"You'll go in here." He said and pointed to a skylight on the roof. "Then go down two floors and the Pollock will be on your left. It's nothing too big, but it's not the Mona Lisa painted on the head of a pin either."
He pulled a long tube from the bag and handed to her. "Put it in there, then just come out the way you came. It shouldn't be too difficult. I've mapped out the guards and they'll be patrolling the first three floors, which gives you exactly 22.3 minutes to finish. All you'll have to worry about is tripping any alarms. I borrowed Logan's laptop and disabled the cameras until tomorrow morning, so you don't have to worry about that."
He folded up the blue prints and shoved them back in the bag. He slung it over his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You shouldn't need me for anything, but if you do, just show up in one of those windows. I'll see you."
Max nodded, quite astounded by his thoroughness. She rested her glasses on the seat of her motorcycle, then took off across the street. She made her way to the fire escape and jumped up onto the first landing. She peered into the window, looking for a guard. The light of a flashlight appeared at the end of the hall, so she quickly began climbing up the fire escape until she reached the roof.
She slid onto the roof gracefully then crept over to the skylight. She peered down, and only saw darkness so she felt it was fine. She swung the bag she had off her shoulders and opened it. She pulled out the rope and quickly wrapped it around a nearby pole. She managed to open the skylight without much trouble, then dropped the other end of the rope down. She tugged on it to make sure it would hold, then slid down.
She landed on the tile floor below without a sound. She looked around for any stray guards that might be on the floor, but saw none and continued on. She easily found her way to the door that led to the stairs that would take her to the seventh floor. She hurried along, passing the door to the eighth, and made it to the door marked with a large number seven. She peered through the tiny window in the door, again checking for guards.
Satisfied that there were none, she pulled her lock pick from her pocket and went to work. In no time, the door had clicked and she slipped through, pushing it only halfway closed after her. She looked up and down the hall, then moved to her left. She scanned the paintings on the wall until she reached the Pollock. She stared up at it, a puzzled expression on her face. She titled her head to one side, then the other. She squinted both eyes, then alternated.
Finally, after standing on her head and turning around, she pulled herself up and shook her head. As she gently pulled the painting down from the wall and set it on the floor, she realized there was just some art one could never hope to understand.
She freed the painting from its frame, then carefully rolled it up and placed it inside the tube Aaron had given her. She made sure to place the frame back on the wall, something inside of her hoping the guard wouldn't notice the missing painting and that would give her more time.
Once the top was safely secured on the tube, she moved swiftly back to the door and slipped through once more. This time, however, she completely closed the door behind her. She rushed back up the stairs, not sure how she was doing on time. When she reached the skylight, she tossed the tube up through it, then grabbed the rope and pulled herself up.
Once back on the roof, she brought the rope up behind her and quietly closed the skylight. She shoved the rope into the bag, then nestled the tube in after. She put the bag back over her shoulder, then made the climb down the fire escape. She jumped off gracefully and had looked to the street. Seeing no one, she ran across and hopped onto her bike.
Aaron grinned and got on after her. Once he was safely on, the bike roared to life and zoomed off down the street.
* * *
"All I'm saying is, I saw her and that Aaron guy coming in real late last night."
"But she's with that Logan guy."
"The virus."
"From what I heard, they've been battling that virus for a while now, and people are bound to go a little crazy without a little touchy touchy, feel-y feel-y."
Joshua walked past the gaggle of gossiping X5s and X6s, not knowing what to think. He wandered into the room that had become his makeshift studio and sat before a blank canvas. He wondered if the plan was no longer Max and Logan gettin' busy. Was the new plan Max and Aaron gettin' busy?
He wasn't so sure he liked the new plan. Aaron had seemed too smart to be trusted. It had been his experience that people that were too smart for their own good had - as Original Cindy had said to him once - 'played' people who weren't as smart. He felt that Aaron might've been doing that. He wasn't quite sure what he was playing for, but he didn't like him.
No, he decided finally, he did not like the new plan. Not at all.
* * *
"Call for you." Dix announced as Max walked by.
"Who?" She asked.
"Original Cindy." He answered.
Max rushed to the computer with the video phone, eager to talk to OC. She hadn't spoken to her since she and Sketchy had left to become Terminal City's buddies on the outside. OC was in charge of sending as many supplies as she could in and Sketchy was busy writing pro-transgenic articles for his rag.
