Summary: The shit has hit the fan and now the transgenic can only train and wait for the oncoming attack they know is coming. Life goes on for the younger transgenics, however; love abounds between some while other relationships are torn to shreds. Meanwhile, Ames White returns to the transgenic scene and finds that he has a whole new deck of cards to play when he meets Colonel Briggs.
The Siege
by
Brin
"Hope is for losers. It's a con job people trip behind till they finally get a grip on the cold, hard truth." –Max
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hard times can do stuff to a person. I don't know what went on with Eddie and Pick, but whatever it was… it was bad. They were the teenagers' premier couple around here—the coolest kids in school, I guess you could say. So what happened? It's like the breakup of America's sweethearts. I guess I'll find out sooner or later… and hopefully things won't end up with Eddie on one side of the fence and Pick on the other. You need someone to lean on when things get bumpy.
Chapter 7: Blah Blah Meow MeowThe next morning, things had cooled off considerably as the transgenics settled half into a mourning period, and half into a mood of quiet, boiling anger; a need for retribution. They didn't shout and scream and stomp their feet and beat their hands like Ordinaries did in times of rage—no. They were transgenics… genetically empowered, and they took what came to them. Silently, impassively, they accepted that you couldn't change what enemies had done in the past… only kill them in the future. Now their fury would fester and grow until their chance came, and they would be more than ready for that opportunity. All they had to do was wait—and they were, without a doubt, much better at waiting than Ordinaries.
At Max's apartment, personal lives weren't much better. Eddie had only slept for a couple of hours, and now she sat rigid in Max's bed, angst-ridden and silent. She had accepted a glass of water and a cracker, but otherwise hadn't moved since waking. Max was worried for the girl's sanity. So much trauma in one day could do a number on someone's head, even if that someone was a transgenic. She avoided leaving the girl alone.
From his position in the doorway, Alec contemplated the situation. He had been watching Eddie carefully, studying her. Her soft brown eyes were perfectly still, filled with a world weariness that no seventeen-year-old should feel. The bags under her eyes contested to her lack of sleep and served to make her appear sickly. Silent tears ran down her face. Her hands were limp on the bed. It broke his heart to see her like this, and he barely knew the girl. With a sigh, he pushed off from the doorframe and rested his hands on Max's shoulders. "I'm going to go talk to Pick and try to find out what happened. Now's not the time for us to be giving up on each other," he declared, giving Eddie a slight nod.
The girl's eyes flickered to his face in acknowledgement, but she did nothing else.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After talking to almost every transgenic in the city, Alec pinned Pick's location to a room in the hotel where he had fought 205. This time, there was no guard at the door. He ascended the steps to the floor Pick was supposedly staying at—the 'main' floor—and was surprised to find only a few X's milling about the halls. They gave him sheepish glances before darting out of sight. Most of the doors were open, and as Alec passed them, he caught glimpses of X series kids playing cards and reading books and talking quietly. A melancholy feeling was in the air, but there was no crying, no sobbing or screaming. The kids were all leaning on each other for comfort; a safety net of support made by their peers. This was what Eddie and Pick needed.
He found Pick's apartment at the end of the hall. The door was locked, so he knocked twice, waited half a second, then shrugged and kicked the damn thing open. It hit the wall with such force that the plaster cracked. The X5 coolly stepped inside the room and glanced around. The windows were boarded up and the floor had no carpet, just sticky cement that not even a transgenic would step on barefoot.
Pick was lying on a cot in the middle of the room, staring up at the ceiling expressionlessly. Stubble was poking out all over his face and his once-white t-shirt was stained with… well, Alec guessed it was alcohol because the room positively reeked of it.
"You. Explain. Now," Alec instructed, pulling up a two-legged chair and sitting down. It teetered dangerously for a second, then settled.
"What the hell do you want?" moaned Pick with disinterest. He threw an arm over his eyes.
"What the hell happened last night? Hm? What the fuck made you two so mad that you are willing to do this to each other?" demanded Alec, his lips pursed into a grim line. "Everyone in the city knows how much you two love each other. You two are classic lovebirds." His voice lost some of its angry edge as he whispered, "True love is a hard thing to find."
"True love?" The X6 slowly sat upright. "True love? That's what you call it now? I thought cruel and unusual punishment was against the law."
Alec narrowed his eyes at the nine-teen-year-old. He clenched and unclenched his jaw as carefully censored everything he wanted to come out of his mouth. "Pick, don't be this way, man. Don't give up. There's enough of that in this fucked up world."
