Summary: It's the party! Syl and Krit have a little 'sibling rivalry' going on, White's on the lookout for our heroes, and Max & Alec make their grand entrances.
Disclaimer: Copyright for Dark Angel belongs to several lucky people like Titanic dude and Eglee guy. I own nothing besides the plot and several characters like Riley Fox – though I gotta admit that I took his name from Buffy's Season 4-5 boyfriend, Riley Finn. There are also references to the Simpsons, I Love Lucy (though VERY VERY slight – in fact, I'll give you a cookie if you spotted it!), and a very famous western movie starring Robert Redford and Paul Newman (haven't personally seen it, but heard it was good – Rotten Tomatoes gave it a 100% rating!).
A/N: Dear, I'm disappointed with myself by how long it takes me to write this. It's been in my head for ages, but I just never had the motivation to write it. Well, to make up for it, I'm giving you an extra long chapter!! I hope people are still interested…
A/N2: Thank you so much for allowing me to reach that hundredth mark, you guys!! Your reviews, as usual, blow me away. Just a few shut-outs. To Alexandra Bruderlin (who gave two separate reviews for one chapter!): I hope you enjoy some more Syl/Krit interaction here (I promise you it'll be S/K in the end). To Cloudburst: Thanks for taking the time to leave a thorough review, despite your busyness. And thanks to all the other folks out there who like my characterizations. Btw, I find some of your ideas for White really interesting, hehehe. Falling in love with Otto? Hmm…
A/N3: I made a tiny correction in chap 12. I put down the Fox party on the 31st of August when it's actually the 31st of October. Therefore it's a Halloween sort of Masquerade Ball and the timeline is 4 months after the siege begins.
Chapter 14: Marks and Covers.
Max stands in front of the mirror, fully dressed in the orange dress her siblings have picked out for her for this mission. She DEFINITELY thinks that orange is NOT her color.
Couldn't have they picked black or white or anything less… bright? And something with more material would be good.
She frowns as she stares at her protruding cleavage in the mirror.
Alec is going to have a riot.
In addition to being low-cut, the dress is also strapless. After years of covering herself in dark inconspicuous clothes, Max feels quite, well, naked in this outfit. She self-consciously touches the back of her neck and turns around to check that her barcode is completely invisible. The four X5s had gotten it removed on a little trip to the laser parlor the day before.
In the five days before they had to leave TC, Max was kept busy organizing extra security with Mole, warding off Gem's worried warnings, getting Dix to hack off the blueprint for the Fox Estate, rescuing some X6s from the clutches of good ol' Ames, getting annoyed at Nina for wanting to come to their heist…
Max recalls Alec urging her ("It can't hurt, Max. She can be back up.") and her immediate dismissal ("No! We agreed that if we're going do this, it's just going to be the four of us. I'm not risking any more.").
Now, though, Max has to admit that some technical support would've been nice. Not necessarily Nina, but maybe Dix or Luke could've come and acted as their eyes and ear for when they go back in to retrieve their targets later tonight.
"Max, you ready in there? I know that it's a big shock to see yourself in something remotely, uh, 'feminine', but if we don't take off right now, we're going to miss the party."
Max just sighs as she hears Alec's voice through the bathroom door. After they got out of TC, she and her three partners-in-crime had checked into this cheesy motel (called 'Slumber's Paradise' for God's sake!) just outside of Seattle. Syl and Krit have gone ahead to the party, leaving Max approximately 30 minutes before she is due to arrive with Alec.
"Max? What are you doing? Havin' yourself a bubble bath? Come on, I'll gladly join you later."
Max frowns and gives the door a nasty glare. She tucks in some loose strands of hair into her bun and tries to smile.
Okay, this won't be so bad. I just have to do a little schmoozing, make some intelligent remarks, give out a couple of polite giggles… Piece of cake.
"Max? Maxie??" Then, after a brief silence, "Fine. We'll just hang out here for the night. Order some porn, pop open a couple of brewskies, do that bubble bath thing that you love so much… Syl and Krit'll understand."
Then again, I have to put up with Alec and his wise-cracking ass for an entire night. Oh, Joy… Well, let's get this over with.
Max lets out a huge breath and walks out of the bathroom.
