Disclaimer: I think I've disclaimed enough.

Author's Note: I made the Governor of California a transgenic, heh heh. You'll see what I mean later in this chapter. I also ripped a line from the Matrix. I mean, how can you not see the resemblance between White and Agent Smith?

This chapter is longer than my usual chapters, but I really enjoyed writing it for some reason.

The Gift of Daylight

Chapter 3: Fate is a Tangle

"Fate is a tangle. We can only follow a thread."

Location: Undisclosed location, somewhere outside of Seattle.
Time: 3:15 PM PST

"Why are we stopping? We can't be here yet."

"We're not, Zack," Reeve replied, as he pulled the truck smoothly into the parking lot of what looked like an abandoned psychiatric ward. "This is one of the Conclave's headquarters," he motioned to the building.

Zack glanced wearily at it.

"All right, so it's not exactly the Four Seasons. We have 452 to thank for that, she drove us and our children from our former location, the Brookridge Academy," Reeve said bitterly. "It was a nice place too, had air conditioning for one … but, um, that's not the point. The point is, in 5 minutes, you have a meeting with the Priestess."

"The Priestess? What does she want?" Zack asked slowly.

"Sex."

White was chattering away on his cell phone to some familiar, but had heard that. He slapped Reeve on the back of the head.

"Okay okay," Reeve straightened up, "To talk, what else would we bring you here for? Look around the place a little bit, meet the people, and let her explain the entire situation in better detail. But don't take too long because we're on a time crunch, got it?"

"Um … are you sure about this?" Zack started to open the door and exit.

"Positive." Reeve waved to the guard standing at the door. "There you go, just tell him you're here to see the Priestess, and he'll take you up to her office. See you in, say, an hour? Whitey and I are getting another car for our trip to Seattle."

"Right …" Zack replied, "in an hour, yeah." He got out of the car and went up the steps to talk to the guard. Before long, the both of them had disappeared from sight.

Reeve shifted the truck into gear and drove towards the large parking lot in the rear. "I bet you by the time he comes out, he'll be on our side without a doubt. No one's more convincing than the Priestess," Reeve declared as he killed the engine and got out of the truck. "Hey, hey, are you listening to me?" he walked around the back and snapped his fingers in White's face. "Let's go, the towncar's over there."

White swatted Reeve's hand away and continued speaking animatedly to the person on the other side. "Yeah, mhm, right, yeah. Okay, I got it. Excellent work, my friend. The Conclave is very grateful of your service. What? Oh, don't worry about it, the rest of your team is on its way. In fact, we found you a squad leader … yeah, okay. Until then. Fe'nos tol." White flipped the cell phone shut and got out of the truck.

"Who was that …?" Reeve peered curiously at White as the two of them walked past a long line of cars.

"Judas," White replied vaguely.

"Right. You know, you need to work on answering questions more directly," he replied. "Is it this one?" Reeve slapped the hood of a black Lincoln town car.

"Yeah, it is. Here, warm it up," he tossed the keys towards Reeve and walked around to the trunk of the car.

"This, looks like a bad guy's car," Reeve snatched the keys out of the air and clicked the button to unlock the door. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Changing. I'm not riding into Seattle looking like this," he removed a black duffle bag from the back and unzipped it.

"I happen to like them, they're comfortable," Reeve replied, getting into the driver's seat and starting the engine.

"Fine, you wear whatever you want."

Reeve clicked on the stereo and tested out some of the switches in the car. Eventually, White entered the passenger seat dressed in his usual black suit and gray trench coat. "And you, look like a bad guy," Reeve commented.

"Oh, I'm not so bad once you get to know me," White said with a smirk, removing a pair of dark sunglasses out of his coat pocket and slipping them on. He switched on the AC and leaned back against his seat.

"What squad is Zack going to lead, anyway?" Reeve finally asked. It was a question that had plagued him since the beginning of the mission.

"The Elements," White replied automatically.

"The Elements, really? Wow!" Reeve's eyes widened. "I've heard a lot about them, 'the cream of the crop', 'tip of the spear'—"

"Tip of the sword," White corrected him.

