That may be changing. It seems that somehow, through her carelessness, the Manticore database has been compromised. Fancy that. That investigative journalist fellow, Eyes Only has been snooping around in it."

"That's not enough to bring her down. She'll find someone to lay the blame on."

"Ah, but couple it with her failure to eliminate Eyes Only, and her loss of a valuable X5 on the botched assassination mission, not to mention the blown up genetics lab a few months ago…"

"Very nice, John but I still don't quite get what's in all that for me?"

"Let's just say that a Manticore Tac team is about to walk into a trap set by the renegade X5s in Seattle in, oh let's say, approximately 12 hours. And the man who gets them out of that trap, could be expected to be welcomed home as the misunderstood but conquering hero."

"Let me ask the $64 million question then…what's in it for you?"

"An ally when I need one, plus the disposal of an extremely annoying and dangerous loose cannon. Elizabeth is going to bring us all down if she's allowed to go unchecked. It's time to put an end to her."

"Which X5 is about to go missing in aid of your little scenario?"

"One already has. The one Elizabeth recovered three months ago, X5-452. Not a real loss to the program. My technicians have advised me that reprogramming of that one will never be a success. Short of mentally simplifying the unit to the point of being useless as anything but dumb muscle, or possibly as a breeder, they haven't found a way. Of course we haven't let Elizabeth or anyone else know that. In fact, all of the official records now indicate that the reprogramming would have been a resounding success if not for Elizabeth's carelessness."

"X5-452. That doesn't surprise me."

John almost thought he heard a faint chuckle in the voice on the other end of the phone.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Sit tight. I'll get you the information on the ambush and then I'll leave it to you. You also might want to contact X5-452's allies to give them some hints on the de-programming. We don't want 452 to show up back here and spoil things by some wild chance."

"What makes you think I can contact her allies as you call them?"

"We've known each other for twenty odd years, Donald. Need I say more?"

"No."

And Donald…"

"Yes?"

"Welcome home. We've missed you. Your old office will be ready for you."

End of Chapter Six