"Eddie and I are over and that's it. It's finished. Finito," growled Pick as he lay back down. "Not that I care."
"Yes, you do. I can see it in your eyes," snapped Alec, leaping to his feet. "You think this is gonna come easy, huh? You think just because you're a transgenic, things should come easy to you? Is that it?"
"Fuck you!"
Alec grabbed Pick's arm and lifted the adolescent to his feet in one swift movement, which surprised the X6 out of fighting back. He stared into Pick's defiant eyes and began, quietly at first, but with increasing intensity, "If you give up on your true love, Pick, your life will fall apart. You guys had a fight, so what? Those things happen. Give up now, and what do you have to live for? Nothing. Not one fucking thing… and, if you do throw the towel in, you're less of a man than I thought you were." He forcefully shoved the teen backwards. "You'll just be a punk who couldn't cut it."
Pick held Alec's stare for a second or two, then turned his gaze to the floor. He absently rubbed his shoulder where Alec had pushed him as he replied in a small, almost childlike voice, "I told her that it was the 'nomlies fault Ordinaries want to kill us."
"You what?" blurted the X5.
"I blamed it on her, okay?! I blamed it on her, I blamed it on Axle, I blamed it on every 'nomlie in the city! That's what I did! You happy now?" shouted Pick. "How am I supposed to fix that, Alec? What's your super secret wise man knowledge say now?"
Alec's resolve was wavering now. This was as bad as he thought it would be, and that wasn't comforting. He licked his lips nervously, trying not to convey his sudden uncertainty. "Pick…"
The teen was pacing back and forth now. "She told me I was a fucking asshole and left. I didn't know what to do. I don't know what to do…" Tears were stinging his eyes now. He rubbed at them, but they kept coming so he finally just collapsed against the wall, sliding down it into a sitting position. "I just wanna tell her that I'm sorry," choked out the X6.
Genuinely moved by this blatant show of emotion, Alec approached the X6 and held out his hand. "Well there you go. Let's stop by and see how our women are doing, how about it, kid?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alec and Pick walked silently towards the place where their girlfriends were hiding out. The new, brotherly bond between them seemed to calm Pick's nerves a bit, though the tension in the X6's demeanor was unmistakable.
"If you're worried, then maybe I should go in first," suggested Alec, hopping over a fallen beam. He jammed his hands in his jacket pockets and tossed a glance in the direction of the X6. The kid looks like shit, he thought idly.
"Wouldn't help much," replied Pick with a depressed sigh, rubbing the stubble on his chin.
The X5 was about to reply, but was suddenly interrupted by a loud sound. He turned his eyes to the sky and was stunned to see helicopters coming their way—a whole fleet of them. "What the hell?" he said aloud, skidding to a halt. Was it an attack? "Shit!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ames White watched the helicopters flying over his head towards Terminal City and sighed, shaking his head. "S1W assholes," he mumbled, pulling out his cell phone and dialing a number.
"Speak," commanded the icy voice of the Familiar elder priestess.
"This place is worse than back at the hostage situation," White yelled over the chanting of the crowd. "We've got anti-transgenic and a few pro-transgenic mobs running around burning things."
"The Conclave has requested that you stay down there, or at least have someone posted there at all times. Our opportunity could come at any time, and we would be most disappointed if we missed it. This is your once chance to redeem yourself, Ames. Fail and your life is up for negotiation."
White frowned as the line ended. "Great. Otto!" he called. The Hispanic man trotted over, and he ordered in a low voice, "I want a constant watch on the area. Wouldn't do for something to go down without our knowledge."
Otto nodded. "I'll get right on it, Sir."
As Otto walked away, White noticed the military-issue Hummer sitting inside the barricades. Standing next to the Hummer were thirteen young adults, dressed for full combat and holding automatics. A man in his midthirties wearing a custom-tailored suit was talking to them. Ames closed his cell and walked past the barricades, flashing his badge to the Guardsman who tried to stop him. As he neared the group, one of them broke off and blocked his way.
"Excuse me, Sir, do you have clearance?" asked the young woman, who looked to be about 18.
Ames looked her in the eye and held up his badge. "Special Agent In-Charge White. I would like to speak to your superior," he announced in a openly bored tone.