"Right, 'tip of the spear' belongs to the Phalanx," he quipped, "which you landed in jail…"

"For the last time, that wasn't my faul—"

"Man, I wish I was born into that breeding line," Reeve continued dreamily. "First rate, top notch—"

"—And an utter failure without a tactical leader," White finished firmly for him. "They can fight, we know that, but I wouldn't trust any one of them on a mission alone. They think like children, act on impulse."

"But they can fight," Reeve finished for him. "You think we'll get to see them in action?"

"Who knows? But they're coming with us. They're already in Seattle, we're to contact them when we arrive in the city, and rendezvous at the Harbor. Pier 6, I think. Then we have 48 hours to draw up a plan and redeploy. We're on a tight schedule." White jabbed a button to roll the window down, he peered outside and looked around. "What's taking him so long?"

"Hey, it's only been 30 minutes, give him time." Reeve pulled the car out of the parking spot and drove to the front of the building where Zack had entered, and would undoubtedly exit from. "What I don't understand is, why the hell we're going to all this trouble to kill 452, when it looks like the U.S. government will do it for us."

"Why do you think? McKinley and a few others have informed the Conclave that … Congress is drawing up a Bill to allow limited rights to the transgenics. They're not planning to kill anyone at all."

"No way," Reeve replied incredulously. "They hate transgenics."

"Not enough to approve a wholesale slaughter. What's more, you know that Governor from California? Turns out he's one of them too. A few other important figures are speaking out against these hate crimes too. We've caught wind that activists are now protesting against segregation," White explained heatedly. "The crime lords are seeing this as an opportunity to recruit superhuman muscle into their organizations. And you know how much influence they have on the government."

"I … I didn't know it was that serious," Reeve replied dejectedly. "It's not that bad though, Ames. I mean, we can just try live together in peace now. No need for the Coming, mass death and genocide, and all that, right?"

White moved so quickly that by the time Reeve blinked, he found himself jerked forward and staring into two very angry eyes. "Don't talk that way around me," White warned. "Our highest priority is 452's death, it's the will of the Conclave," he said venomously. "Is that understood?"

Reeve opened his mouth to say something, but paused halfway and nodded instead.

"Good," White released his collar and let him settle back in his seat. "That barricade's on its way out. We need to strike now, while we have 452 cornered," White clarified.

Reeve had fallen silent for the rest of the wait, that is, until Zack exited the building. The X5 had apparently changed too, into baggy black military pants, a black shirt, and a leather jacket. The clothes weren't what Reeve noticed most, it was the determined look in Zack's eyes.

"So how'd it go?" Reeve asked, as Zack settled in the back seat and the car pulled out into the main road.

"Let's get 452," he replied coarsely.

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Location: Terminal City, Washington. Warehouse 7
Time: 3:15 PM PST

"Food rationing will carry on as usual. Food distribution now begins at 0600, every other day, at the front and back entrances of V. Bring your own boxes, we don't exactly have a stock load of them. All salvageable materials are to be recycled by being returned to III. Since X5's and above can go a reasonable amount of days without food, adult X's above the age of 18 will have their portions cut by 15%—" the young man paused, as if waiting for something.

A lot of people groaned.

He then continued coolly, "—for conservation purposes, effective immediately." He shifted through his papers. "Next," he announced sturdily. "Due to the aforementioned cuts in food portions for X5's and above, Nomalies will be assigned doubled hours of sentinel duty—" he paused once again, waiting patiently.

This time, the other half of the crowd groaned noisily.

And once again, the young man continued indifferently, "—in response to the heightened threat level to Terminal City. There will be six sentinels to every entrance, and we're upping the number to twelve at the main entrance." Pause. "Next. Warehouse two has been vacated for the sole purpose of use as a gym. Should anyone need to use it for practicing purposes, we've built a makeshift training facility in there. But people— just a reminder, please don't break anything. And don't seriously wound one another, that's going to create a huge pain in the ass for the medics."

He paused one final time to turn and look behind his shoulder. "And finally, a few words from our esteemed leader," the boy straightened his papers on the counter and stepped aside to let Max through.

"It's all yours, chief," he declared with a grin.

"Esteemed leader?" Max questioned with a quirk of her brow.

"Well, I wanted to try something new," he commented with a shrug.

