"That's why I want your help."
She closed the folder and tossed it onto the coffee table, shaking her head. "What? So I guess you think you can figure me all out and pull out these pretty pictures here and think I'll help you? For nothing?"
"I can help you find the others." He told her.
"And how do you know I want to find them?" She snapped.
"How could you not?" He asked quietly. "I mean, if it was me, I would."
"Well it isn't you." She sneered and stood up, then crossed her arms and stared down at him angrily. Who the hell does he think he is? He doesn't even know me! She turned to walk out of the apartment, but stopped when she realized something. The look on her face softened just a bit and she turned to look at him again. "What would you need help with?"
"I have to meet a woman tonight, Lauren Braganza." He explained. "She's going to testify against Edgar Sonrisa. She worked for one of his managers and witnessed workers removing cortodiazapine from gelcaps by hand and replacing it with powdered sugar. Now that she's willing to talk, Sonrisa wants her silenced."
"And how does that have anything to do with me?"
"Well, I figured with your..." He paused to search for the right word. "Background, you might be able to help with -"
"You want me to be a bodyguard." It wasn't a question.
"More or less." He shrugged.
She stood for a moment, silent and obviously deep in thought. With each second that ticked by Logan became more and more worried that she would say no, which would leave him in a not so good situation. He kept his face as neutral as possible when she looked him in the eye, which was no easy task.
"I'm going to help you." She said finally. "But don't think it's because I want to help you. I'm being very selfish here and I'm proving to myself that I'm not Manticore anymore."
"Sorry?"
"If I was still Manticore's perfect little soldier, I'd walk out of here, but not before flipping you off of course." She explained. "But I'm not that anymore, so I'm going to help you."
Not the best, but I'll take it. Logan thought.
"So, when and where is this going down?" She inquired.
"Down by the water front, dock fifteen, eight o'clock."
"Okay, I'll be there."
"Max -"
"This conversation is over." She interrupted. "You better bring something with you tonight, 'cause I want my payment upfront. I don't work for nothing and I don't play games."
"Understood." He replied and gave a curt nod.
"Good." She replied, then turned and walked out of the apartment.
Logan sat back and went over the entire conversation in his mind. She had definitely won, of that he was sure, but he wasn't quite sure of much else. She hadn't been too happy that she was listed on a government database, and had been curious as to how he would "take care of it for her," but he wasn't quite secure with telling her about Eyes Only.
Maybe if tonight goes well I'll tell her. He thought.
* * * * *
Max frowned as she looked at her watch; 8:15. The man was sloppy. When someone told her eight o'clock, she arrived at seven fifty-five. Must be the military bitch in me, she mused with a smirk. She scoffed and rolled her eyes at herself, sick of smirks. Logan had smirked a few times during their conversation that day and it had royally pissed her off, but at the time he had been talking about finding her siblings, so who was she to slap - or punch - the smirk off his face? 8:17. Now she was starting to get pissed off.
At exactly 8:25, just when Max was considering leaving, the ugliest car she had ever seen pulled up beside her, headlights blaring. She got off her bike, ready to tell Logan just where he could shove his bodyguard work, and stalked over to the car just as he was getting out.
"A little late, aren't we?" She snapped, hands on her hips.
"Well, I assumed -"
"Look," She interrupted. Logan noticed she had been doing a lot of that. "When you tell a person eight o'clock, that person thinks you mean eight o'clock, and you especially arrive on time if that person has a hostile military background and could kick your ass from here to New York."
"I apologize." Logan told her. "Peter and I got held up."
"Doing what?" She asked.
"He was busy finding information on your little problem." Peter entered the conversation. "He didn't want to leave until he had something for you."
"Oh." She said, softening. "Well... okay then. Can I see it?"
Logan nodded and opened the door of the Aztek, reached inside and pulled out a folder. He handed it to Max with an indifferent expression, though he really did care what she thought of his work - though he wasn't sure why.
She flipped through the information, then shoved it inside her jacket. "So, where is she?"
"She should be here soon." He told her. "I told her to come a little late in case someone had found out about the meeting she'd have a little time."
Hoping it wouldn't be too long of a wait, Max shoved her hands in her pockets and looked up at the moon.