Alec is standing in the middle of the room, doing his tie, when Max comes out. He has to admit that Max looks REALLY good in a dress; a welcome change, really, from her regular leather-clad-sado-masochistic look. He lets his eyes roam her body and deliberately lingers on her nicely-defined chest.
"See, Max, it wouldn't kill you to step out of the leather once and a while. The dress really, uh, flaunts all your 'assets'."
Max doesn't miss the extra glance that he casts at her 'assets'. She walks toward him with an exasperated look, just stopping short in front of him. "Take a picture if you really like it, pretty boy, 'cause this is a one-time thing. Now close your mouth before I snap it shut for you." And with that, she hastily grabs his tie, pulls it tight on his neck, and walks out of the room.
Alec stifles a cough and loosens his tie. Couldn't have Manticore stocked up more lady-like gene in her cocktail?
"Alec, move your ass!"
"Yeah, I'm comin'. Keep your panties on." He grabs his jacket and follows her outside.
***
The Fox Estate is built on top of a small island off the coast of Seattle. There is a small roadway that connects it to the mainland, but other than that, the only way in is through the air or the water. The distance from the nearest coast to the island is about two miles. So anyone intending to break in has better be one helluva swimmer. Well, any HUMAN, that is.
Syl is just thinking about this as she and Krit stand around near the buffet table, memorizing the schematics of the room and the positions of the security cameras. She also notices several of those rent-a-cops with Uzis, walking around and guarding the entrances. Despite that, security at the door has been curiously lean, though. They have metal detectors and the sort, but other than that, they only checked for invites.
So far, Syl is bored. They've managed to locate two of their targets within twenty minutes of their arrival. From what Syl's gathered, this Fox guy seems to be a mucho exhibitionist. He puts most of his treasures in plain view – no doubt with the purpose of showing them off to his guests tonight – which just makes it way easy (almost disappointingly boring, really) for experienced cat burglars such as Krit and herself. Fox might as well have put in his invitation: 'Calling all thieves! Scores galore!'
They still need to locate their third mark, though. And they sure as hell won't find it by standing around, looking like party favors. Syl feels they should get moving, mingling with the privileged crowd, if need be. Unfortunately, as she shall find, that task is not going to be easy, considering her partner-in-crime's new found discovery of the OTHER treasures displayed so exquisitely on the buffet table.
"Krit, come on. We need to get moving. We still have that Tolkien to find."
"Wof? Com wif do daft laderf? Jusf give me a secf, owfkay?"
Syl turns to find her heist partner stuffed COMPLETELY in the mouth with crab-cakes & caviar. His hands hold numerous other trinkets that probably cost like twenty bucks a pop. He DOES NOT look very appealing. Syl whacks him upside the head. "Stay focused!"
Krit, who comes very close to choking on expensive crustacean, manages to muster an incensed look. "I am focused! But who was the one who decided to skip dinner and go straight to the party? Who was the one who said, 'Krit, we don't have time to eat! We'll be late for the party! There'll be tonnes of food there anyway. You can eat there'. Hah! It's your fault that I'm hungry." He finishes by popping a piece of pastry in his mouth.
"Well, hungry's one thing, but you looked like Homer in a donut shop! You were licking your hands for God's sake!"
"Uh, no offense to Gem and those other people at TC, but I really wouldn't call the thing we eat there 'food'. I mean there's only so much cold porridge and lumpy potatoes a guy can eat." He pauses to chuck some shrimp cocktail down his throat. "Hmm… Let me tell ya, this Fox dude sure knows how to throw a party. This is straight up five star grub. You should try some, Syl. Here." He picks up an oyster and feeds it to his fuming companion.
Syl's gotta admit that that was one good oyster. "Yes, that's very nice, Krit. We'll grab a nice big doggy bag for you later on. Now can we PLEASE get back to our mission?"
"Alright, alright." Krit grabs a couple more cakes and joins Syl to survey the crowd. "So what are we doing now?"
"Well, I figure that we bump shoulders with the elites and keep an eye out for that Tolkien. Maybe dig around the other guests to see if they've seen it around."
"Great. All we gotta do is charm the pants off some rich old folks and we'll be golden."