The soldier turned and walked back to the older man and whispered in his ear. After a few moments, the superior said something back and walked up to White. "Special Agent In-Charge White," greeted the dark-skinned man, looking White up and down over his sunglasses. "Colonel Briggs. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Who do you work for?" asked White, ignoring Briggs' salutation.
"That is highly classified information, Sir, and I don't think you have that kind of clearance," Briggs replied coolly. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.
"Look, I know those kids are Manticore. Why else would they be here?"
The smirk disappeared from the colonel's face. He glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, then suggested through clenched teeth, "Let's talk."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four hundred armed transgenics hid behind debris and inside windows as ten black helicopters touched down in a clear street. Max, who had made sure to get a Kevlar vest from the supply room, was the only one to show herself. She waited until the helicopter turned off before approaching it.
There were people—not soldiers, but normal people dressed in normal clothes—sitting inside one of the choppers, and they jumped out as soon as it touched down. Only one of them had a familiar face, and of all people it had to be—
"Asha," breathed Max, shaking her head in disbelief as she walked up to the blonde woman. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
Asha grinned and held out her pale hand. "Good to see you alive, too, Max."
Max shook Asha's hand with a sigh, though the gesture was obligatory. She cast a nervous glance over the blonde woman's shoulder at the other armed S1W members. "What are you doing here?" she repeated.
"S1W then saw what you were doing here and decided to help out. We've got enough food to feed an army of a thousand for two weeks, clothing and blankets, and enough bullets and ammo to arm every transgenic in this God-forsaken place," explained the blonde woman coolly.
"You're kidding, right?" asked Max, looking at the helicopters. "You fit all that in those?"
"Took out a few things and had no co-pilot in a few of the birds… but we managed," Asha replied with a slight shrug, as if this was no big thing. "Happy to see me now?"
Max, shocked beyond words, stepped forward and hugged Asha.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside the hummer, Briggs took a seat behind a table that served as his desk while Ames sat in the ugly plastic chair in front of it. Briggs was obviously on the verge of losing it. Sweat beads were forming on his brow. "Who are you? How do you know about Manticiore?" he demanded.
White sat back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head. Briggs obviously thought that he had been had—and Ames was content to let the man think that for as long as possible. White yawned before replying, "That depends. Can you keep a secret?"
"It's my job," snapped Briggs a little more shrilly than he intended. He cleared his throat to cover it up.
Ames smirked at the man, his face the cool, dispassionate mask that he wore almost all the time. In a level voice, he began, "What would you say if I told you I had my own army of genetically-enhanced super soldiers? Ones with powers Manticore only dreamed of? More than Manticore could ever attempt to create?"
Briggs grew still. "You're crazy."
"I can give you ten extra super-soldiers to work with," said White, raising his eyebrows. "All I need you to do is go in there with your kids and kill every single transgenic you find… including one in particular." He placed a picture of Sam on the table.
Briggs looked at the picture closely. "X5-452. Blew up the Seattle facility. Leader of the transgenics. There's a big bounty on that pretty little head."
"Kill her, and you'll find fifty million dollars in your bank account the next morning. That's what? Fifty times as much as the bounty," prodded Ames. He could practically see the dollar signs flashing in Briggs's eyes.
Colonel Briggs stared at White for a long while, weighing everything up in his mind. It all came down to one word: yes. He stood and shook hands with the man across the table. "You've got yourself a deal. Now get me your soldiers."
"I'll put in a request. It shouldn't take more than a few days, Colonel… and then you'll be living the life." Deliberately leaving that thought in Briggs's head, Ames turned on his heel and exited the vehicle. He passed a contemptuous glace in the direction of the Manticorian soldiers, then left the scene. It was a good day for a few rounds of golf.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With the help of most everyone in Terminal City, they were able to quickly unload the huge crates of food and ammunition. Most of the food was canned and boxed goods so that they were able to pack the food tightly and stuff more in. The S1W had gone way out of their league by also transporting nine X-series into the city along with the supplies. They even left behind a black hawk, two little birds, and three apaches—each equipped with missiles and machine guns.
"Thanks, Asha," said Max, giving the blonde woman another hug before she left. "This is what we needed."
"Stay strong, Max," replied Asha with a wide grin. She passed her eyes over the huge crowd of transgenics gathered to see them off, and allowed herself a pleased sight. "You people are special." And with that, she turned on her heel and entered a chopper.
Max jogged a safe distance away, coming to stand next to Jondy, and watched with a relaxed smile as they choppers flew away. "Now that was a surprise," she said, her eyes still toward the sky.
