Author's Note: This sets up the scene.

The Gift of Daylight

Chapter 9: Hope is a Four Letter Word

"If we never meet again. It will be too soon."

Location: Fudgy Buddy Factory. Seattle, Washington.

Time: 2:10 PM PST

"So White, still have a stick up your ass?" Max asked as they walked down the long hallway. She was flanked by four familiars, walking beside Alec, and behind White, who didn't seem to flinch at the question. Or rather, insult.

"If it's there, it's because you put it there, 452," White replied, eyes focused forward as they approached the interrogation room.

"How long did it take to get all that tape off?" she retorted, thinking back to the incident in Jam Pony where Max and her group stripped the Familiars of their clothing. Max couldn't help but grin wryly seeing the irony in this situation. They were using the exact same tactic for this mission.

The corner of White's lip twitched but he did not reply. They continued walking down the hall until they reached a door. "Put 494 in a cell," he commanded a Familiar. "And if he tries anything," White paused, eyeing Alec with obvious distaste, "shoot him in the head."

"Yes sir," the man snapped to attention and roughly tugged Alec's arm.

"Hey hey, watch the jacket," Alec protested, shaking loose the man's arm and walking confidently in the other direction. Though before he did, he threw Max a reassuring look, as if to ease her worries.

Max tried not to watch as Alec was led away, feeling her pulse race a little faster. The interrogation room was just like any other interrogation room. It had one table in the middle, three metal chairs around the table, one light dangling from the ceiling, and one door to enter and exit.

"Wait outside until further notice," White declared once they were in the room.

"Yes, sir," the three men stood tensely by the door, shutting it behind White and Max as they entered.

"Sit down," he offered Max. "I imagine you must be worn out after all you've been through. Running around with your freak friends, causing hell for the Conclave and all."

"You're too kind," Max said, the words sounding distant and mechanical through the pounding of blood in her ears as she forced her feet to keep moving her forward. She realized that she was alone for now, in enemy territory, with no knowledge of the status of her team.

White was still gazing at her, a thoughtful look on his face, and with an agonized effort, Max shoved the fear and doubt away to the back of her mind. If her team was still alive, they could all get out of this. If they were dead, she would most likely be joining them. Either way, this was no time to let her emotions muddy her thinking.

"I want to talk to you about my son," White said, straight to the point as usual. Even though he was sitting across the table Max could blatantly see him reaching for his gun. He pulled it up, showed it to her, unloaded the gun, and set it on the table. "A gesture of good faith."

"You do?" Max said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, a posture designed by its apparent helplessness to put suspicious people at ease. With the same motion she surreptitiously rocked the chair back a bit, trying to gauge its weight. Very heavy, unfortunately, which eliminated it as a grab-and-throw weapon. "I don't remember him, but since I have some time on my hands, care to refresh my memory?"

"This is no time for games," White snarled, pounding on the wooden table between them. Max felt it shake under the force, but didn't flinch at all. "What," he started again, breathing slowly, "did ... you ... do ... with ... my ... son?" each word struggling to escape his mouth. It was as if he was fighting to keep patient, though Max didn't understand why was putting all the effort into doing that. She was in enemy headquarters, he could resort to violence if he wanted to. He also seemed a bit ... rushed.

Then it slapped max like an ice-soaked rag. This interrogation wasn't approved by the Priestess at all, White was going out of his way to do this.

"Are you making a habit of kidnapping other people's kids, 452? First Ray, then the Priestess's son?" White said bitterly, derailing Max's train of thought.

"Kidnap? If I'm not mistaken— and I'm not— her son came to us ... with an assassination squad, weapons, and murder in mind," she retorted. "A mission that he sucked at, by the way."

"Whatever," White dismissed it with a wave of his hand, more concerned with his own son than Seth. "Whether you want to or not, you will tell me what I need to know," he said menacingly, a threat looming in that statement.

"You can't touch me," Max said matter-of-factly, yawning. "Or the Priestess will have your ass."

"Right," White said, exhaling slowly. "Right, you're absolutely correct," he conceded the point, but didn't look the least bit defeated. "However, your friend doesn't have the same immunity." White stood up and backed up towards the door, then gave it a few knocks.

The door creaked open and a soldier entered with a baseball bat in one hand. A second soldier entered with Alec in tow, his hands still bonded. Alec was forced forward and dropped on his knees.

"You'll tell me what I want to know ... or we're going to find out how tough Manticore really made you freaks," White said threateningly, now holding the bat and eyeing Alec.

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Location: Cafeteria, Fudgy Buddy Factory. Seattle, Washington.

Time: 2:10 PM PST

Syl, Krit, and Brin were sitting in the cafeterias in a secluded corner of the room. Krit was eyeing his soup hesitantly, jabbing it with a piece of bread. "What now?" he spoke up, looking at the two women.

"Plan's been compromised," Brin stated mechanically, "but the deception's still intact. For now," she added. "It'd be smart to proceed as planned, the only minor problem we have is ..."

"White, yeah," Syl said glumly, downing a bit of her iced tea. The three of them were still dressed in their military outfits, helmets off and set to the side.

"I bet Rianne and Zeke know that too, they'll be here," Krit stated weakly, casting a guarded around the cafeteria. There were soldiers talking here and there, a chef in the back, and a few kids visiting their parents. All in all, silent. For now.

Minutes letter, a group of soldiers came, whispering to each other as they approached the three. Krit snapped to attention, hand falling to grab his rifle under the table. The two women were faster already prepared for a fight if it should come.

"Rogue One, Two, and Three?" the blond man asked the three of them, looking skeptical.

"Yeah, that's us," Syl spoke up for the three of them, her muscles tense.

"Wow, I didn't know we had two women in Alpha Squad," the blond man said suddenly, cheering up.