Krit takes a look around the room. Most of the guests tonight are Seattle's most prominent socialites, whose age-range, as it seems, happens to fall between the late 30s and the early 70s. In fact, except for some professional gold-diggers and a couple of stoked-up-supermodel-types, he and Syl are probably among the very few in their early 20s. Krit thinks that he can use that to his advantage, "It'll be a piece-of-cake, Syl. I'm EXCELLENT at charming the more, uh, matured ladies. Particularly the old-maid types, which, as I can see, are in abundance here." He gives a dashing smile to a woman in her late 40s who is ordering wine across the bar. The woman blushes in return. Krit grins smugly. "Heck, I might as well pick their jewels while I'm at it."
Syl recognizes a challenge when she sees one. "Oh please, Krit. Once I'm through with these cradle-robbing old farts, they'll practically be handing over their cheque-books to me."
"Care to make a wager on that?"
"What? You want to play that game now?"
"Why the hell not? This party's boring as it is. Come on! It'll be fun. Person who gets most mementos from their victims at the end of the night… can get the loser to do anything he – or she – wishes."
"Oh, you're on, little boy!"
"Little boy?"
"I don't know what came over me."
"Right… You're still going down, Syl."
"Whatever… Hey, look, there's Maxie and Alec coming." Syl points to the entrance where the two newly-arrived trannies have just cleared the metal detectors.
"Oh, and there goes Fox." Krit watches as Riley Fox makes their way to welcome the two new guests.
Riley Fox has taken care to welcome each new guest tonight. Krit decides that he doesn't really like Fox. The guy first comes across as a buffoon; like a guy who has way too much money without really knowing how to spend it and therefore squanders it on anything and everything. At the same time, though, Krit also feels like there's more to him than he's letting on. Not necessarily in a cruel and evil way, but you definitely don't hold on to your riches in the post-pulse world by being Johnny Clueless.
Like when Fox greeted them earlier. Syl and Krit were ready with their cover: Krit is attending tonight as Richard 'Ricky' Moran III, the future heir of the very high-profile, yet extremely private, Moran family. They are mostly based in the East Coast, but Ricky seems to handle the family's business in the West Coast. Ricky also happens to be – believe it or not – a race car driver, who seems to spend a considerable amount of time in Monaco. Syl and Krit have confirmed that he is there at the moment, thus allowing Krit to assume his identity (Syl and Krit had snagged his invite while robbing his uninhabited penthouse in downtown Seattle). Syl is coming as Ricky's air-headed girlfriend, Lucy.
On the surface, Fox seemed to completely buy it. He didn't ask tricky questions and let them go after only five minutes. Yet, Krit can not help but feel that there was something in his eyes that told him that Fox knew more. He asked Syl about this afterwards and she apparently felt it too. They decided to maintain as minimal contact with Fox as possible in the party.
Still, Krit has full confidence that Maxie and Alec will hold their own in front of Fox. He averts his gaze from them back to Syl, "So you ready to pinch some of these nice rich folks?"
"As ready as you are, bro." She fixes back her mask (it is a Masquerade Ball after all).
He does the same and offers her his arm, "Shall we?"
She smiles, taking it, "We shall."
And together they make their way to a cluster of Rolexes and Cartiers on the balcony.
***
Apparently, Syl and Krit aren't the only ones who notice the arrival of Max and Alec.
In another part of the mansion, inside the surveillance room, Special Agent White observes the entrance of 452 and 494 through one of the many monitors linked to the security cameras. Both X5s are wearing masks (in consistent with the Halloween theme) and look considerably 'cleaner' than their day-to-day appearance, but to White, there is no mistaking that cocky, filthy transgenic exterior.
"All units, this is White. Subjects are on site, in the entrance hall. Be advised to hold your positions," he talks through his comm. link to the agents in the party, who are disguised as regular security guys. "Notify Fox of this development, but stress that IN NO WAY is he to reveal his knowledge."
Otto speaks up from behind him, "Sir, are you sure that you don't want to retrieve them now? What if they abort the heist?"
"Don't worry, Otto. They are too sure of themselves to cancel their plan."
White watches as his agents let the two Transgenics through the metal detector, which actually doubles as a heat detector (it easily revealed the other two X5s who have come earlier). In another screen, he sees one agent whisper the information to Fox. Fox looks at the camera slightly before making his way toward 452 and 494.
White can not believe the utter stupidity of the transgenics. Pulling a heist! I've given you too much credit, 452… He relishes at the prospect of obtaining the four X5s. Immediately, he plans to torture the other three to force 452 to tell him where his son is.