"Good job, Zeke," she smiled and advanced forward, but not before ruffling his hair.

"No problem, Max," the weary transgenic boy replied. He was obviously taller than Max, his height bordered on 6'2." Zeke was also much younger, give or take five years, with a smooth baby face and dark hazel eyes. His short black hair, which was worn very untamed, became more messed up when she ruffled it. But he didn't seem to mind. "If only VII was bigger, we wouldn't need to have the same meeting eight separate times in a row so that everyone can hear everything. You know I hate repeating myself," he said.

"Yeah, I hear ya. But we're just about done, I'll take it from here," she stated.

Zeke moved to the back and out of the way. He joined a standing Logan, OC, a very bored looking Alec, and a sleeping Sketchy.

Max stepped forward effortlessly and peered down at the wave of faces, which were anxiously waiting for her to speak. Each of those faces were unique, some were human looking, and some weren't. Some were blue, and some were green. Regardless of their appearances, one truth was lucid—they were all in this together and whether they liked it or not, they were stuck as one huge, dysfunctional, genetically engineered family.

This would be the eighth and final time today her little speech would be recited, but it was necessary everytime.

"Listen up people," she announced loudly, to silent down the side conversations. Her voice projected perfectly inside the heavily crowded warehouse. "I know things are rough right now," there was a murmur of agreement in the crowd. "Hell, I haven't slept since … well, who knows when. But I want to say that I appreciate everyone's patience. If we're going to get through this, we need to stick together. We need everybody's cooperation and help. I'm still working on the negotiations, but as you're most likely aware, things are really complicated at the moment. It just takes some time." She paused, wasn't there something else she had to say? Oh yeah. "I have no doubt in my mind that we'll get through this. Stay strong everyone," she concluded with assurance.

The transgenic crowd seemed to brighten up as a whole to these words. Fatigued, but now with a replenished sense of hope, they leisurely made their way out of the warehouse and dispersed. Before long, a previously crammed warehouse 7 gradually drained of people, and only a handful remained.

"Are we done yet?" a drowsy voice asked from the back. Sketchy glanced around the place with sleep still heavy in his eyes. "Good job, Max. Yeah, way to go," he clapped and yawned loudly, opting to settle back in his warm chair.

Original Cindy raised a brow at him. "Not like you were awake to hear anything," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Come on, let's go check up on Normal. I wouldn't trust him with a little baby girl," she yanked Sketchy up by the collar.

Max broke off her conversation with Alec to nod at OC and Sketchy. "I need to talk to you two later, and Normal too. Don't wander too far away."

"Mos def. We'll catch you later, Boo," OC replied.

Sketchy waved. "Later, Max. Ow, hey hey hey, watch it. I bruise easily," he muttered to an unconcerned looking OC as they both exited.

Max then looked back at Alec, who had plastered a grin on his face, as usual.

"As I was saying— touching speech, Max," he continued. "It sort of lost its effect after the umpteenth time though."

"Shut up," she replied with a scoff, looking over Alec's shoulder to see an approaching Logan.

"This isn't still about the cake, is it? Is chocolate really that bad?" Alec asked sardonically.

"No, it's not about the cake. But thanks for reminding me of another reason to be annoyed at you." She paused. "And I'm more of a vanilla girl anyway," she replied easily.

"I'll keep that in mind. Need to get back to II, there's an arm wrestling wager the guys and I are starting up. I don't want to miss it. Loser does extra sentinel duty. Well, I'll be around," he gave her a mock salute and nodded to Logan. "Later." Alec headed out.

"There goes our favorite rogue X5," Logan spoke up from behind her.

"Oh yeah, charming. One day I'd like to punch that grin off his face," she retorted sourly. She turned around to face him after adjusting her leather gloves. If it was possible, he looked more disheveled than her— and that clearly troubled her. "Looking a little tired there. Why don't you go take a few hours off? This mess will still be here when you wake up, right?" she offered.

"Well, I snuck in a few hours in between the meetings," he stated with a grin. "I'll be fine."

She matched his grin with one of hers. "How's it looking out there?"

