Steel Trap
Chapter 11
Logan, his brain foggy from too many single malts, realized that unless he could talk his way out of it, he was going to get his ass handed to him. He looked up at Lemkin's goon and with the appearance of more courage than he could muster, he said, "Tell Mr. Lemkin to call me and make an appointment. It's a bit late for business conferences." Logan's tongue felt fuzzy, like his brain. He attempted to wheel past the goon.
But the goon planted his feet and put a hand out to stop Logan. "I'm afraid you don't understand. Mr. Lemkin wants to see you now."
"Ah, I see." Logan was deliberately dense.
The goon attempted to take control of Logan's wheelchair, but since it had no handles, he wasn't sure what to do. So he put his hands on the back of Logan's chair and roughly pushed him toward the limousine.
As Logan was being taken to Lemkin, he looked around the garage – for what, he wasn't sure – maybe an escape route, anything to get him out of his predicament. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed what looked like Max's Ninja parked near his Aztek. He shook his head to clear it, figuring that he was hallucinating, or suffering the effects of too much Glenmorangie. But no, there it was. Max was around somewhere, then, but where? I sure could use her talents now, he thought.
The goon, being preoccupied with pushing him, didn't notice Logan surreptitiously reach into his pocket and turn on his cell phone. He punched the speed dial code for Max and hoped she'd pick up before the goon heard it ringing.
Logan gritted his teeth as the cell phone dialed and rang once. Sure enough, Max picked up quickly. "Logan? Where are you?"
Logan knew he couldn't risk actually pulling out the phone and talking to Max, so he improvised. In a loud voice, he said to Lemkin's goon, "So, is Mr. Lemkin in the habit of meeting business contacts in garages late at night?"
The goon cuffed him on the side of the head. "Shut up!"
"Ow!" Logan yelped. Okay, maybe the guy would think he was a wuss, but he wanted Max to hear him. He hoped she'd figure out what was going on.
In too short a time, they were at the limo. The rear window rolled down, slowly revealing an unsmiling Pierpont Lemkin. Next to him sat Lux, and next to her, British Eddie. Another no-neck goon occupied the driver's seat.
Max, where are you? Logan thought. Aloud, he said, "Lemkin. What can I do for you?"
Lemkin turned toward Lux and Eddie. Lux leaned forward, and Logan was sure that she winked at him. But Eddie whined, "That's him. That's the bloke."
Lemkin turned back to face Logan. "My trusted employee here says you're the one who stole my files and leaked them to Eyes Only." Lemkin's eyes glittered, like those of a feral creature ready to pounce.
"Your trusted employee is mistaken. How could I steal your files?" Logan touched his wheel rims. "Eddie, I thought we had already settled this."
"Apparently not," Lemkin commented tersely. At a nod of his head, the goon in the driver's seat got out of the limo and walked around the car to join his companion, standing behind Logan.
Lemkin stepped out of the limo. Logan wondered again where Max was, knowing that unless she showed up quickly, he was toast.
Just then, all hell broke loose as a whirlwind in black leather flew at the goons behind Logan. Max knocked them to the ground. Logan quickly wheeled out of the way, but was stopped in his flight by Lemkin, who stepped in front of him. Lemkin had a gun in his hand and it was aimed directly at Logan's head.
As Max kicked one of the goons who tried to get up, Logan lunged at Lemkin, hitting him at knee level, and knocking him down. The gun flew out of Lemkin's hand, but it was still within grabbing distance. Logan, now on the ground on top of Lemkin, pulled his arm back and delivered a vicious punch to the latter's jaw. Lemkin groaned and tried to throw Logan off. They both spotted the gun and rolled toward it.
"Max!" Logan yelled, unable to see what she was doing.
"I'm busy, Logan!" Max yelled back, delivering yet another head shot to one of the goons, who just would not lie down.
Lemkin and Logan, still locked in combat, were now next to the gun. Lemkin reached for it, but was thwarted by Max, who took time off from beating on the goons to kick it away from him. It slid under the limo. Max turned around just in time to take a nasty hit in the stomach that doubled her over momentarily. She recovered and kicked the goon in the head. He went down like a ton of bricks. The other one was trying to get up, shaking his head to clear it.
"Dammit, will you stay down?!" Max said, as she kicked him in the nose. He fell back, bleeding profusely. Hoping the two goons were down for the count, Max turned around to look for Logan.
There was the sound of a motor revving. Eddie had climbed into the driver's seat of the limo, and was backing it out of the garage. He turned it around and took off, tires and Lux, still in the back seat, squealing.
