Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story
Episode 8:
Over the course of seven days, Kicking it Midway to One Gen to Another…
Sitting opposite Logan…was a woman in her late thirties: In a light red woven sweater like dress, and with long curly black hair past the waistline.
In a matter of fact way… Logan introduced her, "Max…I'd like you to meet Anin: Your long lost mother."
Max was lying on the couch in her jet black jacket: Deep in thought, and looking sick to her stomach. With the images of all her friends running through her mind… Past and present… she was thinking over and over:
Take away the ass kicking, and what am I? Just "this bitch" deluding myself on having friends I can kick it with until I kick them all away?
Logan implied, "there's someone who flew in from Canada who needs our help." Max sat up, turning to face him fully. She figured, "twice in one day?"
Logan revealed, "why don't you ask her yourself?"
Not far behind him was a fairly worried looking woman in her early thirties: With shoulder length dark red hair, dark blue jeans, a bluish black cleavage showing top with sleeves, and reading glasses in her pocket.
Drawn out and yet assertive sounding…she kind of awkwardly said, "hey."
Max walked up to her. She said back, "hey."
The woman checked, "you all right? You sound a little distant."
In mixed uncertainty, Max insisted, "I'm fine. What do you need, miss…?"
The woman offered her hand in courtesy, "Fairchild. Caitlin Fairchild."
With a heavy sigh… Logan concluded, "I don't think it's you, Miss Janel. She wouldn't admit this to anyone. But…she's been mostly keeping to herself for the past several days: Even from her best friend."
Caitlin faintly chuckled awkwardly, "umm…not to be rude or anything. But, haven't you heard of sarcasm? You certainly seemed to be fairly fluent in it." In hard hitting realization… Max went, "oh, god. Maybe I am going in circles."
Both relieved and not…Logan pointed out, "ohh. But, that's just what I don't get, Max. Your friends are your friends because they accept you for who you are: Bitchiness and all. I don't usually swear like that. But…the point is there." Teary eyed…Max uneasily reflected, "it wasn't just that: It was…worrying that the heart of darkness was going to overtake me if I didn't tone down the bitch that is me."
Max faintly smiled, "we really are pathetic, aren't we?"
Logan commented with a faint smile, "hopeless."
Max said, "I love you." Logan added, "me too."
And soon, they were making out at the window: Throwing their cares away.
Three nights later…
In the darkness…a silvery warehouse stands before a wide metal fence.
Very little stars are out. But, the moon is shining three quarters of the way.
In the warehouse…are a set of carnival like mirrors in colorful red and blue.
Candles of wax are everywhere.
Devrom and Max are in their jet black jackets: In combative stances.
Max is in a sweaty dark brown top.
Devrom has blue and silvery liquid metal enforced biker gloves, and a silvery Kamen Rider Henshin belt that almost looks like a strap on Wii U.
Max with her jet black gloves punches at him, only for him to block with both of his metal enforced gloves in a cupped fist.
A little out of breath… Devrom firmly nods, "nice focus."
They both side tumble away.
With a boyish grin, Max comments uneasily, "Dev man, you have no idea."
Nervously, Devrom gets up. He figures, "o…k. What's with you?"
Max heavily sighs. She's hot and flushed…and she knows all too well why.
A little out of breath… She pushes back, "can we just get our fighting on?"
Devrom gathers, "sorry. Didn't mean to…"
Max uncomfortably admits, "part of being a super trooper with me. You didn't do anything." Devrom questions coolly, "then…what?"
Max flip jumps at Devrom. He in turn does a Rider Kick: Complete with a kind of high tumble flip in midair and kicking Max away.
She crash lands into a wooden crate filled with bubble wrap.
Only slightly beat up… Max shakes off the impact fairly easy.
She reasons firmly, "you really don't want to know."
Devrom offers his hand. Max takes it, pulling herself out of the crate.
She adds, "thanks." Devrom figures, "don't mention it."
They're both standing there, not far from the mirrors.
Devrom kind of quickly changes the conversation, "maybe. But, we all got painful memories to face." Max faintly smiles, "damn straight."
She wonders curiously, "what about you? Care to tell me yours, Obi-Wan?"
Devrom reflects kind of lightly, "faint chuckle. Not really. Point made."
A little awkward like… Max says, "yeah. Someone had to make it."
