She slid the painting in the tube and had a look around. A porcelain vase with a floral pattern caught her eye and she moved over to it. She examined it, then gently picked it up and went to the window, where Aaron was now waiting. She handed him the tube and the vase, ignoring his confused expression, then slipped through the window and closed it behind her.
"Thought you'd get some quick cash from this?" Aaron asked when they reached the Ninja.
"Yes, yes I did." Max told him and safely secured the vase. "Is it a crime to want a little pocket change?"
"I think in this case it actually is, yes."
* * *
Orion heard the door open, but didn't turn from his spot at the window to see who it was.
"How are you today?"
"Good enough to finally be out of this room." Orion said and turned around. He looked at the X5 medic before him and smiled.
She grinned back and held out a cane. "I think that can be arranged."
"You don't expect me to use this." He said and accepted the cane.
"Yes, I do." She replied, then put on a mocking tone. "I'm asking big, strong Orion to appear weak and vulnerable."
"I could probably use this to hit people over the head, which you have just inspired me to do."
"Just get outta here." She said and ducked out of his way. "I'm sure TJ and Spring will be delighted to see you up and about."
He smiled at her once more then left the room. He wasn't happy about the cane, but decided to use it for just a little while, mostly to keep the medics happy for just a bit. He followed the now familiar path to corridor where the three had taken up residence, humming to himself.
Deciding to visit TJ first, he smiled to himself and knocked on the door with the cane. When there was no answer, he opened the door. "You know -"
He stopped mid-sentence and just stared ahead. TJ and Spring were in the middle of the room... kissing. He shook his head, telling himself that he was just delirious. They quickly separated and stared at him, but neither could think of anything to say. And that made three of them.
* * *
"How are ya, lil fella?"
Max looked up from her papers and smiled at Joshua. "I'm okay."
He smiled and sat in the chair in front of her desk. He peered at some of the papers she had been working on, then looked up at her with a questioning look. "Whatcha workin' on?"
"Just going through supply lists." She told him. "I want to get this done."
He nodded and pulled a package of snack cakes from his pocket. He set it down on her desk and grinned. "Thought lil fella would want Little Debbies."
She smiled in appreciation. "Thanks."
He nodded and stood. "Joshua gotta blaze. Don't work too hard. Take a snack break."
Her smile widened. "I'll do that."
He smiled back then left the room.
She stared at the unopened snack cakes and shook her head. After her last experience with a work overload, she wasn't about to go and overwork herself. She looked down at the supply list, then back at the snack cakes. With a shrug, she reached for the package and tore it open.
* * *
Aaron knocked three times and waited. He could hear someone fumbling with approximately several locks before the door finally opened. He nodded at the short man who had opened the door, then followed him inside. This was only his second visit to this particular dealer, but he was already familiar with the set up. He followed the man into a small office that had nothing in it but a banged up desk, two moth eaten chairs, and a dented file cabinet he suspected was empty.
"What've you go for me?" The man asked and took a seat behind the desk.
Aaron carefully took the vase that was in the bag that hung from his shoulder and placed it on the desk. "That."
The man put on a pair of glasses that made his eyes three sizes larger and examined the object. He turned it every way imaginable and even peered inside before putting it back down and taking off the glasses. "I'll give you 2Gs for it."
"That would be fine." Aaron told him. He accepted the wad of money the man gave him, then left the office, his next stop on his mind.
* * *
"I... wha... huh... you... and... I... what?"
"It's not what it looks like?"
"Oh, so you were just making sure her tongue was working properly?"
"She started it!"
Spring slapped TJ hard on the arm. "Real nice."
TJ shrugged and rubbed his arm where she hit him.
"What is going on?" Orion asked, leaning on his cane to keep from falling over in shock. "Did I die? Am I dead right now?"
"No." Spring told him. "We just... kind of... got closer when you weren't around."
"We had to stick together." TJ continued.
"So far you appear to have done a very good job of that."
"All the time together just, kinda, made us see stuff in each other that we might have never seen." Spring told him. "It was weird at first, but now..."
"I've only been gone a week!"
"And a few days." TJ said. "But that was still plenty of time."
"I... I need time to process this." Orion mumbled and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
"Could've been worse." TJ mumbled.
"How?"
"He could've died from the shock."
* * *
Aaron chained Max's bike to the nearest post, as she had instructed him to do. He was under very strict instructions and rules dealing with her "baby." She had only agreed to let him use the bike because she wanted the money as fast as possible and could see no other option. He checked a third time to see that everything was secure, then walked to the front gate.
