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Loose End

Max sneaked into Logan's apartment, avoiding security the same way she had a hundred times before. She changed Logan's voicemail to an "I'll be out of town for a few days…" that he maintains on file, just in case.

She packed Logan a few clean changes of clothing. She went to his computer system and logged in. She sat the tape from Vivaldi on the computer table and stared at it for five minutes. She left it there and went to the fridge to get something to eat. She walked back to the computer and stared at the abhorrent tape.

She didn't want to watch the tape. Dr Carr already checked him out. She needed to get to the safe house on Columbia, to be with Logan. She didn't want to watch it.

What if the tape shows something else done to him? What if he was given a different drug? What if they called someone? What if he told them something? Even if it's just to find out how much they gave him, she needs to know. Logan is in good hands right now with Dr. Carr and Bling.

She can't delegate this, what if he said something about her? Manticore? Eyes Only?

In the end, it came down to her comfort or Logan's well being. There was no contest. She watched the tape, albeit in agony.

The tape shows Logan being dragged in.

"Why can't he walk?" asks the pulp-for-brains dead thug.

"He's a cripple. We left the wheelchair, didn't figure he would need it," taunts the dead hoodlum with the snapped neck.

"Got that right," said the dead goon whose nose is now where his pineal gland should be.

Max sniffs back tears and puts the tape on 1.5 speed.

The criminals insult him, mostly about being a cripple, do-gooder, four eyes.

Max makes a mental note that she needs to remember to bring him a spare pair of glasses. The tears start running as soon as they tie his hands behind his back. Max can tell he's in pain, even though he's trying not to show it.

"So, boss, want me to gut him?" asks the goon whose neck she snapped.

"No. Well … not yet. We don't have our information," replies the goon whose nose went through his brain.

"That really isn't much incentive for be helpful." Logan's being so brave.

"You'll tell us everything. Eventually. Kallocain never fails." The goon with the severed spinal cord comes up behind Logan. He yanks back his head and shoves a needle into his neck. Logan cries out in pain.

Max sobbed once, tears flowing freely now. She froze the tape and zoomed in on the dosage, 25 ml! Quickly she searched Logan's files for any reference to Kallocain, and safe dosages. She reluctantly resumed the tape. She still needed to know if there were any phone calls.

"No ID. Eyes Only thing?"

"Boss is a privacy nut." Logan tries to use his shoulder to rub where they injected him. A dead guy hits him. They start asking questions and taunting him. Eventually Logan's eyes appear to glaze over and he starts babbling. "You think I am pathetic? You don't know the half of it." He starts rambling on about some of the more embarrassing facts about his paraplegia. It was nothing Max hadn't already figured probable; nothing she hadn't accepted long ago.

"A pathetic cripple that can't even get it up and I'm in love with a goddess."

Max sobbed as strange pain goes through her chest. It hurts. Why is she scared? She even didn't know he had a girlfriend. Of course he wouldn't tell her. He needs her. It's her own fault. Why does it hurt so much? The answer, 'because you love him,' is as immediate as it is unexpected. What does she know about love? It's her own fault that he never told her that he had a girlfriend. She made it pretty plain after the Bronck thing that she wasn't going to settle for just his worker. She forced him to lead her on. It was all her fault.

"Which goddess?" a dead gangster laughs.

"Bast."

Max froze; her brain momentarily forgetting to send even the most basic commands to her lungs

"She is perfect. The most singularly beautiful face I have ever seen. She thought that I was just trying to get close, but I didn't lie. She is beautiful. Intelligent, brilliant. Kicks my ass at chess."

Max couldn't believe it. He was talking about her! He loved her, a genetically enhanced killing machine, a freak.

"She gets her hands on you she is going to kick your asses, too. Or snap your neck. She can be kind of violent when pissed off." How could Logan smile at a time like that?

"I remember her! There were seven of us and she took everyone down. I only got away 'cause I woke up before the cops arrived. She is dangerous," said the dead lackey of the dead crime boss.

"We're ready. Like to see her try get in here," said the man who died without ever seeing her.

Max finally smiled through her tears. How could Logan think she was too good for him?

(phone rings) "Hello?" said the dead man whose nose went through his brain. "We got him. … No, no name yet. No ID on him at all. …We'll get it. …oh, yeah. Wait until you see him. Pathetic! …OK. Bring a couple pizzas. See you in an hour."

Max realized that they must have just missed that FBI agent. She hopes that they didn't ID any of the vehicles. At least he wasn't told anything. How could Logan think he's not good enough?

When they got out the chain and ripped his shirt off, Max stopped the tape. She couldn't do it. She labeled the tape "Bad" and stuck it in his safe. She washed her face, put Logan's spare glasses in his bag and went to Logan as fast as she could, inconspicuously.

To be continued …Next: Vigil.