Max's cellular phone beeps from her belt.
She suddenly realizes, "sorry. Got to blaze." She starts to head back out.
Devrom insists coolly, "no problem. Watch out for mirror monsters, ok?"
Max pauses. And, she turns back to him. With some faint amusement, she comments, "not the kind of words I'd go with. But, I'll keep a eye out."
Devrom highlights, "they're not just monsters: They're in all of us."
Max faintly smiles, "like a inner bitch. Thanks."
Devrom adds, "don't mention it."
Max heads out: Going for her Ninja out back and taking off soon after.
Max speeds down a alley, and onto the highway. She almost crashes into a car. But, she jumps her Ninja over the hood of the honking car.
Irritated looking, Max continues down the road.
She takes the call with her free hand, "yeah?"
From the other end, in a blue long sleeved shirt… Logan checks, "you ok?"
Max shoots back, "I'm in heat and trying to get my mind off of jumping someone's bones. What do you think?!"
Logan awkwardly implies, "well…maybe a mission will help. Could be a lot of running around from what I hear." Max faintly smiles, "thanks. Sexy body of intellect."
Both amused and not all at once, Logan asks, "did you just call me sexy?"
Looking a little red, Max says, "oh god. Just give this bitch the bitch to run through before I get more bent."
Logan reasons, "sure. But, I think it's better if you talk to Krit yourself: Even with you not exactly..." Max adds quickly, "I get it. I'll call you."
She hangs up and then dials a number. She parks a bit a ways off road first.
Krit picks up, "hey. I got that you're in heat. But…I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important." He's at a pale white desk, and he's got a Canadian Security Intelligence Service badge in his dark grey jacket pocket.
Max faintly smiles, "to the point as always. What is it?"
Krit reveals bluntly, "the CSIS is letting people in a experimental city kill each other rather than come in to help."
Snapping back to real, Max questions, "really? Did you just say…?" Krit confirms, "experimental. It's a long report that they quietly buried. But, yes."
With a deep sigh, Max solemnly says, "go ahead."
In just a few hours, over in Canada…
By day, everything is in serenity: In the public eye, anyway.
There are summer getaway cabins and grassy plains with wildlife preserves for miles. But, there is no wild anymore. No lumberjacks or construction workers.
The cities are mostly extremely well paid.
Low level silvery and coal black A.I. construction machines run construction and repair like droids in Star Wars. Coolant, salt, and planes are plenty: Even to the extent of controlling the weather over the country for very wealthy contractors.
Spiraling highways, super thin and super wide skyscrapers with parking garages, and coal black factories make up every city block.
Marvel, Disney, Dreamworks, and even Image are the mega corporate powers at play. Politicians have become advisers to them and their billboards just to stay in office. For, the real power of the country is in corporate hands.
Image is under a corporation out of the blue called WalkerBros: With a walkman on water for a logo, and two very manipulative men called the Walker Brothers in office.
Most everyone that is anyone is famous or friends with them. The paparazzi have died in popularity, and the tabloids are second hand. Bodyguards have essentially become the police, leaving plenty more room for military officers.
But, even now…some towns have slipped through the cracks for funding.
The town of Cherlinon is such a place.
The ramjet is parked on a not very far rocky hill before a very windy thunderstorm. For, the weather in the dark of night can never truly be tamed.
Max along with a recently made official Eyes Only agent are fighting through the storm in jackets, past wrecked and rusted in factories and blackened cars. They hold onto the bizarrely brown semi-melted sulfur smelling rubbery substance making up the walls for support against the wind, and keep on going.
Her name is Charim Dharn: A medium curly black haired Japanese woman scientist with a kind of ghostly transparent skin. Like supernaturally so.
She wears a light blue overcoat over a white formal buttoned shirt. Yet, she keeps going with no sign of fatigue or wetted down hair.
Over the wind… Charim Dharn calls out uneasily, "how…much further?"
Max slightly turns to her all stoic like. She starts to say, "I have no…"
In spite of the fierce wind and rain…a gray automatic door opens.
In a green rocket fuel trails and stars styled black jacket, a thick brown bearded and mustached guy with a hood up is there. His name is Dike.
With a spaced out tone, he says real low, "hey! Want to come in?"
Charim Dharn is shivering some under her overcoat.
She reasons fairly, "I would. But...what do you think?"
