Disclaimer: Dark Angel and its characters are copyright 2001-2002 Twentieth Century Fox Studios and James Cameron and Charles Eglee. This original story is copyright 2003 Star24.
Chapter Nine
Waterfront
Max carefully concealed her messenger bike in an alley, after locking it securely to what looked like an old pole of the type used to protect propane gas tanks from being accidentally ruptured. The tanks were long gone but the protective poles remained and appeared to be sturdy. When she was satisfied that her bike wasn't going anywhere, Max zipped her leather jacket closed. Before she left the alley she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and checked the display. The cell was fully charged and she frowned. She started to drop it back into her pocket but on impulse she punched the button to see if she had any messages.
One message came up and she pushed the play button and waited impatiently for it to begin. Logan's voice came over it within seconds.
"Damn it. Of all times for me to hit a dead area it had to be when Logan called." Max muttered to herself. She punched Logan's speed dial and waited as the phone beeped in her ear.
"You have reached the number you've reached. Leave a message" Logan's voice said to her calmly.
"Logan, I missed your call. You didn't tell me where you were going. Hit me back. I'm following up a lead I got at the Dolphin Tavern down by the waterfront. It's probably nothing but I had a delivery in the area and figured I'd swing by and check it out." She snapped her phone closed and dropped it back into her jacket pocket.
When she strolled casually out of the alley she made a left and looked down the street. Sure enough a half block away, a dilapidated sign that said Dolphin Tavern swung lazily in the breeze coming off of the water. The paint on the sign was faded and chipped and the chain on one side was shorter than on the other causing it to hang at a slant. Max glanced around the area and noted the debris piled against buildings, as well as several heaps of rags in doorways which she suspected were winos settled in for the night. Down the block a rough looking group of men were huddled under an anemic streetlamp which was sputtering and flickering as it tried to kick on in the growing dusk.
She sighed and walked briskly to the Dolphin. She pushed open the heavy green door, taking note of the peeling paint, and stepped into a smoky, dimly lit room. One wall was taken up by a long bar with rough wooden stools lined up along it. Small wooden tables with an assortment of unmatched chairs took up most of the rest of the floor space. Despite the early hour the tavern was fairly crowded with what looked to be dockworkers who had just finished their shifts. The crowd was masculine and rough; if Max had been an ordinary female she would have turned and left immediately. Instead she stepped into the tavern and walked confidently to the bar, ignoring the looks she was getting. She pulled over an empty stool and waited for the bartended to come over.
The bartender, a grizzled looking man in his early fifties, walked over and gave her a long look.
"Give me whatever you have on tap." Max said coolly.
"Miss, I'd suggest you find another place to make that order," the man said, wiping his hands on the grubby apron he wore. "This isn't the place for a woman alone. Unless you're looking for more than just what's on tap."
Max returned his look evenly and pulled out a few bills. "I said I'll take what you have on tap."
The man shrugged and left to draw her beer. When he returned he put it in front of her, grabbed the bills and turned as if to leave.
Max pulled out another bill. "I'm also looking for some information."
The man eyed the money warily. "Around here it's best if you mind your own business. Which is what I do."
Max gave him a sultry smile. "I'm looking for someone who I heard might know about a box that's gone missing. A heavy metal box. It's worth a lot to my boss if I can get it back for him."
"Your boss shouldn't have sent a little girl like you down here to run his errands," the man snorted.
Max's hand shot across the bar and grabbed the neck of his shirt. "I know that one of your patrons has been talking about a box he found. Now you can tell me who it is and point him out to me and take this money, or I can take you in back, and you'll still tell me but I keep the money. Which is it gonna be?" She gave the man's shirt a twist and he gasped for air. After a moment Max released him and sat back and took a sip of her beer.
"It's your funeral. His name's Jack, or at least that's what he goes by. He's at the table in the back. Near the dartboard. Wearing the plaid shirt. "The man spat out. He grabbed the money and left Max to sit and finish her beer.
Max took her time finishing off her beer and then tuned to casually survey the smoky room. It only took her a moment to locate a man wearing a plaid shirt, sitting at a table near the back of the room. Four other men were with him. All of them had the build of stevedores who spend their days hefting heavy items. Several empty pitchers were on the table in front of them. She hopped down from the bar stool and began to walk to the rear of the room.
As she passed tables, hands came out and grabbed at her.
"Hey baby, come to Papa John"
"Forget that loser, I got what you want right here."
Max ignored the lewd comments and neatly avoided the hands until she stood with hands on hips at the table where Jack and his companions sat.
The men turned and looked her over. "You lookin' for someone, honey?" one of them drawled.
"I'm lookin' for Jack." Max replied.
The men at the table hooted and whistled. "Jack, it's your lucky day," said one of them with a leer, letting his eyes roam freely over Max.
Jack grunted. "What dya want?"
"I want to talk to you. Alone." Max said.
"She wants to talk to him, alone," said one of them. "Baby, Jack here can't afford you. Not to mention he can't do nothin' to take care of you. Why don't you just come along with me? Bobby knows how to make his women beg for more." The speaker was in his thirties, a big strapping man. He reached toward Max but she stepped back.
"I came to see Jack." Max repeated.
Just then one of the men from another table, pushed by the dares of his friends, came up behind Max and dropped his arms around her. Before anyone knew what had happened, Max neatly flipped him over her head and he was lying flat on the floor while Max looked on in disgust.
