A/N: Umm... what can I say? I'm sorry I haven't updated in quite a while. I just couldn't make this story do what I wanted it to do. I must have rewritten this chapter four or five times, possibly more. It's also never gone below 82 degrees in my apartment for the last week (not even at 2:00 in the morning), and I find it terribly difficult to write when all I want to do is sit under the fan wearing a shirt that was in the freezer all night. I appreciate your patience, and I will hopefully be able to continue posting regularly. The story's almost done, anyway. Then, hopefully, I'll be able to try that freezer thing.

A/N: Oh, and, on a private matter, merely an inconsequential sidenote, today was the first day of classes at SDSU. I like my school.

Chapter Seventeen: A Bad Idea

Logan had seen some large houses in his lifetime. It came with the name and genealogy, along with the charity balls and fancy dinner parties. The Patterson estate, however, was an exceedingly large piece of property. By San Francisco standards, it was practically a separate fiefdom. Before the Pulse, a palace like Patterson's would never have existed. The land was far too expensive. After the Pulse, and with his ill-gotten fortune, William Lucas-Patterson II had swooped in and bought the property his home now sat upon from the original owners. The sellers were only too grateful for the large cash sums Patterson offered, which were undoubtedly quite a bit smaller than would have been expected in better times. In short, Patterson took advantage of the misery of others in order to build himself a kingdom. It was just another reason for Logan to despise him. Though, as Max later pointed out, someone had to clear the land and build the place. At least some families were able to put food on the table due to Patterson's immorality.

It was a bad idea. For so many reasons, and on so many levels, it was just a bad idea. This wasn't about Will Patterson anymore. This was about Max, and she was walking into a trap. Logan had tried his best to convince Max that what she planned to do was completely insane, especially after the obvious change in what they had previously assumed to be their situation. She wouldn't hear a word of it. She was convinced that her plan would work, so the only thing left to do was cover her when she went in.
The Patterson home was freakishly quiet as they navigated its cold, marble hallways. Their footsteps rang out against the shining floors, and their breathing seemed to echo throughout the entire length of the house. It felt more like an abandoned museum, or even some sort of tomb, than an actual home, and Logan fought down a wave of dread as they navigated the labyrinthine corridors. They had entered the compound without difficulty, and then... they hadn't met anyone at all. On an estate as large as Patterson's one would expect to find gardeners, housekeepers, a pool boy... anything but the dead silence that surrounded them.

They were walking almost in single file. Max led the way, navigating their way through the maze-like house. Will, with his intimate knowledge of the building, might have been a better choice to lead, but there was still a feeling of distrust between him and his saviors/captors, and Max refused to let anyone else be the first in the line of fire merely to aid her in her agenda. Luckily, Max seemed quite familiar with the Patterson estate. How many times had she been an invited guest in that house? How many times had she graced Patterson's table, enjoying a family dinner with the criminal and his playboy son? Logan couldn't help but wonder, and thatfamiliarmixture of jealousy and dislike flared up once more, but, as usual, he pushed it aside. It certainly was not the time for such petty and unhelpful emotions.

Behind her, Alec guided the bound and gagged Scarface, who was docile enough at the moment, but had put up a hell of a fight when Max had decided to put him in the trunk to make room for those who were actually willing to cooperate. Logan brought up the rear of their interesting little party. For effect, and for the sake of their nerves, they had duct-taped Will's mouth, but allowed him full use of his limbs. If something happened, Max didn't want him at the mercy of his father (or any of his father's goons that might have been hiding in any one of the numerous rooms around them). Nevertheless, to ensure his good behavior, Logan followed him, with one hand on the younger man's shoulder, and the other on his own gun.

"Are you sure we can't think of another plan?" Alec suddenly asked, his whisper harsh and loud in the emptiness around them.

"Shut up and trust me," Max shot back. Alec didn't answer, but turned his head to meet Logan's eyes. In Alec's expression, he saw his own fears validated, and a shiver climbed up his spine. They should not be doing this. It was a trap. It had to be.

He hadn't expected it, although Alec and Max evidently had. Perhaps they'd heard the telltale sounds of human life - breathing, coughing, hearts beating - or perhaps not. However they anticipated it, when they turned the corner and saw four very large, very heavily armed men in tailored black suits, Alec and Max were already in soldier mode, their bodies tense, and yet... relaxed somehow. Logan was left to bite down his own surprise at the living barrier that had suddenly sprung up between them and the end of the hallway. Will, evidently as startled as Logan, practically jumped out of his skin. When the four men raised their guns, Logan could feel him shiver, or was that just Logan projecting? He didn't stop to consider it. He merely raised his gun and pointed it at the nearest man in black.

"X5-452," the smallest of their adversaries announced, his eyes trailing slowly up from Max's toes to her eyes. He smirked as he did so, and Logan's trigger finger itched.

Shit. Shitshitshit. Logan tried to remind himself that they had known going in that Patterson probably knew more than they wanted him to, probably knew about Manticore. Yet, a complete stranger addressing Max by her Manticore designation made him sick to his stomach.

"Who are you?" Alec asked calmly.

"We're you're escort," the man replied coolly.

Oh… Logan could have groaned aloud. Escorts were never good. They were especially unwelcome when they were armed. As heavily armed as these men were, they were about the least desirable escort on the planet.

"I think we can find our own way," Max replied smoothly. She moved. It was just the slightest, most innocent gesture, but Logan saw it. Perhaps more importantly, Alec saw it. His answer to the gesture was so immediate, that Logan wasn't even sure he actually saw it. It seemed more likely that, knowing what had happened, his brain had supplied a fitting image. However he saw it, he watched Scarface fall helplessly into the startled "escorts," unable to stop himself. He was a victim to the impetus of the push Alec had given him. As Scarface flopped, fishlike, among the men he'd bowled over, there came the blur of the two X5s as they disarmed and incapacitated their aggressors.

Almost gleefully, Alec began to pick through the assorted weapons of the defeated men. He picked up an extra handgun and shoved it into his jacket pocket, and threw another at the defenseless Will. Max scowled when she saw it, but said nothing. If nothing else, Logan knew, Will's reaction to their latest adventure seemed to prove, once and for all, that he really wasn't involved in their current little nightmare.

"Stick it in the back waistband of your pants," Alec instructed poor, gagged, dumbfounded Will, who could only stare at the complex metal instrument in his hands. "You don't have to use it, just wave it around if you have to. Now, do it." Will obeyed Alec's stern tone, and, as he shakily hid the gun away, Alec gently took his arms and kept them behind his back. From the front, Will appeared to be just a closely bound as Scarface, who was currently struggling to his feet.

"Good idea," Max allowed curtly. "Let's keep going." She met Logan's eyes, and it almost felt as if she wanted him to read the emotions there. She wanted him to know why they were doing this. She had to have answers now. It was too personal. Patterson had stepped over an invisible line. By watching her, and taping her, he'd violated her. She was going to have answers. Logan nodded slightly, trying to convey his acquiescence. He would help her find her answers, and then he would help her recover from the humiliation and pain. She seemed to understand his silent message, because she turned, her dark hair flying out behind her, and started back down the hallway.

TBC...