"Well, look at miss thang." OC chuckled when Max came into view. "Haven't changed much in this short span of time, have ya?"
"Few more bags under the eyes." Max shrugged. "But other than that I'm all peachy keen."
OC laughed. "If you're usin' dumbass sayin's like 'peachy keen' it's not exactly the same, now is it?"
Max smiled at her friend. "So, how's life on the outside?"
"Aiight." OC shrugged. "I'm tryin' to balance life as a secret Terminal City operative and life as an underpaid bike messenger sufferin' through Normal's bips."
"Is it sad that I miss the bip-age?" Max asked.
"It's more than sad." OC said. "That's straight up scary. But if it's worth anything, Normal told me that next time I talked to 'missy miss' I oughta tell you that he was holdin' your job for when you manage to get your 'slacker butt back here.'"
"No kidding." Max grinned. "I never thought I'd see the day when Normal went soft."
"Don't be fooled by the man's warm words. He's still actin' like he's got a stick up his ass." OC said, then became serious. "But, Boo, we're all kinda hopin' you get the chance to come back."
"No one more'n me." Max replied sadly.
There was a silence, then OC looked at her watch. "Damn. I gotta bounce or I'm sure Normal will be threatenin' to fire my ass."
"Aiight. See you."
OC nodded then her hand reached up out of frame, obviously to turn the camera off, then the screen went black. It quickly returned to the screen Dix had been working on before OC had called. Max frowned, then stood and slowly continued on her way.
* * *
Eight sighed and watched the police and protesters from his car. He had only been on the scene for a few days but had enough to already be bothered by what was going on. He hadn't seen any transgenics doing anything illegal or vicious in the time he had been there, and saw no real need for his presence. He even heard a few of the police discussing how needless it was for them to be there since all the transgenics seemed to be doing was staying inside the fences and keeping away from them.
But he knew that he was there for a reason. He knew the transgenics nature was violent. He'd seen enough of them on the battlefield and in training to know that they would solve most any problem with violence, but he couldn't see how his presence would stop them from turning the situation into a bloodbath. He really hadn't done anything to aid the police, since they never came to him for anything.
He was also worried about the lack of contact he was receiving from Fourteen. He hadn't heard from the man since he had left the room after "downsizing" The Committee. When Thirteen had been running things, he had always had constant contact with The Committee and was always aware of the situation.
He began wondering if the lack of contact was a sign of something gone sideways.
* * *
As Max made her usual rounds that day, she couldn't help but notice the looks certain transgenics were giving her. She wasn't able to place them, but she did know that they were usually following whispers. It wasn't until she approached Russ that she became concerned.
"Ask Aaron about the supplies?" He asked and coughed uncomfortably.
"No." She said slowly. "I found a way myself. I'm just gonna get Original Cindy some extra money and have her pick some things up to hold us over for now."
"Oh, so Aaron won't have to be involved then?"
"No." She said. "It may be contrary to popular belief, but he doesn't have to be used for everything around here."
A passing X6 snickered. "But he is useful for some things, isn't he?"
Max glowered as the girl walked by, but didn't say anything. She turned back to Russ, the look not fading. "What was that about?"
"I dunno." He shrugged.
She knew he was lying but didn't have the time to beat it out of him. She grabbed an apple and left the cafeteria in a huff. Instead of finishing up her rounds, she made her way to her office and slammed her clipboard down on her desk. She walked to the window and stared out at the police below.
She snarled and walked halfway across the room, then stopped. She stared at the apple clutched tightly in her hand, then looked at the window. She screamed and threw the apple through the window. The sound of the glass shattering made her calm for 3.6 seconds, but the frustration returned soon after.
She sighed, the rage slipping from her, and sat behind her desk. She looked around the room, then rested her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her hands. She was quiet a minute more, then the sound of gentle sobs filled the empty room.
* * *
The policeman below dove onto the ground to avoid the object sailing at his head. After it had smashed into the wall behind him, he pulled himself to his feet and went to pick up part of the object. He smiled to himself, then went over to the car where Mr. Number Eight was positioned. He tapped lightly on the window and waited for the man to unroll it. After the window was down, he dropped the piece into the man's lap.
"The transgenics have just tried to assault us with fruit, sir."