Too Far Gone

Part Six


Previously:

"Your target is X5-494. He has relocated to the city of Seattle . Intel has it that he is the leader of a compound called Terminal City and that there are close to 2000 transgenics, transhumans and anomalies living there. Your mission is to find and eliminate him. He is a threat to Project Manticore and all our soldiers. A threat to your future.

"You will find a physical description of your target in this dossier. Special skills, abilities and known weaknesses are documented as well. I have also included his last known address.

"In addition to 494, he keeps company with various other X5's. Should you manage to find any of them, you will attempt to bring them in. Contact me if you need back-up." She looked from Max to Biggs. "Are your mission parameters clear?"

"Ma'am, yes Ma'am!" they replied in unison.

"Very well. You leave at 0900. Agent Sandoval will provide you with the necessary weapons for this mission. See him on your way out. Dismissed." Renfro motioned for the door and Max and Biggs left the room.


Recon

Two days later, they pulled up at a Motel on the outskirts of Seattle. The drive from Manticore had been long and boring. Biggs and Max took turns at the wheel, and the days passed slowly. The radio had begun grating on their nerves and conversation had run dry about 200 miles into the trip. Max thanked the Blue Lady it was over.

Biggs was sprawled out on his bed, watching television. Max was sitting in an armchair, looking over the documentation on X5-494.

Physical Attributes
Male Caucasian, Aged 22 years, Height: 6'1, Weight: 178lb., Eyes: Hazel/Green, Hair: Dark Blonde

There was a photo of their target taken not long before his escape. Hover drone footage showed what seemed to be a bar of sorts and additional photos of a place called 'Jam Pony' suggested two locations the target frequented.

Max continued her perusal of the file. There was information regarding 494's weapons training, Martial Arts and other proficiencies, spoken languages, records of mission successes and failures. She finally found what she was looking for.

Known Flaws
Subject is reluctant to kill unless provoked, a liability in the field; He is an independent thinker and may disobey orders if he deems them unsatisfactory; Subject's tendency to become emotionally attached led to mission failure. As a result, subject underwent intense Psy-Ops observation and reindoctrination; Subject possesses a significant element of unpredictability. Proceed with caution

"Hey, Biggs" He raised his head and looked at Max.

"494's got mad skills. We're gonna have to do some major recon. I don't want to be caught off my guard with this guy."

"Yeah, I read the file. Wouldn't wanna be in a gun fight with him, that's for sure! Did you see those records? Trigger-happy much?" Max grinned.

"Okay here's the deal. 494 has been sighted on numerous occasions at a bar called Crash. It's a joint over in Sector 9. I want you to do some recon. Scout the place. Possible exits, vantage points, you know the drill. I'll check out the target's last known address. With any luck, he still lives there. We'll meet back at the Motel at 1600 hours."

She snapped the file shut and crossed the room. Max always loved the gadgets and gizmos that came with the job and the reconnaissance for a mission could cause as big a rush as any heist she'd ever pulled. But back to the situation at hand.

Max picked up the miniscule camera Agent Sandoval had given her. A piece of perfection, it fit in the palm of her hand. She pocketed it, then moved on to the next piece of equipment. She picked up a sheath and strapped it to her right ankle, slipping the Kris knife inside. Repeating the action with her Butterfly on the left ankle, she lowered her pant legs to cover them. Max then moved on to the T-Handle, strapping it to her wrist. Easing her gun into the waistband of her pants, she saw Biggs do the same. He nodded to her. They then slipped on their packs and exited the room.

They had decided to find separate means of transportation. Biggs took the car. Max had other ideas.

She crept into the lot, crouched low behind a row of confiscated cars and motorcycles. Looking them over carefully, she finally settled on a beautifully sleek, black and silver bike: a Kawasaki Ninja 500R. It was old, but in pristine condition. She crooned softly. "Whaddaya say baby? You wanna go for a ride?"

Max quietly rolled the bike out of the lot and pushed it through a gap in the fence. She hopped on, kick started it and revved the engine. It purred sweetly between her legs. She squealed in delight as she sped off.

Max arrived shortly thereafter at the address she'd been given. The building was old and grubby looking. Seattle was a city that had seen better days. For the better part of 10 years it had gone from bad to worse; streets littered with refuse, walls sprayed with graffiti. Many buildings had no hot water and problematic piping and electrical wiring. 494's building was no different it seemed.

She entered the foyer and made her way down the dimly lit hall toward the stairwell. The stairs groaned with every step she took and she wondered if the structure would collapse. Max was slight of build and the very fact that they steps strained beneath her weight was worrisome.

Number 24. Here it is. Max put her ear to the door, listening for signs of life within. There were none. She extracted her picks and proceeded to work the lock. There was a soft 'click' and she turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open.

She stepped into a surprisingly large room. It was sparsely furnished, she noted, but homey. The apartment smelled comfortingly familiar. Like soap, aftershave and leather. I love that smell. No, I know that smell Perhaps someone from her past used the same toiletries, who knew. She dismissed the thought and resumed her visual sweep of the room.

The kitchen opened out on to the living area. Max walked over to the refrigerator and looked inside. A bottle of milk, half a sandwich and a couple of pieces of cheese took up little space. Does this guy eat?.

She then opened some cupboards. There were assorted cans of food. Chili, tuna, beans and vegetables, some spam and pasta sauce. Aside from that, the kitchen was bare.

Taped to the refridgerator was a photo of 494 and a black woman with frizzy hair. They were perched atop bicycles in front of a brick building. The sign behind them read 'Jam Pony Messengers'. Aha, so that's where you hide out all day. Have to tell Biggs.