From information obtained from his mole, it seems that 452 regards 701 and 471 – other '09 escapees – as her 'siblings'. White has never heard anything more ridiculous, but he figures that he can definitely use this to his advantage since 452 will hardly let either of them die. Perhaps he should start with 701, submitting her to a slow and painful death, before moving on to 471. Then, when that's over, he'll still have 494.
White has to admit that he underestimated 494. Not only did he avoid a certain explosion in his brainstem, but he also managed to gather force with 452, making her irritatingly harder to crush. White will definitely enjoy killing 494. From what he's gathered, 452 has also developed a certain bond – whatever that may be – with 494 and will unlikely let him die.
White laughs inwardly. 452 really amuses me with her sentimental attachments…
Also, if this plan succeeds, then he needn't bother sending in his two carefully-trained assassins, which is all the more better, since he can hardly stand dealing with those X5s.
White observes 452 as she talks to Fox. Enjoy the party, 452…
***
Max can not believe how easy it is to pass security at the entrance. She and Alec only have to flash their invite and pass a metal detector before being let through. It is almost TOO easy… She does not have much time to ponder on this, however, since she immediately spots Riley Fox making his way to them.
Max adjusts the mask on her face and plasters on a smile. Here we go…
Riley Fox greets them with a simple nod, "Welcome to my Estate. I am your host, Riley Fox. And who might you be, lovely young lady?" He seizes one of Max's hands and bends down to kiss it.
To Max, Riley Fox looks like your average distinguished rich guy: in his late 50s, wearing nothing less than imported silk, and sporting a handlebar moustache. For such a rich guy though, Max is surprised to see that his toupee is just downright horrendous.
Alec apparently notices that too and chuckles in Max's ears, "Hey, check out the dead skunk on this guy's head."
"Alec!" In her haste, however, Max forgets to whisper.
Though Fox does not seem to hear Alec's comment, he obviously heard hers. "Excuse me?"
"Uh… Aleccxxandra Cassidy. Very charmed to meet you, Mr. Fox." Max smiles at him charmingly to cover up that little hiccup.
"Ah, Ms. Cassidy… Of course! I recently had lunch with your stepson, Jonathan. I hope things are well between the two of you?"
Max has done a little digging on this Cassidy chick. Apparently, her life has been a gold digger's dream. A year ago, the struggling dancer scored big by marrying philanthropist Robert Cassidy… who also happened to be three times her age. Seven months into the marriage, Cassidy dropped dead from a stroke and left his entire estate, plus 51% of his company's shares, to his young new wife (much to his only son Jonathan's frustration). Suffice to say that things have not been cordial between the two. Lucky for Max though, Jonathan was prevented from attending tonight by an important meeting with a client in Mexico. And it seems that the young heiress prefers to enjoy her new gilded life in Europe, rendering her relatively unknown in Seattle (that is by face, not by name, since Robert Cassidy WAS a major player in the business world).
"Things are improving, Mr. Fox. It's not easy for him to lose a father that he so admires. He feels the need to blame someone."
"And yourself? It must be difficult to lose your husband after such a short marriage…"
Max puts on her sad voice, "Yes, it has been very hard. I really miss Robbie, but I know that he would have wanted me to continue on with my life." Yeah, which must be hell easy, considering the amount of dough she got. "I've been managing quite well."
"I heard that you just recently returned from Paris. I haven't had the chance to travel much this year. Tell me, how is the City of Lights?"
Max pretends to consider it, "Dazzling, Mr. Fox."
That seems to satisfy Fox. He turns to look at Alec and offers up his hand. "I'm sorry I didn't seem to catch your name. You are?"
Alec grins and shakes his hand, "Maxwell Kid. 'Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fox."
"I don't believe to have heard of you, Mr. Kid. What kind of business are you involved in?"
"I would imagine you haven't, Mr. Fox. I mostly dabble in real estates, but primarily based in Europe. My company specializes in major estates, castles, and coast retreats. In fact, I happen to meet Ms. Cassidy when she was trying to sell her lovely beach house in Nice." 'Sounds believable enough, right? Alec feels his training – to expertly bullshit through his cover – kicking in. Hey Manticore didn't spend their big bucks on me for nothing…
"How did you get involved in that business, Mr. Kid?"