Logan, momentarily distracted by the departing limo, took his eyes off Lemkin, and was rewarded by a blow to the side of his head that sent his glasses flying. Lemkin finally disentangled himself from Logan's grip and got up. He ran for the gun, left uncovered by the departure of the limo. Max saw him take off and jumped at him, landing with both feet on his shoulder blades. He landed face first on the concrete floor, out cold.
Logan pulled himself up to a sitting position, leaning against a concrete column. "What took you so long?" he asked, grinning.
"Lousy cell phone connection in the elevator," Max replied in a cheeky tone of voice. "You okay?" She resisted the urge to help him up, settling on retrieving the wheelchair and carefully placing it next to him. He locked the brakes and painfully climbed into it. Setting his feet on the footrest, he leaned back. "That's better."
Max bent over and picked up his glasses. "I'm afraid they're broken, Logan," she said as she placed them in his lap, her gloved hand shaking.
"Better them than me," Logan said, shrugging his shoulders. He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket. Satisfied that it hadn't been broken in his struggle with Lemkin, he hit a speed dial number.
"Hey, Matt, sorry to wake you. I've got Lemkin and a couple of his goons laid out here in my garage. Can you send a wagon around to pick them up? They attacked me as I was on my way home from a party." Logan looked around to make sure the three were still unconscious. "Thanks." He turned to Max. "Matt said a police wagon will be here shortly."
"That's good. I was worried that I'd have to keep hitting them to make sure they stayed down." Max smiled. "So, do I want to know what went on here tonight?"
"It's a long story..." Logan began.
"I'll bet it is. Want to tell me about it?"
"Not right now. I'm very tired – it's been a very long day. But come by tonight about 6 pm and I'll cook you dinner and tell you all about it."
"You're on. I want to hear all about this."
They waited for the police to arrive. Logan, Lemkin's gun in his hand, guarded the unconscious mogul, while Max made sure that the goons stayed down. Nearly thirty minutes after Logan had phoned Matt Sung, two squad cars pulled into the garage. The police handcuffed two groggy bodyguards and a protesting Lemkin, who kept declaring that it was all a "misunderstanding." Once Lemkin was safely ensconced in the squad car, Logan turned over the gun to the cops.
"Here, you'll need this," he said as he turned it over to one of the officers. "He tried to shoot me. And you might want to pick up a thug named British Eddie, who's driving Mr. Lemkin's car right about now."
The cops drove off, leaving Logan and Max alone in the garage.
"So, catch you later?" Max said, looking at Logan, who visibly sagged in the chair.
"Yeah, dinner, then you can tell me all about Zack and I'll tell you about my week," Logan replied, a tired smile on his face. "Right now, I've gotta get some sleep. Thanks, Max. Your timing was perfect."
"Glad I could help. I'll see you at six then?"
"Yeah. 'Night."
Logan watched Max walk away and get on her motorcycle. As he turned his chair around and headed toward the elevator, he heard the 'vroom' of the engine and the squeal of her tires. He paused and turned back to watch her leave.
Once back in the penthouse, he undressed, rolled into the bathroom for his nightly ritual, and, suddenly exhausted, transferred onto the bed. He barely had time to lie down and pull the covers over himself before he was asleep.
Logan awoke the next morning to the telephone ringing. Groggily, he reached for his glasses, then realized he'd broken them the previous night. He grabbed the phone and rummaged in the night stand drawer for his other glasses.
"Hello?" he said.
Sebastian's mechanical voice answered. "Logan, I've got good news. The exoskeleton should be repaired by this evening. You can come by and pick it up any time after 9 pm."
"Great. Thanks." He squinted at the clock and decided it was time to get out of bed. He had promised Max dinner and he had to get started.
What had started as a quick trip to the market turned into a time-consuming pain as Logan found various streets blocked off by police cordons and sector cops with attitude. He drove around for about thirty minutes trying to find a parking space, at last resigning himself to using the handicapped hangtag he kept in the glove box.
He slid into the parking space and transferred into the chair. He approached one of the barricades, hoping to get into his favorite part of the market, do his shopping, and get out quickly. But the cop prevented him from entering the area.
"What's going on, officer?" he asked.
'We're conducting a search of some buildings around here. Part of an ongoing investigation," the cop said, indicating with his weapon that Logan should move aside.
"What investigation, officer?" Logan asked.
"Did you see that Eyes Only hack yesterday? The one about the organ smuggling ring?"
"Um, yes, I did."