494, if indeed it was 494's apartment she was in, didn't have much in the way of possessions. His bedroom was equally bare, consisting of a double bed, a single closet and a chair. But what she saw by the door floored her.

Max reached up and lifted the picture frame from the shelf. It's just not possible! But it was. Staring back at her from the frame was a photograph. A photograph of 494 with his arm draped over her shoulders, the two of them surrounded by happy, laughing faces. Balloons and streamers hung overhead.

Max turned the frame over and removed the picture. The inscription on the back read as follows:

Thank's for a great birthday! I'll never forget it.

Max.

Max squeezed her eyes shut in concentration. The faces in the photograph were familiar. The chocolate skinned girl, the boy with the his goofy smile and long blonde hair falling over one eye. The buxom blonde standing next to 494. And…Biggs!

She stared hard at the picture. How did Biggs know them? And if he knew them, why didn't they know each other? Wouldn't they have recognized each other at Manticore?

Realization swept over her and Max had to steady herself. Leaning against the wall, she slid down and put her head between her knees.

The brainwashing. That's what it was. The incomplete memories. The voices in her head. The conversations she replayed. They had been her friends. She knew them. Her life was falling into place again. But one thing bothered her.

She couldn't place him anywhere. 494. For the life of her she couldn't remember ever having met him.

Biggs entered Crash to find a ratty looking bar. This place is the pits. Why anyone would voluntarily spend time here sure as hell beats me

His eyes swept the room noting the two front doors, one on either side of the front wall, and a single exit at the back. A small secluded area at the side held a pool table, some tables and chairs. Not much to work with. He'd have to tell Max that if they decided to ambush their target inside Crash, which he didn't think was a good idea, they would have to find a way to maneuver 494 into the pool area.

Biggs left Crash and headed back to the Motel.

Max arrived moments after Biggs. She had driven around for the last couple of hours trying to clear her troubled mind. She was apprehensive about the mission. She couldn't seem to shake the feeling that 494 was someone she knew. Someone she cared about. Taking out a target was one thing, but knowing the target? Max knew she had to complete her mission. But the nagging feeling inside made her hesitate. Then she recalled the information on 494's file.

Subject X5-494 was ordered to become intimately familiar with his target's daughter. Unfortunately, he became emotionally attached to her. When instructed to take out his target and the target's daughter he failed to successfully complete his mission. Subject apprehended the daughter, trying to warn her off, and deliberately failed to set the charges on the target's car.

X5-494 was admitted to Psy-Ops for thorough investigation and testing.

Could she deliberately fail, knowing she would be subjected to torture? Not following through with her orders would result in re-admittance to Psy-Ops, an ordeal she did not wish to repeat and had yet to get over.

Biggs gave Max a searching look. "Max, you okay?"

"Huh?" she asked in a daze.

"You spaced out on me. I was asking you about the recon. How'd it go?"

She didn't look him in the eye. "It went fine. 494 still lives at the address. Not much in the way of belonging or food for that matter. Anyway, tomorrow we should check out that Jam Pony place. It's a bike messenger service and I think he works there."

"Sounds good. Let's go." Biggs agreed as he dropped onto his bed and promptly fell asleep.

How the hell can he sleep so much Max wondered. She had an annoying strand of DNA that was all shark. And as such, she didn't sleep much.

Max settled back into her pillows and let her mind wander. The rest of the night passed in relative peace and quiet.

They sat in the car some distance from Jam Pony. It was a little before 9am and they'd been in position for over an hour. Biggs suggested coming here before the messenger service opened so they could keep an eye on 494. The plan was for one of them to trail him during the day and the other to elicit as much information as possible from his boss and co-workers. But since she'd seen that photograph Max knew better. If they knew her and Biggs before, complications would arrise. Max wasn't ready to share that information with Biggs though. She hadn't yet decided what she was going to do.

"Here he comes." Biggs pointed toward the opposite end of the street. Max crouched lower in her seat and watched as 494 entered Jam Pony. Not long after he exited the building, his bag full of packages to deliver.

"Biggs, you trail him. I'm gonna do a little investigating of our target. I'll meet you back at the motel, say, 1800 hours?" He nodded. Max got out of the car and strode toward Jam Pony. She waited until the car was out of sight before turning in the opposite direction. She headed for the Space Needle, needing to be in a high place to think.

Max spent hours on the Needle as snippets of her past flashed in her mind. Her memory was waking up, slowly. But the one mystery she wished so desperately to solve evaded her. 494.

She rose reluctantly and made her way down to the street. She'd left her Ninja at the motel and she didn't relish the walk ahead. She sighed, tucked her head down against the cold and set off.

Max picked up some food on the way back. She knew Biggs would be as hungry as she was. X5's burned energy quickly and as a result they could eat like pigs.

She entered their room and settled down to wait for Biggs.

Biggs had been following his target all day. Moving through the various sectors, delivering package after package was driving him slowly insane. What the hell possessed this guy to take such a shitty job? He couldn't fathom doing anything so stupid. If I were on the outside, a few nice B&E jobs would suit me fine.

As soon as 494 had finished with his deliveries, he'd turned in the direction of Terminal City. The area was deserted and Biggs had to follow on foot, something he didn't much care for. The perimeter of Terminal City was dirty and dank and it made Biggs feel grimy.

He kept back, hiding behind piles of old rubble, and he watched 494.

On the opposite side of the fence, his target was conversing with a small group of people. Then, without warning, the lot of them jumped the fence. Bingo! Biggs smiled. Looks like Ifound the other X5's Renfro was talking about. If he and Max played their cards right, they'd be revelling in the praise of Manticore's elite. He rubbed his hands in anticipation.

Biggs walked back to the car and drove to meet Max.