"Guess there are some good-hearted Ordinaries out there after all," replied Jondy, putting her hand on Max's shoulder. Then, as if an afterthought, she added, "Lydecker wants to see us. It's the first day of training."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lydecker tossed a set of fatigues to each of the Xs in-training—Max, Zack, Krit, Jondy, Zane, and Brin. "Put these on. The S1Ws were smart—supplied us with military issue clothes. It'll be easier for you to learn in these outfits," said the colonel. The X5s didn't move. "You waiting for someone to give the starting shot? Get to it!"
Reluctantly, the X5s began removing their civilian clothes in exchange for the gray t-shirts and camo pants. Max, who was standing in-between Zack and Jondy, couldn't help but notice the looks of embarrassment they gave each other. She glanced at Zack and, with a laugh, realized why. Zack's back was covered in fresh red scratch-marks.
Brin whistled teasingly, then laughed as Zack quickly pulled the t-shirt over his head. "I think someone's been a little busy lately," she announced nonchalantly.
Jondy and Zack turned bright red, but said nothing.
"That's enough," barked Lydecker, causing the X5s to impulsively snap to attention. "Now, I want you all to concentrate. We don't have all the time in the world. The Centurion attack could come at any moment. Realize this and use it to your advantage." He looked at Alec, who stepped forward. "Lesson one. Take this scenario: You're on the ground with a foot, an arm, and elbow—something pressed into your neck. The attacker is out of reach of your arms and there is no way to twist free without snapping your spine. Have you been beaten? Yes? No," Lydecker declared. "471 and 494, please demonstrate."
Alec lay on the floor and Krit placed his foot right on Alec's Adam's apple, holding him down.
"There's something 494 can do to remove 471 from his dominant position. 494… please demonstrate."
Shooting Krit an apologetic look, Alec folded himself up like an open book being shut, his feet able to touch his face, and kicked Krit in the knees, causing his legs to buckle and his entire body to come crashing down. The simple act looked strange and definitely painful. The other X5s winced.
"Now I want you all to try this. It's harder than it looks," said Lydecker dispassionately.
So they paired off and got down on the floor, attempting to do what Alec had just done with, seemingly, the utmost ease… but attempt was the key word. Lydecker watched with detached interest, shaking his head and muttering to himself as they strained themselves again and again, but to no avail.
Precious minutes ticked by, and Lydecker was getting more annoyed with the passing seconds. He waved his arms and interrupted, "Alright, that's enough. The definition of insanity, people, is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. You all are, by definition, insane. Now, watch again." He looked at Alec, who had resumed his position on the floor.
Alec folded himself up again, this time touching his toes to the top of his head. "The trick is the extra vertebrae at the bottom of your spine. If you know how to do it, you can actually unhinge this bone and the three above it without causing yourself pain. X5s have extra muscles in their backs that will do this for you. Concentrate on the muscles of your back and you should be able to find the correct combination of muscle contractions and relaxes," explained the X5 without unfolding from his position.
"Try again," ordered Lydecker sternly. "Slowly, carefully. Concentrate."
With sighs of frustration, the X5s went back to work. Thirty minutes, four sore backs, and several angry comments later, they had all gotten the 'back trick' down to an art. Lydecker was trying not to show his pride as he coached them, but the slight grin on his face gave all of it away—not very characteristic, especially coming from their favorite, generally stone-faced colonel. After they had all become bored with trying out their newfound 'powers', Lydecker continued the training without commenting on their success.
"Alright, second lesson. This one involves more mind power than super power. 494 can't demonstrate this, but it will require you to spar with each other." He began pacing back and forth in front of the line of X5s. "When you're fighting someone, hand-to-hand or with guns three hundred yards away, the only way you can tell what's coming is if you suddenly receive supernatural, mind-reading powers, right? Wrong.
"The X series are trained from age 12 in psychological warfare, a term not commonly used. When you fight someone, you must be aware of three things: One-their eyes; where are they looking. Two-the air around them; what direction is it shifting. And three-how they hold themselves; are they tilted in one direction or the other? All these things are essential. 494, tell them why these things are important."
Alec stepped forward and began, "The mind works in simple ways. Usually, when you're thinking about something or someone, you look at that something or someone. Using this, when your opponent's eyes focus left, they are probably planning on attacking your right side. This, however, cannot be applied when the opponent's eyes to do not focus. It has been proven that people look certain directions when making up lies and when telling the truth. So, therefore, if your opponent is simply glancing in another direction… they're not necessarily gonna move that way.