Almost defeatedly, Max faintly smiles, "chilling in a little couldn't hurt."
Dike suggests, "got plenty of heat to go around."
He hiccups: Almost off balance too. But, the automatic door is quicker.
The automatic door closes behind the three of them as they come in.
It turns out to be a hospital, plastered in the rubbery stuff. But, the only way one can tell out in the cold is Cherlinon Hospital in semi-melted big red letters.
Inside, just a little under a hour later…
The halls are whitish gray. The ceiling is covered in melted cobwebs.
The white sheeted kind of moldy beds are plentiful, and with plenty of shipped in crates for groceries, bed sheets, and "more inviting" pointy plastic wrap.
The checkout area has been turned into living space, where piles of trash wrapped in bed sheets are ready to be put in the morning fire. Max and Charim are here: With two moose fur waiting chairs pulled up before the stone cobbled fireplace.
Charim is stretching her hands out over the fire to keep warm. And, Max is in a sky blue top: Just glancing out to the storm through the window, while two medium blond haired bodyguards in black are playing Gridiron Master at a small wood table and now and then reaching for Poutine.
A third bodyguard mutters, "hey! We already rolled, genius."
Almost begrudgingly, a second one comments, "yeah, yeah." The other two just laugh at him as he reaches for some more Poutine before moving a rook piece.
Dike is in his room: With plenty of red worn out balloons...and direct-to-dvd porn scattered on the messy booze stained blue floor titles.
He now doesn't have a hood up, and is seen to have short brown messy hair.
And, with him in the room…are two dolled up prostitutes with long candy apple red dyed hair and sporty boobs: In white stick decorated white full body straps over their mostly naked bodies, and kissing and "outer rimming" all over his green candy sugar dyed nakedness. Moans of pleasure echo about his bed.
Charim looks very off put by the sound.
She says uncomfortably, "leaving well enough alone might be best. But… I wouldn't be thinking about it much if they were quieter."
Max voices simply, "same." She doesn't even turn around.
Charim sums up, "if that's how we feel…why don't we just find a better place to stay the night? There's got to be more than one place to go." Max faintly smiles, "tempting. Got a feeling though there's more to this than being spaced ass drunk and kicking it in his man fort. I think we should stay. Check out his story."
Charim feels a little sweaty and burnt.
She moves her arms away, letting them relax by her sides. But, as quickly as the burns appeared on her hands…they're slowly fading like a slow motion medical video.
Charim reasons nervously, "well…if you say so. You've been out on missions longer. What's your story though?"
Max insists firmly, "sorry. But, it's better you don't know."
Flashes of her shakily taking her meds, almost ending up in bed with Eric, impulsively ending up in bed with Rafer, and escaping Manticore cycle within her.
Charim concludes, "maybe it would help though. Telling someone, I mean."
Max coldly mutters, "maybe. But, that's my business: Not yours."
Charim comments hotly, "fine. Be that way! I just wanted to help."
Max sighs uneasily. And, she turns to her.
With a hint of sadness… She admits solemnly, "I know: I saw your file."
Charim sharply whispers, "what?!"
Max states upfront, "yeah. I'm a nosy bitch. Can you just get over it enough for us to get through this bitch?"
Charim mutters coldly, "and I thought you couldn't have more issues."
Max shoots back, "well, not all of us can sign on to be experiments."
Several months ago, all the way into Japan…
Charim was in a white lab coat, running down a flameproof plastic wrapped corridor with grill like metal doors. And chasing her…were ten mostly very dark blue cybernetic gear and claw like jointed humanoid robots with little red lights all over. They're collectively called A.N.N.A: Short for Active Non-Negotiable Assassin units.
They echoed robotically, "surrender or die. Surrender or die."
Charim swiped a dark blue credit card into a card holder at one of the doors.
But, it didn't unlock.
She threw the card away in a fit of tears. She kept running.
The A.N.N.A. units launched their flamethrowers at her. But, it only was catching on her lab coat: Which she bitterly ripped off.
Down to her green bra… Charim turned into a winding plastic wrapped corridor: With flame trails left behind. A.N.N.A. units just walked onward: Targeting for her.
Charim tried to get to a metal pipe styled elevator. But…on the elevator… Another A.N.N.A. unit was coming for her.
She gasped in fear.
She tumbled over her own legs…as several missiles took out a huge chunk of wall.