"Well, it's part of that." The cop looked around. "We should be done here in a few minutes."
Logan waited impatiently, tapping his fingers on his thigh. Every so often, he looked at his watch. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, he was waved through. Once quit of the police barricade, he hurriedly shopped, picking up fresh green vegetables, potatoes, and a chicken for dinner. On impulse, he bought a small bouquet of autumn flowers. Then he hastily left the market to head home and prepare dinner for Max.
Several hours later, the chicken was in the oven, roasting along with the potatoes. Logan intended to steam the vegetables at the last minute, just before dinner. Without the exoskeleton, he couldn't reach the cabinet that contained Max's special dishes and silverware, so the table wasn't quite set. However, he had arranged the bouquet of asters and chrysanthemums in an attractive vase and placed it in the center of the table.
Looking at his watch, Logan noted that it was nearly five. He decided to change into a sweater and dress pants for Max's visit. He had missed her more than he wanted to admit, and he wanted to show her that he had missed her. After checking on the chicken, he headed into the bedroom to change.
Naturally, just as he finished pulling the sweater over his head, the doorbell rang. Hastily, he adjusted it and wheeled to answer the door. As he opened it, he smiled broadly.
Max stood at the door, dressed in black leather, as usual.
"Hey," she said with a smile.
"Hey yourself," Logan replied. "Come on in." He rolled back to let her in. "How's Zack?"
"Other than the fact that he has no clue as to who he is, he's fine," Max answered sadly, but she entered the apartment with deliberation. "Mmm, something sure smells good."
"Dinner's almost ready," Logan explained, following her into the living room. "I was waiting for you to show up so I could put on the vegetables." He wheeled into the kitchen and took them from the refrigerator.
Max looked at the dining room table. "Nice flowers. You eating alone?"
Logan blushed. "Ah, I couldn't reach your dishes..."
"Oh, right. It's still on the fritz?" Max inquired as she headed for the kitchen. She reached up and opened a cabinet and got out her set of dishes and silverware, then placed them on the dining room table. "There. All set." Then she sat down a safe distance away, watching as he peeled, sliced, and steamed.
"Great." Logan grinned. "Sebastian called today. It's fixed. I have to pick it up after nine tonight. So I'll be back on my feet tomorrow."
"Good. I was hoping that Zack hadn't permanently killed it."
"No, that was me he was trying to permanently kill." As soon as Logan said that, he bit his tongue. Max scowled at him. "Sorry. That wasn't funny," he apologized.
"So, how was your week?" Max asked.
"Slow. I did some modified workouts and worked on some Eyes Only stuff."
"Like any of that's news," she commented sarcastically.
The timer went off, indicating that the chicken was done. Logan took the pan out of the oven and placed the roast chicken and potatoes on a serving platter. He emptied the vegetables from the steamer into a large bowl. Then he placed the platter and bowl on a tray on his lap and took the food to the table. Finally, he went back into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of white wine from the fridge.
Max sat down opposite him and practically licked her chops in anticipation. "Looks and smells wonderful, of course. I missed your cooking," Max admitted.
"Glad to hear that. Always nice to be appreciated," Logan said as he carved the chicken.
"Not a lot of good restaurants out there in the heartland," she responded. "Not much news either."
"Oh?" Logan served Max, then prepared a plate for himself. "Where did you stay?"
"Here and there. No television, though. I feel like I've been living in a vacuum. Mind if I turn on your TV?"
"Not at all. Let me – Just in case." Logan switched on the small TV set on top of the wine rack and tuned it to a news channel.
Max hung her head. "I hate this virus. I hate it more than anything in the world," she said softly.
"I do too, Max. I hate it even more than I hate being in this chair. But we'll beat it. I swear we will."
"I know, Logan, but I still hate it."
"Eat your dinner, Max. You're here and I'm here. And we're both okay."
They resumed their meal while the TV news droned on. Logan looked up quickly when he heard a news flash.
This just in. Police have begun an investigation of the organ-smuggling ring uncovered by the underground cyber-journalist, Eyes Only. Several arrests have already been made, including a pair of Steelheads purported to be the middlemen. Police seized records and computers at a mortuary in Sector Four today as part of the investigation. Reports indicate that the investigation may reach into the highest levels of Seattle society. Stay tuned to this station for more developments.
Max cocked an eye at Logan. "Slow week, huh?" She smiled. "Must have been an interesting Eyes Only hack you came up with this time."
Logan smiled back. "Yeah, it was."
"That's great. I knew you'd get Lemkin eventually. Now, tell me all about it...."
THE END