"Well, I've always had a passion for buildings and structures. Unfortunately, I never made it as an architect. Being a real estate agent was the next best thing."
"And you only operate in Europe?"
"I find that Europe still has the best architectures and also better market, Mr. Fox, especially after the pulse. This is actually the first time I've been back at the States in five years. It feels good to be home, though."
"Well, if you ever considered extending your franchise to the US, then don't hesitate to contact me. I may know a few connections that can help you get established."
"I appreciate that, Mr. Fox. And you know who to contact if you decided to sell this remarkable piece of property." Alec points to a prominent structure in the foyer, "Venetian columns, 16th century? Beautiful choice."
"Certainly, Mr. Kid. Now, I must ask you two to excuse me. I need to greet some new guests. It has really been my pleasure to meet you and do enjoy the party."
"Thank you," Max and Alec answer simultaneously. They watch as Fox makes his way to welcome the new guests: a married couple in their 30s, who look like they're in the legal professions.
Max pulls up her mask slightly as she turns to look at Alec, "Maxwell Kid? What the hell kind of name is that?"
"What? I figure, since you took my name, why not I take yours?"
"I didn't take your name. Her name is Alex, smart-ass." She rolls her eyes at him. "No, I meant, what the hell kind of last name is 'Kid'?"
"Butch and Sundance, Max!"
"Who and what-dance?"
"Oh come on! Don't tell me… Butch CASSIDY and the Sundance KID? Famous western outlaws, robbed stuff mostly, CLASSIC pre-pulse movie… Any of these ring a bell?"
"What the hell are you on about?"
"Oh come on, Max. You've had ten years ahead of me! Don't tell me you've never heard of them." At Max's blank look, Alec tsks, "'Gotta say that I'm disappointed, Maxie. You could be a little more culturally-informed…"
"I'm sorry that my cultural knowledge isn't to your satisfaction, Alec, but some people do have some better things to do than watch movies… Like, you know, make a living? Have a job?"
"I'm just sayin' that it's nice to have your cultural references appreciated once in a while. Makes you feel more clever and all, you know?" He smirks at her but is only given a pout in return. Hmm, tough crowd. "But speaking of making a living… What say you we look for those marks, huh?"
Max pulls her mask back and starts to walk away from him, "Whatever. Just don't get on my hair tonight. I've got enough with playing stupid gold digger without you busting my chops for looney-disney reference…"
Alec catches up to her. "That was a nice touch by the way, 'I really miss Robbie…' You totally won the old guy's heart."
Max shoves him in the shoulders, "Shut up."
"Manners, Maxie. Remember, you're supposed to be a prim and proper socialite tonight."
"Well this prim and proper socialite will politely kick your butt if you don't shut your trap."
"Alright… Geez!" Alec takes a look around the room, "You seen Syl and Krit?"
"Yeah, they're over there in the balcony." Max watches as Syl giggles against a particularly large gentleman – easily lifting his gold fountain pen – while Krit seems to hold the attention – and the diamond-encrusted hand – of a slightly-more-than-tipsy middle age woman. Max can not help but feel amused. That's her siblings!
"Well, better left them to their devices, huh? So where do you want to start?"
"The Ballroom, I guess. Judging by this guy's décor, he doesn't seem the type to hide his goodies in a safe. So our marks will most probably be in plain view."
"Lead the way."
***
Little do they know that Fox and presumably three dozens pairs of eyes, including White's, are following their every move…
A/N: Alrighty, what do you guys think of their cover stories? Basically I just bullshit my way through all that. I have no knowledge of architecture whatsoever, so I have no clue what a Venetian column is. And, does the name 'Ricky Moran' (Krit's cover) familiar to anyone? Coz it does to me, but I can't remember where it's from. So yeah, not trying to infringe on anyone's copyright… And since the start of this story, I've always had this idea of Max and Alec switching names during a job. Thought it'd be amusing.
Um, I know that nothing terribly exciting's happening in this chapter, but I promise that something very interesting will happen in the next one (Logan will definitely in it if that helps. Ha ha). Anyway, what do you think of Fox? To tell you the truth, I had a hard time writing a proper rich guy's speech. And White? I know that his thoughts are so villain-cliché, but I can't seem to write him any other way. Syl & Krit? Otto? That poor woman Krit's going to rob? Tell me what you think!