The momentum sent her slide crashing through a skyscraper window…and down into the coastal waters as a heavily scraped mostly humanoid water drop.
Presently…
Charim bitterly points out, "actually…I tested my biochemical therapy on myself when Kasoku Kikan Hoshi wouldn't let me test it on computer. If I didn't know then what I know now…I would have turned it into a universal inoculation therapy for them. I swam all the way to America, and the rest is kind of history."
Max faintly smiles. She highlights, "so you're your own girl power experiment hoping to spread it all around. Guess you're not so bad."
Charim faintly smiles back, "thanks. Maybe you're not so bad yourself."
Max adds, "thanks. Now, are we gonna to just chill and do nothing…or are we gonna check this story out?" She starts getting up.
Charim mumbles, "ok, ok. Watashi wa yo hayaku mou!"
Max faintly chuckles. And, she starts her way down the hall.
A short while after…
Max opens a white door into a little corridor: Plastered in medical plastic wrap, and covered in wood pieces. Several charred corpses are briefly seen: With thin melted surgeon mask straps that Max notices with her cat like eyes.
Very disgusted by the sight… Max is quick to pick the lock on the next door with a knife: Only to find it easily break into a pile of melted wood ooze.
She mutters, "damn." She finds a operating room behind it: With a melted in vent, melted in plastic, puddles of reeking charcoal, and melted everything else.
Teary eyed…Max thinks to herself, "and just when I thought I couldn't possibly get sick to my stomach. What the hell happened here?"
Charim whispers, "Max?" Max solemnly figures, "yeah?"
Close to tears herself…Charim mutters, "what the…?"
Max faintly mutters, "exactly what I'm asking myself."
Charim faintly suggests, "well…maybe this will help get us some answers."
She is holding up a yellowish red dvd glass case: With a dvd markered in black "You Want Rubbergolin? You Can't Handle the Burn!"
Ten minutes after…
Charim and Max have found a gray 90's styled monitoring computer to play the dvd: With some rewiring to a silver rimmed black DVD player, thanks to Max.
Meanwhile, Dike is taking a shower. The bodyguards are getting ready for sleep in their very tidy rooms between shifts. And, the prostitutes have left.
Max says, "okay. It's set." Charim firmly nods, "good."
She goes ahead and puts the DVD in.
The black screen changes to a partially static filled screen of madness.
Onscreen… Someone is holding up a unseen camera, running from a exploding melting over brown rubber substance fortified house.
A gas cloud of sulfur overtakes the burning screaming Canadian military in black.
And yet, there's heavy rain in the sky: Like it was paid to happen.
Dike yells on high, "hell yes! Can't handle the burn! Can't handle the burn!" The first bodyguard from earlier says, "Dike, you're drunk. We need to get to a safe…!"
The house completely bursts into flaming sulfur smelling goo. Flames to the sky quickly turn the dwindling gas cloud into a acidic clash of storms.
The water thins it out all right. But, not before hundreds coming home from work are overpowered by the sulfur: In and out of vented semi-melted homes.
Quick forming boils out of thin air slowly kill them in their screams.
Half burned teenagers and college students are running in a panic for the nearest unattended buses and underground levels. Some ride the buses through the center of town: Crashing violently into each other as sulfur overtakes them.
Max stops the DVD. She looks wide eyed, "oh, god."
Charim is just in shock: Mumbling to herself in Japanese.
Close to tears… Max realizes, "a experimental town. Dike turned it into a Butyl rubber and industrial plastine paint job bomb waiting to go off."
Charim mutters shakily, "the Rubbergolin. Super flexible for shock absorbers... Jigoku no yōna for burning up." Max solemnly adds, "yeah."
Charim looks kind of confused, "wait. If you knew it's experimental…how did you not know about the Rubbergolin?" Max stretches it a little, "I didn't. Our agent inside the CSIS didn't either: Only a intelligence report saying the Canadian military were going to storm Dike Grovly's house in a experimental town by 1500. Figured they destroyed the rest of the reports around Cherlinon out of not giving a damn."
Down the hall, the shower water seems to stop.
Charim sharply mutters, "Kuso ̄ . So, what do we do now?"
Max grimly gathers, "what we should do before deciding how much of a bastard or a drunk he really is: More recon."
