CHAPTER THREE

Somewhere in the bowels of Manticore

"Retinal scan confirmed," said the automated voice as it finished scanning the brown eye. Quietly, almost cat-like, the man passed through the double doors into the lab. Luckily no one was in here. He had always been lucky. No colds, no viruses, no broken bones. If he didn't know better, he would swear he was Manticore issue. Victor chuckled lightly to himself at that thought, as he made his way across the room to Big Bertha, the main computer in the lab.

His fingers flew effortlessly over the keyboard as he accessed the main system and rerouted his transmission to throw off any would-be watchers. He thanked god for blessing him with innate hacking abilities. After covering his tracks, Victor accessed the Manticore's main email account—used for sending out flyers and revenue generating items. Finally this thing will be put to good use, he thought. He typed in the address Max had given him, and after typing in the message to Eyes Only he added a segment of his own.

"Mr. Galindez? Are you in here?" came a muffled a question from across the room.

"Yeah Pete, just finishing up a blood analysis," Victor told the aging security guard as he pushed the send button. Hurry up, hurry up, he inwardly yelled at the computer screen. He could hear Pete shuffling across the room; he was always interested in whatever Victor was working on. He didn't know whether to be worried or touched over the man's protective spirit.

The screen in front of Victor finally changed and told him that his message had been sent. He barely had enough time to close the window and open up a blood analysis he had been working on earlier before Pete made it to the computer.

Max's Room

After Victor left, Max laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She had already counted all the rivets—1,216. I can't believe that I'm back in this place, she thought. After ten years of freedom, you would think I would be smart enough not to get caught. But how was I supposed to know that my clone would be there waiting for me. Oh shit. Fuck. I forgot about her—them. I need to get all of these kids outta here—I don't want to them to grow up like I did. See what you've turned me into Logan? I care now. I want to save the world. I guess it is lucky that we hooked up. I hope Victor can get that note to you, without it being traced. Mmmm, I think that drug Victor gave me is starting to take effect, she thought as she stifled a yawn. Time to catch up on some sleep before I undergo 'reprogramming' in the morning.

Fogle Towers

In Seattle, Logan had finally fallen succumbed to sleep. After hours of searching the informant net and countless other sites looking for a breadcrumb to lead him to Max, the tired man had fallen asleep in front of the computer.

"Logan," Max whispered as she stepped onto the dance floor.

"Is this your dream or mine?" he questioned.

"Does it really matter?"

"Not to me," he said as he began walking towards her. She had on the dress from Bennet and Marianne's wedding. She always takes my breath away.

"Me either," she said mimicking is actions. He was looking yummy in his tuxedo; the boy never fails to floor me.

"Tell me now," he said softly as he enveloped her in his arms.

Briefly her mind flashed back to the last time she saw him. There's something I've got to tell you. I should've said something a long time ago. "Thought you said it could wait," she said smiling mischievously. Taking a deep breath she continued, "I love you Logan Cale," she whispered into his ear.

Carefully, as if she might disappear, he tightened his embrace. There were tears in his eyes as he replied, "I love you, too."

"Dance with me, Logan."

"Always and forever. I don't want to wake up."

"But you have to Logan."

"No, I want to stay here with you, if only in my dreams."

"But Logan, you have mail." Max said as she pulled back from him.

"What?"

"You have mail," the electronic voice repeated, rousing Logan from his dream. He clicked on the flashing icon and the message unfolded.

From: Public Relations

To: Lane Clogae

Subject: Bast

Cats really do have nine lives. Genetics are the topic of discussion on Saturday night. I love you.

PS—I can never repay you for what you did for me. You got my girl to safety, and I'll get your girl back to you.

For the first time in months, Logan smiled an actual smile. Max was alive, and Victor was going to help get her out. But what about Zack?