Logan impulsively reached up to adjust his glasses, but realized at the very last minute that he was wearing his new contacts. He forked a hand through his hair instead. "Well, Clemente's kept his word so far, we know that. The military hasn't advanced at all, but they're being strangely accommodating to our requests. From what I—we—know of the military, they're usually not as cooperative in situations like this. Or, any situation for that matter …"

"You think they're up to something?" Max continued, not liking where this was going.

"With all of America watching, my guess is that the military's trying to dangle their kindheartedness in front everyone's eyes. So that when they do decide to make a move, it'll seem like they've exercised all their options."

He paused to analyze the frown that had suddenly appeared on her face.

"So, either way, we're the bad guys and the losers," she finished for him.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that. I'm sure the government wouldn't strike without provocation."

"It hasn't stopped them from doing what they've done before," she countered.

"That was due to one very corrupt agency. Whether anyone wants to admit it or not, the government's responsible for every single transgenic life in Terminal City. This is their doing. They know it, and I think that fact's slowly dawning on everyone else too," he assured her tiredly, catching an escaping yawn with a white gloved fist. Logan had gotten accustomed to wearing his white latex gloves, it was necessary to avoid a catastrophe.

"Always the optimist," she said with a feeble grin. Even with his words, the anxiety and stress still plagued her.

"Well, you know me," he replied nonchalantly. His outstretched hand settled comfortingly on her shoulder. "Hey … it'll be okay. Trust me. Everyone listens and looks up to you, and you haven't let them down yet."

She finally eased up and smiled. "Yeah, I guess so," she replied, releasing a heavy sigh. "Well, I better go check up on everyone," she stated awkwardly. "I need to continue coaxing OC and Sketchy to leave Terminal City. With things getting so tense, it's likely they'll get caught in the crossfire." She paused. "If there is any, that is."

"Right," he replied distractedly, removing his hand from her shoulder. "There's one last thing, Max," he said, before she left.

"Hm?" she looked at him.

"Word on the informant net is that Congress is constructing some bill involving the transgenics. They're keeping it very quiet, but I'll look into it."

"Probably the official note to make transgenic head hunting legal," she replied cynically.

"Either way, I'll see what I can find. I should go back to work, still got a lot of tinkering to do. Eyes Only is still a long way from being up and running again."

"Good luck with that, I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you," Logan watched her retreating figure for a second, and then eventually tore his gaze away when his cell phone beeped. "Finally, reception," he mumbled, a bit surprised. The radiation in Terminal City had interfered with all outgoing and incoming calls, making outside communication either impossible or very difficult. Either that, or Logan had a really bad phone provider. Flipping his phone open with his uncontaminated hand, he dialed his voice mail and waited patiently. While waiting, he decided to revisit his desk, where an open can of murky, white liquid sat. He pinned the cell phone between his cheek and shoulder and quickly cleaned both his gloved hands in the Clorox, then wiped them dry on a nearby towel. It was standard procedure nowadays.

Logan entered his voice mail password and listened closely. "You have two new messages," the mechanical voice stated. "Message one." Beep.

"Long time no talk," a coarse voice said through the static. "All right, I'll make this short until we get a chance to talk. I'm alive. Anyway, I'm sure she doesn't need more chaos at the moment, so don't tell her about this. Tell a few people around her that White's on his way back to Seattle ... with Zack. Long story, I'll explain later. And if you're still wondering. Yeah, this really is Lydecker."

The message seemed to catch him off guard, and with good reason too. Logan hadn't heard from Lydecker in months. The police never found his body, only his waterlogged, bullet ridden, Durango sunk in the harbor. Logan fell into a heavy train of thought, which caused him to neglect the second message altogether. He clicked a button to replay it.

As it turns out, the second message was twice as alarming as the first.

Logan's head jerked back in shock. Were his ears deceiving him? The urgency of both messages struck him almost immediately. He had so many question for Lydecker. Questions, that, apparently, wouldn't be answered for a while. He didn't realize until it was too late that he had knocked over the can of Clorox off the desk. "Hey Luke, help clean this spill up? I need to find Max," he stated hastily. Without waiting for a response, he ran outside the warehouse and started in the direction Max had gone. Then he recalled what Lydecker had said: so don't tell her about this. Tell a few people around her. Taking those into complete consideration, Logan turned right around and went towards the opposite direction—towards warehouse 2.