"Goddamn bitch," he roared coming to his feet and charging at Max. She stepped aside and then gave him a shove, using his own momentum to send him crashing into another table. But by this time his friends had jumped up and three more men charged at Max. Max was a blur of motion, spinning and chopping. She took out several with sweeping kicks and two more with hard blows to their stomachs. But for each one she took out it seemed that three more took their place. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Jack slinking toward a back entrance. She spun to head him off and didn't notice the brute who brought a broken chair leg down on her head, until it was too late. Caught off balance she staggered and two more men wrapped their arms around her, lifting her off the floor so she couldn't get any leverage from her feet.
"Now we got her. Damn little spitfire," said the one who had been at Jack's table. "Joe, throw us over those cuffs you got under the bar. We're gonna take care of this little bitch but good."
One of the men caught the handcuffs that Joe tossed his way and within moments, Max, still slightly dizzy from the blow to her head, found her hands cuffed tightly behind her back.
"Now I'm gonna have me a piece of this," growled Max's first assailant. "Hold her down."
"Damn she's strong," cursed one of them as four men struggled to bring Max down to the floor. Using sheer weight they managed to hold her down as the others crowded around her. Max thought hard as she gathered her strength, knowing she was only going to have one chance to throw them off of her.
"One of you come over here and unzip those jeans of hers. You four keep a tight hold on her." Bobby directed.
Another huge man knelt down next to Max and reached out to her. Before he touched her jeans he pulled down the zipper of her jacket and pushed it open revealing the tight T-shirt she wore under it.
"Whooeeee, I'm gonna get me a taste of those knockers" whistled someone. "Hurry it up boys, we all waitin' our turn."
Max spat in the man's face as he reached down for the zipper of her jeans. Without hesitation he casually backhanded her with a huge fist. He reached for the zipper of her pants as Max focused her concentration, waiting for exactly the right moment.
BANG
The sound of a single gunshot reverberated in the bar. Max turned her head to see the crowd falling back.
"Let her up and back off."
Logan stood calmly in the middle of the room. He held his gun at the ready. The man next to Max jumped up and quickly backed away.
"The rest of you let her go. Now."
Max had never seen this Logan before. The look in his eyes was cold and deadly. Slowly, the men holding Max down, rose and backed away from her.
Bobby started to walk toward Logan who calmly fired another shot that hit him in the foot. He fell to the floor with a scream.
"Max. Come over here." Logan directed. Max was on her feet and at his side in seconds, careful to stay out of the way of his gun. Logan reached over with his free hand and unlocked her handcuffs with the key he had gotten from the bartender before the rest of the bar had realized he was there. Freed, Max quickly gave Logan a nod.
"Let's blaze, our quarry cut out the back about five minutes ago," she said.
Logan nodded and the two quickly exited the bar. Outside, Logan grabbed Max's arm and pulled her toward his car which was parked across the street. "Let's get out of here before they decide to come after us in force."
Max didn't argue and in moments they were in the car and a block away. Logan pulled over and took a deep breath, staring straight ahead.
"I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life…" Max began.
"What in hell were you thinking, of going into a place like that without backup?" Logan turned and said to her, his eyes blazing with anger.
"I've been in worse places and come out okay." Max retorted, stung by his tone.
"Oh yeah? Well you sure didn't look very okay to me. Unless you call getting gang raped okay."
Max glared at Logan, unable to come up with a response. For long moments the two stared at each other as the atmosphere in the car thickened with their emotions. Logan swore under his breath and before Max realized his intent, his arms were around her and his lips were on hers. He kissed her hard and punishingly and when he pulled away, Max could feel the swelling already beginning on her lips.
"And that was?" she snapped at him.
"Don't ever scare me like that again." Logan snapped back.
"I thought you didn't care."
"Goddamn it, Max, right now I just want to wring your neck. But we have to find that box. Where did your guy head?" Logan pulled them away from the treacherous currents swirling in the car and back to the immediate task.
"Make a left and then a right. My guess is we'll pick him up on his way home if we're lucky." Max directed him, following his lead.
"We're gonna finish this later, Max." Logan warned. "Once we get the damn box safely put away I have things to say to you."
"I have things to say to you as well. And this time you're gonna listen if I have to tie you down." Max responded.
"Fine."
"Fine."
There was silence in the car as Logan slowly cruised along and Max looked for their quarry.
"Logan, slow down. There he is half a block in front of us."
Logan slowed the car and the two slowly trailed along after Jack who appeared to be oblivious of their presence. He ambled along for another half block and then stumbled up the steps of a crumbling building that appeared to be an apartment house. Logan pulled the car to a stop across the street and the two waited quietly as Jack reached the top of the steps and fumbled in his pocket for a key. Suddenly he turned and looked directly at the dark car. Logan reached over and pulled Max to him.
"We're a couple making out. What's he doing?" he whispered against her lips.
Max watched Jack over his shoulder. "Still looking, okay he's turning, he's trying to open the door, he's got it open. He's in." She pulled away from Logan and had her door open. By the time Logan opened his, Max was at the top of the steps working at the entrance door to the building. When he reached the top she had it open. The two slipped quietly into the building. A stairway stretched upward in front of them and they could hear footsteps slowly going up it.
Max signaled to Logan to follow her quietly, and then she was gone, up the stairs in a flash, moving with a feline grace and silence. Logan followed cautiously, taking care not to make any noise. When he reached the fourth floor landing, Max was waiting. She motioned to him to follow her once again as she moved into position outside of a door. Logan flattened himself against the wall next to the door and nodded to her.
With one kick Max had the door open. Before Logan could step around she screamed "NO. DON'T OPEN THAT!"
End of Chapter Nine