by iluvaqt@hotmail.com
QT's Notes: Blaze, you're back! Thank you so much for seeing into the story and getting right in there with the characters. You had me waltzing around the office with a stupid grin on my face after reading your feedback. After having a rant in my author's notes the other day, I hope this makes up for the eye sore. Many thanks, to those who do really appreciate my work. You know who you are. :)
Chapter 9: Trade Off
Worsely Corporation, founder and primary investor of Hope Institute for the Handicapped. Tonight was the charity Black & White ball to raise funds for a new genetic research laboratory. The institute had courses in science, athletics, medicine, and literature. Almost anything any other university had, and more. Specialty attention, after-hours access and on campus monitored boarding houses. A wonderful institution but a huge expense.
Tash idly toyed with the handset's aerial. It was 5:30; she was supposed to be ready to meet Alec at 6 o'clock. All she could think about was Max and how she was going to tell Alec, hosting a charity ball didn't weight highly on her priority list at this point. Logan needed a lead and she kept wondering whether she should call - whether she could - him. She had his cell number. She'd even programmed it into her phone, for an emergency, she'd argued. It wasn't as if there was time to debate. She had to make the call, she just couldn't seem to press the speed-dial button.
A rap on the door broke through her thoughts. Her brother was standing in the doorway, tux already on, black bow tie perfectly executed.
He gave her a warm smile. "You okay?" She gave him a genuine smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. He read a lot of sadness there, and wished with everything he had that somehow he could change that.
"I'm okay. I feel terrible that I haven't told Alec, but" she faltered and her brother frowned.
Jones moved into the office and perched on the desk across from her. "Did you call your friend in Seattle, Logan?"
Tash put the handset back in its cradle and brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. "I finally got through to him a little while ago. He's onto it already, needs me to get some information for him. I'd still like to go, you know."
Jones balled his fist unconsciously. Tash noticed that he did this a lot when he was frustrated. "But Logan told you not to, right?" When his sister didn't argue, his hand seemed to relax. "I know you want to find Max, but if something happens to youit'll kill mom, you know that." He wanted to say how much it would hurt to loose his only sister again, but he didn't want to sound like a sentimental fool.
Tash resisted a smile. She knew what he really wanted to say. It didn't matter that he hadn't, she knew. Like father, like son. One day, little brother. One day, you'll tell me. She pushed her chair back and gave him a big hug. "I'll let go before I crinkle you," she giggled. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a lump lodge in his throat. He was struggling to keep a straight face.
"Listen, Tasha. I'll get you my contact's number, I'm sure they'll be able to dig up something for you. He works for the FBI, he must have a connection in the NSA, that'll know something about Ames White."
Without hesitation she have him a kiss on the cheek, leaving bright red lips
on his skin. "Thank you, Jones. And I promise, I'll keep you updated. OK?"
"Alright," he replied. "I'll call you will that number."
She sat back down and it wasn't till her brother had disappeared out the door that she remembered the lipstick mark on his cheek. Oh well, she mused. Someone'll find it for him and the office would have someone other than herself to gossip about.
Jones called five minutes later with the number and Tash gave the contact a call.
"Quinten Jacobs, speaking." A woman's voice said.
A little flustered but not stumped, Tash relied, "Natasha Worsely, calling. Jones gave me your numberI'm sorry, I was just expecting someone else."
The woman laughed, "My associate likes to take my calls. And well with my name, it's not hard to make the assumption that I'm supposed to be a guy."
"Oh. Well, I still apologize for the mix up."
"No problem," Quinten replied. "What are you after?"
"I'm chasing some information on someone. Jones said you might be able to help me out." There was a pause on the other end and Tash felt her hopes for an easy way out start to crumble. Calling Dean Baxter was her last resort.
"Give me a name and I'll see what I can come up with."
~*~*~*~
"Ames White," Logan said aloud.
Bling stood in the doorway, one shoulder resting on the doorframe. It had only been a couple of days since he'd dropped in on Logan. And then it had seemed like everything was finally settling down for them. All of them. They'd all been through hell the last couple of months. The real miracle had been that they had all made it through together. Well, mostly. Asha had moved up North, to be with her cousin. Although, Bling reasoned, it had more to do with distancing herself from Logan. Alec and Tash moved back East. And to his knowledge, Tash had reunited with her family. Which he thought was for the best, considering she and Dean had parted on awkward terms. That was putting it mildly according to Original Cindy. And Max, well, the girl would always be a handful. Stubborn, proud and aggressive, but that was just the well-crafted exterior. Inside, Bling knew, was a well-guarded, heart of gold. And Logan needed a strong-minded, independent woman. Someone to match his passion in all things, and someone he could share his dreams with. Bling smiled to himself in spite of things, knowing he'd found that woman in, Angelina.
Logan swiveled in his chair and abruptly stood up. "I can't sit around waiting anymore. I can't sit here and do nothing, while Max is probablyGod knows, I don't even want to think about it."
"Logan, just take a minute," Bling reasoned. He moved towards his friend and punched a key on the PC. "You are working on this." He brought up the picture that the computer was still enhancing. The image was magnified 300% and the image editor was still combing over the pixels. It'd be awhile yet before the process would be complete. "You're doing all you can, considering the circumstances. Just wait for her to call, okay."
