Previously in LET

According to her superiors, she was a special operations soldier with genetically enhanced abilities; a transgenic. She was being punished for allowing a young boy, her commanding officer's son, to be killed during a mission she'd commanded. Her CO, White, had full autonomy over what happened to her now; he'd made it clear that the loss of his son would not be taken lightly.

"Everyone you know somewhere in that fucked up little head of yours that you care about but can't remember, will be dead. You're precious hazel-eyed man will be among the bodies." He observed her calculatingly, satisfied with the fear that washed over her battered features. "You are going to kill him."

'You are the key. Your sacrifice will bring forth life from death.'

A fierce, animalistic fire took up residence in her eyes and she smiled wickedly. I have a new mission, now, White.

"Texas?" he asked, his eyes wide. "They're in Texas?"

I'm going home. The thought delighted her even though she couldn't remember what home looked like, or who or what was waiting there for her. I'm going home.

Chapter Twelve: Home Sweet Home

452 pulled the jet black motorcycle up to the curb and parked about two blocks from her destination. She carefully surveyed the area to assess any potential threat. Having caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror during her two days of traveling, she knew it wouldn't do for her to be seen - battered and bloody as she was.

Though she dimly realized that perhaps she should've found somewhere to wash up during her journey, she hadn't wanted to waste any time in getting as far from the base in Amarillo as she possibly could. She remembered seeing the roadside sign as she ran - 'Now Leaving Amarillo.' Remind me never to come to Texas on vacation, she'd thought sarcastically.

About eight miles outside of the city, she'd found an old beat-up mustang that had been left running outside a convenience store. She had swiftly relieved the owner of his car and it had taken her a good distance - until Washington. She'd made it into Yakima and the car had broken down outside an impound yard. There she had found the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen - or at least that she could remember seeing.

She'd dispensed with her clunker of a car and jumped the fence of the impound, intent on retrieving the beauty before her. She ran her hand along the smooth black surface of the bike with reverence and was almost litteraly thrown backwards by the images that pounded into her mind; a vision of her riding an identical motorcycle, racing with the hazel-eyed man through the streets of a city. She'd quickly decided she had to have it.

Now, as she prepared to leave the bike, she found herself feeling a sense of grief. She'd only had it for a short time - a day - and yet it felt as if it were a part of her.

After her eyes roved over the area, she found some paper and cardboard and quickly set about obscuring the bike from view. I'll be back for you She proudly looked at her work and, once satisfied, left to stalk with ease through the city toward the gates of her home; Terminal City as she'd heard it called in the news on the mustang's radio. Strange name for a military base.

The high wire fence loomed ahead and her heart thumped with excitement and fear. She somehow knew that this was her home - where she should be. But what her handlers at Amarillo had told her still weighted heavily on her; what if these people didn't want her because of her failure?

She pushed aside the thoughts with a shake of her head. Negative thinking like that is what will get you killed on the field, she mentally reprimanded. With one last quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, including the sentries posted in various spots around the fence, she bent her legs and pushed up from the ground, vaulting over the obstacle. It still somewhat amazed her that she could do such a thing, and yet, strange as it was, it felt so natural.

452 crept through alleyways and between buildings, searching for the base's headquarters. After less than ten minutes of searching, she saw a large six story building that seemed to be the center of activity. Man, the handlers told me about this. They aren't human she thought after seeing several decidedly non-human 'people' walk into and out of the command center. These are my people, she reminded herself, remembering the dream. None of us are human.

After a while, all the hustle and bustle seemed to die down a bit, dozens having gone inside the building. I'm just in time. "Don't start the meeting without me," she muttered aloud. She began to walk towards headquarters, intent on finding someone in charge, as her training dictated. As she moved closer to the building, the wind brought a familiar scent to her nose. She turned her nose into the wind, breathing the smell in deeply. Threat, her instinct told her. Something inside of her seemed to take over, just as it had done when she'd escaped. Her movements took on a more feline form as she slinked around the side of the building to an open window halfway in the ground, her nose guiding her.

Effortlessly she slid in the window, landing with inhuman grace on a hard concrete floor. She was in the basement of the command center. Her eyes darted back and forth across the hallway, taking in every minute detail. The bars covering the small windows in every door. A lone guard looking rather bored standing outside one of them. A prison. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent again. Knowing the guard was not a threat, only an obstacle to her target, she blurred forward in a flurry of motion and delivered a harsh blow to his jaw, sending him to the floor. Seeing he wasn't down for the count yet, she swung her boot and it connected with the back of his head, rendering him unconscious. A set of keys dangled from his pocket and she lithely bent down to grab them, then tried each key in the lock to the door.

As soon as she pushed open the door, the familiar scent pervaded her nostrils, sending her body into a frenzy of fear, hatred, and pure revulsion. The gun that she had taken from the guard in Amarillo was in her hands before she could think, and she trained it on the man hunched over in front of her. Her hands shook ever so slightly as she clicked off the safety. The small sound made the man turn to face her. He looked at her curiously, seemingly completely oblivious to the gun aimed at his head.

"Max? I knew you'd come for me." His eyes lit up as he looked at her in delight. "You're hurt," he stated simply as he saw the streaks of dried blood adorning her face and arms.

"Who are you?" she demanded with authority. Though she couldn't remember who he was, seeing him made her skin crawl and the hair on her neck stand on end.