Ten minutes or so after…
Max thinks to herself, "I hate this plan. But…to figure this all out before Spacely's robots from hell catch us… We don't have much of a choice. They survived a gas plague with nothing on their asses. And, even if I can take them out easy with girl power… Deep sigh. Charim has just recently become a agent. She would be shot easy: With or without this bitch trying to stop them cold."
Dike is walking into his room, drying off with some white hotel bought towels. He mumbles uneasily, "oh, hell. I'm starting to feel like…"
Max is standing in the doorway: Back in her catsuit, holding up one of his dark green bottles of imported alcohol, and looking like she's aching for a bang. She seductively mumbles, "…like getting high again?"
Dike faintly laughs, "only if you're entertaining. Hic!"
Soon enough… Dike and her are on his green sugar covered sheets: Making out with Max forcefully but firmly on top of him.
But, before she impulsively goes for a bang… The big picture hits like fire.
And, in that sickly moment of clarity… Even with Dike's moans of pleasure hitting like poisoned daggers… Max rams her knee hard into his chest.
He bends over: Throwing up green vomit over the bed before passing out.
Max quickly gets up, looking sick herself.
She mutters to herself, "thank god for parallel processing. Don't get up."
She pushes his body over the right side of the bed, and then leaves some gross green stained bed covers over him to look as though he was just sleeping.
Max is glaring into the white little sink nearby while she spits out saliva.
Soon, she's washing her hands: Even as she can hear footsteps. And, she's thinking to herself, "damn. When this is all over, I need to shower. Actually… Make that two showers and a good hot bath. I hate this bitch so much right now."
Not long after…
Two of the bodyguards come with mostly gray shotguns to check Dike's room. All the while, Max and Charim are sneaking down to the lower level.
In the dark, a awkward silence sits.
Charim moves her black flashlight forward. The light hits a cobweb encased door, much to her unease. Black spiders seem to be dancing in taunting circles.
Charim mutters under her breath, "now what?"
Max just takes out her knife and slashes the middle webs away.
She presumes, "we knock."
Blurs of light shine by Max's cat like eyes.
Her gloved hand opens the door.
The shadows walk alongside the two of them, down a white tiled corridor.
There's very few cobwebs...and a lot of smelly greenish bug repellent stains.
Blurs of light and blurry green whiz by, as the shadows make their way from kicked open door to kicked open door.
Then… They find the very dark infirmary.
Cabinets of painkillers and ice packs are mostly cleaned out. And lying on the thin white sheeted stretcher on wheels…is a figure with long very dark red hair, deep red burns across her face and chest, breathing straws out of her burned neck, a constant state of teariness, and a white medical gown. She groans weakly, "is…someone there?"
Seventeen minutes after…
By her bedside… Charim checks nervously, "you sure you are okay?"
The woman in bed is Misorika: A Ukrainian immigrant with quite a story to tell.
Misorika mumbles faintly, "wish so. But…violent groan…I make do. Thankful water runs still. After long while though…ice packs not help. Too cold."
Charim tries to put a brave face in front of her. But, she's very teary eyed.
From a back corner of the infirmary… Max is looking through Misorika's diary with a aged kind of moldy yellow leather cover. It's certainly seen better.
With a weak smile… Max looks up towards her, "I feel you." Kind of confused, Misorika voices, "I not sure what you mean. But…thank you."
Max insists, "you can thank us later. We're not out yet. But, we will get you out." With a faint smile, Misorika says, "I…violent cough…thankful still."
Charim tries to delicately say, "Max…maybe we should wait."
Max asks blatantly, "for what exactly?"
Charim looks stunned.
After collecting herself a bit… She points out nervously, "well…to ask her questions. We could get some sleep. All of us could." Almost disturbingly, Max calmly concludes, "so noted. You honestly think sleep is going to help her much though?"
A awkward silence follows.
Max reasons, "that's what I thought."
Charim mutters coldly, "it doesn't mean I have to like it." Max adds, "yeah."
Charim faintly sighs, "I'll go watch the door." Max solemnly nods, "ok."
Without another word, Charim goes to keep watch outside the door.
Max turns back to Misorika.
Trying to sound cool and calm about it… She continues, "you say you were a factory worker for the Rubbergolin?"
Spaced out sounding, Misorika checks, "in the book?" Max confirms, "yes."