Just at that moment, the phone rang and Logan jumped to answer it. "Yeah."
He couldn't have been more relieved to hear Tash's voice. "Tell me you
got something."
"I can give you plenty. Ames jumped bail last week. We know he showed up
in Seattle on Tuesday because the family car went missing. His wife didn't report
it, because she's too upset over his case to want to add to his charges. She
reasoned that it was his car anyway. He's accessed his NSA portal three times
since his arrest, once last week and twice today. They've been able to track
the IP address to an Internet café in Seattle. The address is 477 West
Brook Ave. But I called the owner already, says all his patrons pay cash. And
the sign-in register is only voluntary. Ames' car is a 2001 Silver Mercedes"
"I got the rego, in need an address."
Tash gave him the address of Ames' estate and asked if he needed a hand with anything else. "Are you sure you'll be okay? I have a plane ready, I could be there in a few hours."
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, he need sleep. He could use some of her soup'd up genetics right now, but the last thing he wanted was another back to watch. Between Max, Bling and himself, he had enough to handle. "Thanks, Tash but I'll be fine. Bling's here. Just keep it under wraps, okay. OC's already worried out of her mind, I don't need you and Alec" He stopped himself short. She had a right to be worried too. They all did. "I'm sorry Tash, I just want Max out of there before things heat up. There's gotta be an APB out for White by now. I promise we'll get to her before them. We have to."
~*~*~*~
White walked along the catwalk towards the end railing. He'd called a few of his old agency buddies, but it'd be awhile yet before they arrived. At the moment, Nate was his only back up. The ex-Marine Captain maybe retired, but he still knew how to play the game.
Nate was downstairs, patrolling, until back up checked in. Their Russian friends
would be arriving in a few hours. So far, everything was going according to
plan.
Her stomach growled angrily and a sharp stab ripped across her abdomen, nearly
causing her to cry out. She bit her lip till the taste of blood filled her mouth.
Her arms were beginning to numb. She strained hopelessly against the ties again,
but they didn't give way. If anything, it seemed like they were getting tighter.
Closing her eyes she let her chin rest on her collarbone. That was until she felt eyes watching her. Her head jerked up, to meet the cold hate-filled blue eyes staring back at her.
"Feeling alright?" White questioned, noticing the pale complexion of her face. Not that he cared if she was in pain or not. But if she were sick, it'd affect his negotiated fee.
Max didn't even want to speculate as to where his twisted concern originated. All she had to know was that it came from a place of hate, which could only mean that her health was for his gain.
He held an index finger to his earpiece and spoke to Nate. "I need you in here. We're bringing her down."
Before she could react, the cage swayed and her unsteady legs couldn't stabilize her. Her body pulled heavily on her wrists and the already raw skin began to bleed. When the metal bars hit the concrete floor, the clank reverberated off the walls and echoed in her skull. From the shadows a gray-bearded man appeared, before her pain-addled brain could make out what he was holding, a red dart pierced her chest and blackness enveloped her again.
The same man hovered over Max's body; taking her temperature, her blood pressure. He injected her and wrapped her wounds after cleaning them. Doing several tests, he went to a side bench to scribble notes and study his samples.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, she started to feel her hands again. Her arms burned like they were on fire, as the blood rushed back through the tissue and nerves gave back feeling to her restrained limbs. Slowly clenching her fists, she cringed as hundreds of needles jabbed from under her skin. She tried moving, but she was stuck. The blackness became an inky pool, swimming in her eyes. She was drowning, and she had to come up for air.
The doctor noticed that she was beginning to wake up and wanted to put as much distance between himself and his patient as possible. Unconscious she seemed harmless enough, but from Ames' warnings, he wouldn't like to test his luck. He quickly opened the door and slipped out. Bolting it firmly behind him.
"Is she healthy?" White asked, approaching the doctor. He'd been waiting outside the whole time. Ready to go in the second something might have gone wrong.
"With the exception of the lacerations, bruising and a minor complication, she's in perfect health. Her blood count is good and her hemoglobin levels are excellent. Genetics, exactly as her X5 series spec sheet states."
"She'll heal quickly. You patched her up?" White asked. "What about the complications?"
The doctor put his board under his arm and scratched his head uncomfortably. He didn't want to have to address this issue, he wasn't sure that it would be welcome information. And you never wanted to be the bearer of unwelcome news around Ames White. "She's pregnant."
To his credit, White looked shocked and even a little remorseful. "Maybe, naive of me, but I didn't think they could procreate."
The doctor shook his head. "I did hear on the grapevine that before the government shut the project down, they were beginning a new breeding program."
"Sick, but profitable." White thanked his old colleague and walked him out. "I don't have to tell you to keep this quiet?"
The old doctor met Ames' eyes. "I never believed you'd work against the best interest of the agency, much less the country. Like you said, they seem innocent enough, but it's not how they were designed. They're a danger to us."
Ames gave him a thick envelope and waited till the other man got into his car. "You're right, my old friend. They're a threat to us all."