His jaw dropped and he stared back at her indignantly - as indignantly as he could, given his discheveled malnutrioned appearance. "You know who I am! I'm Logan. Don't you remember, Max?"

Who's Max? some part of her wondered. The more dominant personality told her this man was dangerous and the threat needed to be quickly eliminated. She stared at him with eyes of cold granite and wordlessly squeezed the trigger.

Joshua stalked angrily down the first floor corridor of HQ. White hadn't been using his cellphone recently and the area wasn't narrowed enough for them to send in a team. They had a team waiting on the outskirts of Texas for orders, but they still didn't have a location, and Joshua was restless and at a loss for what to do. Emotions raged inside of him as he rounded the corner and descended the steps into the basement. All his senses immediately went on alert as he saw the fallen guard sprawled in the hallway outside Logan's cell, the door wide open. He caught the scent of blood and ran

"Who are you?" came the voice that he knew well and held so dear - Max. She sounded so detatched and confused. Why doesn't she remember Logan? Why is she here. He came to a skidding halt just outside the door and saw Max, a gun trained on Logan. Her whole body was quivering and Joshua could smell her fear - taste it. She was scared to death.

He saw her finger twitch on the trigger, and knew that he had to stop her; though in all reality, he wished he would've killed the man himself long ago. He lunged forward, tackling her to the floor just a millisecond after she pulled the trigger. The blast reverberated off the stone walls, growing until it sounded much louder than it should have.

Logan let out a pained scream as the bullet grazed the left side of his head, doing little damage in the long run. He began to mumble almost incoherently again; "Why Max? Why would you hurt me? I love you." His babbling was ignored by Joshua who was currently trying to keep the very angry brunnette from throwing him aside and finishing the job.

"What the hell are you doing? He's dangerous!" she yelled, trying to push against the solid mass holding her down. She glanced up and the second she saw his face, she stopped struggling, and the primal force relinquished its hold on her. "Do I know you?" she questioned softly, confusion evident on her face.

Joshua was puzzled. "Of course you know me, little fella. I'm Joshua."

You were dead in my dream, she thought with a shudder as all the faces of the dead haunted her yet again. "I had a dream about you when I was...where I was transferred." 452 spoke the last few words in a whisper, desperately trying to hold back the memories and emotions associated with her recent stay in Texas.

The canine man eyed her with concern. "Transferred? Did you bump your head when Joshua tackled you?" Max not remember capture?

"Hey, look, I'll answer whatever you want me to if you get off me and show me where I can wash up." Joshua sighed heavily and raised himself up, offering her a hand, which she refused. Before she'd made it halfway to a standing position, however, her legs buckled beneath her. "Damn, I musta used up too much of what little strength I had," she muttered under her breath. Joshua offered her a hand again and this time she took it - grudgingly. She quickly tucked the gun into the hem of her pants, the handle resting at the small of her back.

Once she'd stood up, Joshua was for the first time able to actually look at her. She was severely undernourished, her bones painfully obvious beneath her skin. Fading scars, some more recent than others, littered nearly every visible patch of skin and blood was caked in her hair and on her face. "Poor Maxie," he whispered, wanting to reach out to her but afraid at the same time.

"Whatever, I don't have time for this." She dusted dirt off of the seat of her pants as she walked out the door. Looking back over her shoulder, she said, "You gonna show me where the bathroom is, or do I have to find it myself?" She threw one last glare in Logan's direction before turning and walking off, Joshua scurrying after her, making sure the door was locked behind him. I will be coming back for him, she silently vowed.

"I'll show you." Can't let others -especially Alec- see Little Fella like this, he reasoned as he caught up.

They trudged up the stairs, side by side, Joshua checking to make sure that no one saw Max. As they rounded a corner of the upstairs hallway toward the bathroom, she was pushed forcefully back as someone ran into her. "What the hell is your - ?" The rest of her words were swept away in a tide of emotions as she came face to face with a dream. "Hazel-Eyes," 452 whispered in awe. He's alive. And here. The urge to touch him, to make sure he was real, overwhelmed her. Slowly, as if in a daze, she brought her hand up to his cheek and the sensation was almost too much for her to handle.

Alec's eyes widened in surprise as he saw her. "Max, oh my god." He looked to Joshua for an explanation, but received only a shrug in answer. "I - I heard the gunshot, and I thought someone had finally had enough of that bastard. But, - " he stopped mid-sentence and a worried expression washed over his features. "Oh my god, Max, are you okay?" Stupid question. Just look at her, dumbass! Alec's breath hitched in his throat as he took it all in, all the damage done to her body. After a few minutes of shared surprised looks, Alec's initial shock faded and he reached out and pulled her into a loving embrace. "Damn, you had me so worried," he said into her hair, not caring that the dried blood was staining his cheek.

452 froze under his touch. He's hugging me. Why is he hugging me? She gingerly pulled herself away, suddenly perplexed by how wrong it felt to not be in his arms. "I - I'm sorry you were worried. Why, exactly, were you worried?" What, what'd I say? she wondered as Hazel-Eyes gaped at her as if she'd just called him every obscenity known to man.

"Why - ?" Alec couldn't find the words. Again he sought Joshua's gaze for any sign that he knew what was going on, but again, found nothing. "Um...because...I didn't know where you were. And you're hurt." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Let's get you to the infirmary, okay?"

They all started walking, and Alec saw Max's legs shake with the effort. Without even realizing what he was doing, he put an arm around her, steadying her. What the hell is going on?

To Be Continued...

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