"As for 'number two', it's all about breathing. If you concentrate, you can feel the air moving as they breathe. That's one of the things about Xs that earns them the right to be called genetically empowered. When fighting, people will tilt their heads in the direction they like to move. X5s have powerful methods of sensing air patterns and disturbances in the atmosphere… you just have to concentrate. If you can sense the way their breathing patterns are affecting the air waves, you can predict their next move.
"And on the subject of how they hold themselves, that can tell you their fighting style. Do they go high or low? Watch the legs to see how they bend. Are they bold or cautious? Watch the amount of distance they put between themselves and you. There's a long list of things, but I'm fairly sure you guys have fought enough to know what I'm talking about."
The X5s nodded, a bit taken back by this claim to power and Alec's knowledge of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jondy blocked Max's fist and shoved her back, kicking her across the face. Max leapt over Jondy's next kick and landed on her hands, momentarily doing a handstand before flipping to her feet. She ducked a reckless punch and tackled Jondy around the waist, knocking them both to the floor. They slid a few feet then began to wrestle, rolling across the floor as they did. Max managed to pin Jondy down by sitting on her stomach and putting both knees on Jondy's elbows, which Jondy soon learned was quite painful.
"Give?" panted Max.
Jondy used the back trick and kicked Max off of her, then rolled to her feet. She allowed Max to stand and they began circling each other warily. Max put all the aspects of her new training together and stared into Jondy's eyes, watched the way she held herself, and concentrated on the air around her. Jondy's icy blue orbs were concentrated on her left shoulder blade. She held herself in a strong stance, as if ready to charge. Her head was tilted to the right. Jondy was doing the same thing, watching her opponent, calculating her movements, and they ended up circling each other for a small eternity before one of them finally made a move.
Jondy shouted a cry in an attempt to distract her psuedo sister as she ran forward so quickly that she was merely a blur heading towards Max.
Max, at the last moment, ducked and thrust her foot out, dodging Jondy's fist and tripping her sister. Jondy slid across the floor and into the wall, where she lay still.
"Jon? Jondy!" cried Max, running over to see if she was seriously hurt. She turned her sister over to find that Jondy was laughing so hard her face was turning red.
"That was… sooo… good, Max," panted the older X5, her feet kicking up and down as she laughed.
Max smiled and helped her sister to her feet. "Nice moves."
Jondy nodded and stumbled over to Zack, who had been watching the entire thing since he had long since kicked Krit's ass. "Zack, baby, did you see that? That was great!"
Zack grinned and hugged her. "Yeah, baby. You got your ass kicked," he joked wryly. He helped her sit down to try and slow her breathing, and she eventually stopped laughing and caught her breath once again.
"Are you done, soldier?" asked Lydecker, looking down at Jondy disapprovingly.
Jondy nodded and got to her feet, holding back a smile.
"Get back in your lines, soldiers," ordered the colonel, and the X5s quickly complied. "I have one more thing to teach you for today, then you can leave. You're obviously not up to get back into harsh training." He looked at Alec, who was nearly asleep leaning against a wooden crate. "494," he barked, "come here."
Reluctantly, Alec pushed himself off the crate and trotted over.
Lydecker turned to the other X5s. "You've been shot. The enemy thinks you're dead, but they want to be sure. You can't just sit there and wait for them to find out you're alive. What do you do? 494, show them."
Alec sighed and lay back down on the floor. He closed his eyes and, for the most part, didn't appear to be doing anything.
"Now, 210, check for his pulse. See if he's breathing."
Jondy knelt next to Alec and felt his neck. After a minute, she shook her head and moved her fingers a bit. A shocked look appeared on her face. "He… he's got no pulse!"
Lydecker grinned. "This is one of the most complicated X5 tricks in the book. Slow your heart down so that you can't even detect a pulse and stop breathing completely. You can wake up now, 494."
Alec opened his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Now, you try."
It took four hours for them to nail the pulse trick. Zack was the first to master it, then Krit, then Brin, then Zane, then Max, and finally Jondy. Lydecker let them get back to their lives as soon as he was sure they knew how to perform this ploy at a moment's notice, and they were glad to leave.