The brunette man behind him gave him a punch on the shoulder for that.

"Oh, sorry, I meant no offensive," the blond man quickly added.

"None taken," Brin piped up.

"What can we do for you gents?" Syl asked, easing a bit, but still as alert.

"Ah, well ..." the group of men looked at each other awkwardly, before one of them reached into his pocket and pulled out ...

Krit flinched.

... a pen. And a pad of paper to boot. "We were wondering if we could have your autographs, it's not everyday we get to meet the saviors of the Conclave," the brunette man asked anxiously, eyeing them all nervously.

The three X5s seemed to be taken back by this, but exhaled.

"Wh—" Krit started, but paused midway as Syl stomped his foot. "Ow," he muttered under his breath.

"We'd be happy to," Syl declared, taking the pen and notepad and signing her alias on it. She purposely scribbled it messily so the name couldn't be made out clearly. She passed the notepad around to Brin, saw her sign it, then saw her pass it to Krit. Once they all signed five separate sheets of paper, Krit returned it back to the blond man.

"Can we have one last one? Made out to Danny," the blond man spoke up, holding out the notepad and pen against hesitantly.

"Yeah, sure," Krit replied quickly, relief spreading over his features. Once that was done, the soldiers profusely thanked the three and started out of the cafeteria.

"I didn't see that one coming," Syl announced the obvious.

"We tend to get blind-sided often on this mission, don't we?" Brin stated dully. Underneath that stoic expression, Syl and Krit could clearly see she was amused. While other people saw Brin as an emotionless woman, the X5s, her siblings, could easily see through the façade.

"What was all that about?" a fourth voice spoke up.

The three of them seemed to tense again, peering to the side to spot ... Rianne. A clean and happy looking Rianne at that. She had changed out of her dirty clothes, showered, and put up her hair. She seemed amused that they were so stressed, but she supposed if she were in the enemy's headquarters, she would be too.

"Some of our biggest fans," Syl stated.

"They're not so bad," Krit spoke up suddenly, sounding distracted as he peered into the distance. "The Familiars I mean, some of them aren't ... evil like White."

"They're not so bad," Rianne said matter-of-factly. "Just like you and me."

"There's no good or bad in life," Brin stated, shaking her empty cup a bit. "Just a fence, and people on different sides of them."

"Right. Thanks, Miss X5 Guru," Krit shot back sarcastically.

"Speaking of White," Syl interrupted, back to business as usual. "Any change in plans?"

"No," Rianne replied, content with at least that part. "He separated Max and Alec, I think he's going to interrogate her first. Don't worry though, the Priestess wants to see Max, if there's one bruise on her, Whitey's in big trouble."

"Good," Krit said, releasing his grip on the gun and settling back into his seat.

"All right, Zeke will be here in a few minutes, Brin. He's still changing. Syl and Krit, you're coming with me. Walk on either side, gun barrels pointed at the ground. And don't ... by any chance, get ahead of me. It's Familiar protocol, you're my escort, it has to look right," she rubbed the back of her neck generously and yawned. "The sooner we finish this, the less people in the world die. It's a horrible thing, what's happening, what we're doing ..." she stated, looking with some disgust at the Familiars in the room.

"You can tell them that when we've completed the mission," Syl said quickly, putting her helmet back on and standing.

"Good luck you two, always keep your guard up," Brin said forebodingly.

"Yeah," Syl replied. "Of course. Good luck to you too."

Krit jabbed his soup with a piece of bread again and grabbed his spoon. "Wait, what about lunch?" he protested, dipping his spoon into the bowl and bringing some soup to his lips.

Syl grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him back, causing him to drop the spoon. "Mission first," she stated sternly. Rianne was already at one of the cafeteria exits, leaning against the doorframe and waiting patiently.

Brin was still seating, looking amusedly at the two of them.

Krit stood up and his stomach growled in response. "Fine. But after we save the world— you owe me lunch."

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Location: Medical Ward, Fudgy Buddy Factory. Seattle, Washington.

Time: 2:40 PM PST

After Syl, Krit, and Rianne departed, Brin was left to herself at the table. Ten minutes later, Zeke rushed into the cafeteria with his hair still wet from a recent shower. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized, a bit out of breath. "I had to sprint ten stories down, then out the apartment and into the command center."

Brin ignored the eyes that were undoubtedly on the two of them due to Zeke's noticeable entrance. She played it calm and collected, just like always. "You're forgiven," she replied, wiping her lips with a napkin, and setting it down.

"Ready to go?" Zeke asked, forking a hand through his damp hair.

"Of course," she replied coolly, coming to a slow stand and equipping herself.

"No need," he spoke up quickly. "Marching around in full armor toting a rifle will get some attention, don't you think?"

"But Rianne took Syl and Krit fully armed," Brin pointed out.

"Yeah, but they're going into a restricted section of the medical ward. They need to look formal— we don't. We're just getting information."

"Right ..." Brin said wearily, leaving most of her belongings in place but taking two handguns. "Lead the way to the Command Center then," she said, fastening her hair and straightening up.

"Command center? Oh no, we're not going into the command center," Zeke corrected, grabbing a piece of bread that Syl had left untouched and taking a bite. "That place is restricted as hell," he said with a full mouth, washing down the bread with a can of soda he plucked on their way out of the cafeteria. "I have clearance, but I don't want them to know we were snooping around."

"Then?" Brin asked, cocking a brow.

"Well there's only one other place the information's stored," he said, downing a few more gulps of soda. "That's the Priestess's office. Her plane's on schedule last I heard."

"Then should we run?" Brin questioned, falling in step with him as they turned at a corner and walked up a flight of stairs.

"No," he said. "But we can walk fast."

Author's Note: All the death and destruction comes next.