He pressed a tiny button on the intercom and spoke into it. "Mr. Rockwell is here to see Mr. Woodridge."
For a moment everything was quiet, then the gates suddenly pulled open and a voice spoke from the intercom. "Mr. Woodridge will see you. Proceed to the front door."
Aaron's grip on the tube that held the painting tightened as he walked through the gates. He waited a beat until they closed behind him, then walked the way to the front door. He rang the bell and the door flew open, revealing a burly man in a suit with an earpiece.
"Follow me." The man grunted and turned.
Aaron followed him up a long marble staircase and down a long hall. They reached the end of the hall and without hesitation, the man threw open the last door and walked in. He moved to the window and glanced out, then moved to stand next to the large oak desk in the room where an aged man with thinning gray hair and a thick goatee sat, smiling lopsidedly.
"Mr. Rockwell." The man, Mr. Woodridge, greeted. "Welcome."
"Hello."
Mr. Woodridge looked at Aaron expectantly, then opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a black bag. He placed it on the desk near Aaron. "That, I believe, is yours."
Aaron set the tube on the desk and picked up the black bag. He opened it and looked inside, pleased to see the right amount inside. He closed it and gave Mr. Woodridge a nod.
Mr. Woodridge unscrewed the lid to the tube, then pulled out the painting. He unrolled it and smile. "I think everything is in order here. Joseph, would you please escort Mr. Rockwell out?"
The burly man nodded then made his way over to Aaron. He grabbed him by the elbow and began pushing him out of the room. He shoved him out into the hall then closed the door behind him and pushed Aaron further down the hall. He pushed Aaron toward the stairs, and Aaron knew it wasn't going to end well. Before Aaron could turn and shove the man away from him, the man's bulky arms were already rushing at his chest. They connected and Aaron flew backward down the stairs. The man watched with a satisfied smile as Aaron tumbled down and finally spilled into the foyer.
Aaron groaned and slowly pulled himself to his feet. As two security men approached him from opposite sides, he realized he was not supposed to have survived the fall down the stairs, and it was definitely not in Woodridge's plan to have him leave with the money.
"In any other situation, statistically I might leave the money and go, but this money is too important to someone, so I will be a statistical anomaly today."
"What did he just say?" The man on his left asked the other.
"Who cares? Just get him!" The other answered and pulled out his gun.
Aaron went toward the men quickly and knocked the gun from his hand. Before the man could recover, Aaron put a hand on the man's neck and applied pressure in a certain spot. The man fell onto the floor, unconscious, then Aaron turned to the other and kicked him in the stomach, then did the same to him. He glanced at the two unconscious men, then heard the third rushing down the staircase and ran out the front door.
He heard more security rushing out of the door after him, but didn't turn to look, he just kept running for the front gates. When he reached them, he jumped effortlessly over them and ran to the bike. He quickly threw off the chains and got on. Without another thought, he drove off as fast as the bike would take him.
* * *
Eight sighed as he looked out at all the officers milling about. They had stopped bothering with the protesters, as all they did was sit nearby and occasionally yell pro-transgenic or anti-transgenic sayings once in a while. To replace the time that was previously spent keeping the protesters under control, they gambled. He was more than shocked to walk by a game of dice the first morning it started, he decided not to say anything because he felt he didn't need them to dislike him more than they already did.
A grinning officer jogged up to him. "No more fruit attacks, sir."
Eight sighed deeply. "Yes, I suspected we'd have no more of those. Just - just... go gamble or whatever."
The officer nodded and saluted him in a mocking way then went off to join a game of poker that was being played on the hood of a police car.
Frustrated, he pulled out his cellphone. 0 missed calls. He sighed and shoved the phone back in his pocket, wondering why there had been no contact. He didn't know how he was going to handle any more time there, being useless. He looked over at the poker game and half-considered trying to join in.
Before he could answer, a motorcycle flew by and went through the open gates of Terminal City. After it was clear, the transgenic guards closed the gates and went back to their posts. He shook his head, knowing that he should've taken the open gates as a sign. There was no doubt that they had heard the motorcycle from blocks away. He forgot the poker game and imagined the praise he would receive for bringing in a transgenic that knew how Terminal City was functioning on the inside.
* * *
Max tossed the snack cake wrapper into the garbage can and sighed. She leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands together, then rested them on top of her head. She was never really sure where she got the habit, but she discovered that she usually did it when she was beginning to get stressed.
Her eyes moved to the filing cabinet across the room where she had hidden the thirty-thousand dollars. She couldn't believe she was so close.