Alec and Max came up the stairs in their apartment building when they saw Pick standing outside their apartment door, gently tapping on it. They froze, turned around, and went back down the stairs. Pick and Eddie needed a little privacy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie was half asleep in the bedroom when she heard a knock on the door. Her eyes fluttering open, the girl propped herself up on her elbows and yawned. She then rose from the comfortable bed and headed to the front door. Cracking it open, the young woman peeked out for a split second before slamming it shut again. "Go away," she said to the closed door.
Pick sighed and leaned his head against the door. "Aw, come on, baby. Just hear me out." Silence. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
"That's a lame excuse, Pick. I'm not dumb and that isn't going to work."
"Just open the door."
There was a long, long silence, then the door slowly opened to reveal the wilting silhouette of his girlfriend. He felt his throat tighten with sorrow and self-repulsion at the expression on her face—a look of pure, undeniable hurt. Hurt that he had caused. A pang of guilt hit him in the chest like a knife, causing him to take a few deep breaths. Eddie moved from the doorway to the couch without giving him a second glance.
"Are you… are you okay?" asked Pick, quietly closing the door.
"No, Pick, I'm not okay all," she replied, her voice wavering. She looked up at him, tears shining in her eerie cat eyes. "Are you?"
Pick looked down at the floor guiltily. "Look, Eddie, last night I was torn up. I didn't know what to do. Everyone was crying and saying how we're gonna strike back and everything… and, for the first time in my life, I was scared. There's something out there that can kill fifty transgenics before being taken down. I was scared shitless and my instincts must've been acting up or something 'cause I had all this pent-up aggression. I just snapped. You've got to understand… I'm sorry." He moved forward and took a seat on the couch next to her. "I'm sorry, baby."
"I don't want to live my life with someone who's gonna hurt me—emotionally or physically," whispered Eddie slowly.
The X6's heart shattered upon hearing these words. "Is that what you think? That I'll do it again?" he asked, his voice breaking. The worst of it all was… she was right.
"Yes, that's what I think."
Pick grasped her tiny hands in his large ones and kissed her forehead as he whispered, "I would sooner kill myself than ever, ever hurt you again. I love you, and that's how it's always gonna be. I love you, baby. Please take me back, please. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you."
Eddie turned her head, but didn't pull away her hands. Instead, she leaned forward and rested her head on his strong shoulder. His arms instinctively went around her slim shoulders and he held her like that for what seemed like an eternity. Pick was too scared to speak, too afraid that his voice would break the moment and all this would end up as a dream, but when Eddie started purring he finally whispered, "Forgive me yet?"
The young woman turned and placed her hands on his arms. "Maybe." She tilted her head and touched his face. "You still haven't kissed me. To make this a proper Kodak moment, you have to seal it with a long, passionate, Soap Opera-worthy kiss."
"I do, huh?"
"Yep. We've stood here pouring out hearts out like an episode of a really bad Soap and now you are going to kiss me or I'm going to strangle you." She smiled sweetly and over-dramatically batted her eyelashes.
"Sounds good to me," Pick replied, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around her supple waist. "I love you, Eddie. I love you like this…" He kissed her, his body warming up to the caress of her warm tongue and the familiar sharpness of her teeth. "…with all my heart."
Eddie gave him a crooked grin and licked her lips, which were becoming red and swollen. A slightly dazed look came into her eyes as she replied, "You know, if the make up kiss is always going to be like that, we should fight more often."
Pick laughed, knowing that her humor meant all was forgiven, and cupped the side of her face. "Make up kiss? No, I had something much, much better in mind…" Removing his hand from her face, he grasped her hips and lifted her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist. "…Get the gist?"
"Oh, yeah. I get it." She pulled herself even closer to him and stroked his face with one hand, holding onto his neck with the other. "Shall we dance?"
"Yes please."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ames White finished negotiations with Colonel Briggs and exited the Hummer. One of the kids, a tall one with blonde hair and blue eyes, watched him with suspicious eyes as he walked away. "Damn transgenics," mumbled White. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the elder priestess' number.
"Speak," she said on the other side of the line.
"Feno's tol," said Ames. "I got a VIP ticket to victory, along with backstage passes."
"I don't have time for your word games," said the priestess, irritated.
"Don't worry about a thing. I have it all under control. I will, however, be needing ten warriors to help me."
"Of course. Whatever it takes to kill 452."
"Good. They'll be here in three days?"
"Yes."
"Alright. Feno's tol."
"Feno's tol." Click.
Ames chuckled to himself as he closed his cell and looked at the still-chanting crowd. "Let's see you get yourself out of this one, Max."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~