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Location: Terminal City, Washington. Warehouse 2; the "recreational" room.
Time: 3:35 PM PST

When he arrived, he saw Joshua and Mole sitting with a group of Nomalies around a table. They were conversing loudly about something undoubtedly dull. Alec was at the other corner of the warehouse, predictably flirting with a blonde girl. Zeke was busy arm-wrestling Dalton, both X6's had drawn quite a crowd. Everyone else seemed to be occupied with his or her own business, it came to no shock that Logan didn't get so much as a nod when he entered.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a unique creature unlike any other?" Alec was obviously talking to the beautiful blonde X5. "So whenever you're feeling lonely, you can find me at warehouse…" Alec paused abruptly as Logan approached. The two men looked at each other. "Logan, buddy, can this wait?" Alec asked pleadingly. "I'm sort of busy," he nodded towards the woman.

"Sorry to interrupt," Logan said hurriedly, but there was no hint of an apology in his voice. "But we need to talk … now."

Alec examined Logan for a second, and then nodded. "Fine, fine. One second." He swiveled around to glance back at the gorgeous blonde that he had just been talking to. "I'll be at warehouse—" Alec paused halfway, and immediately realized he was now talking to air. It seemed that she had walked off. "… Well, that was polite," he stated, aggravated. "Can you believe the nerve of some women?" He then looked back to Logan. "This better be good."

Logan held up a finger to silence Alec, and then turned around to call a few more people over. "Hey big fella, come over here quick," he said to Joshua. He also motioned for Mole to come, as well as Dalton and Zeke once they finished wrenching each other's arms off. The small circle collected in the far corner of the warehouse, and all of them now staring curiously at Logan.

"Yeah, so what?" Mole asked impatiently, pulling his cigar out his mouth to blow out some smoke.

"Smoking's bad," Dalton commented.

Mole sent him a blistering glare.

"But … um, knowing you, you probably have more than two lungs," Dalton quickly alleviated.

Logan raised a brow, then started explaining, he was somewhat in a hurry to get to the significant things. "All right, once I'm done, we need to let Gem, Dix, Luke, in on this too. No more, no less," he stated sternly. "This needs to be kept under wraps, people." Logan paused and took out his cell phone.

"Ooh, top secret stuff," Mole was now very curious.

"It is, trust me. All right, this call came in a few hours ago. It's a message from … Lydecker," he explained. They all seemed to twitch angrily at the sound of that name. "Just listen."

Logan played the aforementioned message for the group. They listened keenly, but no one seemed to have an alarmed reaction aside from Logan. When it finished playing and Lydecker's voice had died down, Joshua released a low growl.

"Lydecker a bad bad man. Father never trusted him," Joshua remarked.

"He's changed," Logan stated, sounding more convinced than he actually felt. "But in any case, this is confirmation of extra trouble coming our way. I'm not sure what to do with the information, because if I did, I most likely wouldn't bother you guys with it. We also need to watch out for Max because—"

"—Um, hold up," Dalton piped up. "Maybe I'm slow … but who exactly is Zack?"

"Yeah, that's what I wanna know too," Mole chipped in.

Logan opened his mouth to explain— but Alec cut in.

"Well, once upon a time, there were twelve genetically engineered kids that escaped from a top secret, illegally funded, government facility—"

"—The short version," Mole interjected.

Alec paused. "All right, all right," and cleared his throat. "In a nutshell, he was one of the twelve who escaped. Lost his life, heart, and actually the rest of his insides during the Manticore infiltration or … something like that. Came back as a psycho Robocop with a jumbled memory, tried to kill Logan because … well, I can't tell you that. Max kicked his ass, he lost his memory again, and then …" Alec's voice trailed off, and he looked to Logan to finish the rest of the story. Alec didn't know the specifics after that.

"We gave him a new identity, relocated him to some place quieter and safer," Logan filled in the blank spots.

"But apparently not safe enough, since White has him," Alec tossed in.

"Well … yeah," Logan agreed begrudgingly.

"How close was Zack to Max?" Zeke asked, he hadn't said a thing in a while.

"Very close," Logan replied summarily. He thought back to his past encounters with Zack, few of them were pleasant. "The question is, what should I tell her? She's needed in Terminal City, and even though I doubt she could smash through the barricade and go storming off to save Zack, I know that this news will probably affect her concentration on other things."

"Well that's obvious. She needs to focus on Terminal City, of course, it's the here and now. Some X5 who got chopped up isn't any of our business," Mole stated gruffly.

"But it's her brother," Zeke argued, "she should at least know, then decide what to do for herself."

"He's not her brother anymore, weren't you listening, kid? His memory's wiped clean. For all we know, White's got Zack working for him now," Mole countered.

Logan seemed startled by this idea. Lydecker hadn't told him if White had turned Zack, or if that White was holding Zack captive. Great, way to make a complicated thing that much more complex.

"But he's her family," Zeke replied rebelliously. Normally quiet, the X6 was bizarrely putting up a fight at the moment. And what's more, it was with Mole— someone who many in Terminal City wouldn't bother quarrel with.

"Or what's left of him is," Joshua added clumsily, without thinking.

Alec choked back a snicker. Logan glared at him.

"I don't think we should tell her and stress her out more," Dalton chimed in mildly. "I mean, after this whole blockade thing gets resolved, she can do whatever she wants. But right now she has a responsibility to Terminal City and everyone here."

"This kid's got a good point, I say we don't tell Max," Mole tossed in his support for that idea.

"Joshua won't lie to little fella," Joshua stated tentatively, "but … Joshua won't say anything about brother Zack unless he's asked." In other words, he was agreeing with Mole.

Alec pondered this for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, what the hell. For the greater good, I don't think we should tell Max either. One crisis at a time."

Logan opened his mouth to comment on that, but he would wait until Zeke tossed in his judgment. The boy seemed indifferent to it all by now. "Doesn't matter what I think, right? Majority rules," he stated in a resigned tone. "And I'll honor that …" his voice trailed off before picking up again, "… but you do know that Max is going to kick all your asses when you eventually tell her, right?"

Everyone fell silent except for Alec. They all seemed to dread the idea of getting on Max's bad side— except for him of course, given that he was always on that side. "Oh, it's not so bad. She throws around a couple of mean phrases like 'I'm going to kick your ass' and 'watch me bitchslap your stupid face' and so on and so forth. But … that's about it, really."

They all paled.

"Um … so we all agree?" Logan cut in hastily.

Reluctantly, they all nodded their heads.

"Are you going to tell OC?" Alec abruptly asked.

"There's no need. OC's packing to leave Terminal City soon, along with Sketchy and Normal," Logan answered.

"Wait, what? Why?" Alec replied.

"Max is coaxing them to leave right now," Logan explained. "She doesn't want non-transgenics in Terminal City any longer, what with the toxins here and all," he pointed out.

"Yeah, and the tanks, the machine guns, the soldiers outside ready to murder us, and … oh yeah, the biblically bad thing that's prophesized to kill everyone," Mole tossed in.

"… That too," Logan replied, tossing a wry smile in Mole's direction.

"Riight," Alec replied with a raised brow.

"Are we done?" Mole asked. "I mean, that news didn't seem that urgent."

"Not yet," Logan answered quickly. "Now here's … the most important part." Logan's expression turned from gloomy to stern instantaneously. He pressed a button on his cell phone and held it forward. The volume was increased enough so that everyone in the circle could hear clearly, but not so much that the sound would carry outside. "This was sent … two hours later," he announced.

He pressed play.

"Cale, it's me again," this time, Lydecker's voice seemed stronger and his tone contained a hint of urgency.

"I hate to always be the bearer of bad news, but it's my duty to protect my kids—especially Max. Until we can talk face to face and I can explain everything, just know that we tapped into a conversation between White and a familiar. Be careful who you share this information with and be sure to look out for Max afterwards, since we know they're especially gunning for her.

"Don't ask me how this happened; just know that it is happening. The Conclave's ready to move in, I don't know how or when, but I know that they are. By the sound of it, they're being fed detailed interior information. There was everything from food distribution times to a catalogue of weapon models in the armory. That leads me to believe one thing," they all heard Lydecker sigh heavily.

"There's a traitor inside Terminal City."

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A/N: … No comment, for once.