Taking heavy breaths in between… Misorika tells her her story, "violent groan! I not forget. No electric. No clean at…violent cough…all. Got burned on equipment. But, good husband bring me here right away. Surgeon called away…and gone. Months gone…violent cough…and I start thinking I only one."
A tear falls from Max's face. But, she ignores it.
She sadly admits, "I'm not sure I know either. If he's out there though, we'll be sure to find him." Misorika nervously adds, "okay."
Max thinks out loud, "I should let you rest. Just tell me something."
Misorika mumbles, "I…violent cough…can try. What is it?"
Delicate sounding, Max inquires, "do you know who ran the factory?"
Misorika recalls faintly, "not close enough to see face to face. Just his name. Violent cough! Dike Grovly."
Max sighs deeply. She thinks to herself, "yeah. This night just very much sucks."
With the coming dawn of another day…
The sheets from last night have already been burned over the fire.
Two bodyguards are still awake: Shotguns ready. Most everyone else is asleep.
Then…there's a sudden drop in temperature.
The third bodyguard mutters irritatedly, "damn cheapskate. You go check it out: See if the thermostat needs reworking again."
The other bodyguard nods. He heads over to the checkout desk.
But, when he gets there…he sees it's not just the mostly gray thermostat. The gray flatscreen computer at the desk is off, and so are the lights over the waiting area.
In a few memory flashes, from not very long ago…
Misorika is lying in bed: Drinking down water from many plastic cups she keeps around, and eating from almost completely gone grayish emergency rations.
Max tells Charim, "get Misorika out of here. I'll take care of the men with the guns." Charim argues, "but what if they see us? If even one of them shoots Misorika…!"
Not far from the door…there's a untouched red box circuit breaker.
With a faint smile… Max pinpoints, "not if they can't see you."
Presently, up a level…
Max's voice breaks the cold silence, "this is the part where you fall on your ass."
From up a open vent above, Max swings out.
The bodyguard shoots into the dark. But, Max has cat like vision on her side.
She land kicks into him, taking him out over the desk with a great thud.
The second bodyguard hurries over to the waiting area.
He calls out, "whoever you are, you're dead meat son!"
As the last bodyguard is slowly getting up… A downward cable with a knife on the end goes shooting out across the hall.
It hits him right in the leg under the sheet. And, he's wincing in sharp pain.
Max comments offhandedly, "wow. Should get your vision checked out if you think I'm a son of anybody."
She slides down the cable, kicking at the bodyguard. But, he shoots first.
Max reactively spins out of the way of the bullet in mid-air. But, the bodyguard swings his shotgun into her like a bat.
Max groans violently on the floor: Clutching her heavily bruised side.
She mutters under her breath, "something about be careful what you wish for."
The bodyguard faintly laughs, "one of the girls from last night. Don't worry your sorrowful head: You won't feel another thing."
As he goes to fire though…Max hurls her other knife into his chest.
A faint trail of dark red liquid flies out, as the bodyguard falls over dead.
The shot from the shotgun hits one of the doors instead.
Max gets up. She's crouched over and still shaking. But, she's alive.
The first bodyguard is still wincing in pain between consciousness and unconsciousness…when Max goes into Dike's room to drag his sleeping body out the door in his newer bed sheets. His bed sheets have been turned into a human sack.
It doesn't take long for Max to grab her crossbow and other knife on the way out.
When she gets out… The sun is out. The clouds have parted: However briefly.
And, Max is thinking to herself, "now…what to do with…you?"
Some murmurs interrupt her thought.
Two school buses decked out with taped on shotguns and spray paint full of former college students with ragged clothes and war paint are in the middle of town. One is mostly dark red, and one is mostly light blue with hail like spots.
It looked like they were gearing up for war. But, some of them have come out of the buses: Quick to spot Max, and very uncertain what to make of her.
There is no surprise: Only caution and fear.
With a pistol in hand… A guy with medium brownish black hair presses, "we don't have time for a interrogation. Our rations are on the line. What is your mission?"
Finally coming to a decision… Max faintly chuckles, "hey. I'm not taking sides. Besides… There's plenty of green in food back there. Enough for both sides."
A guy with crew cut brown hair checks, "how are we sure of that?"
Max disturbingly suggests, "cause here's the guy that is just aching for a sentence."
She opens up the sheets…letting out a slowly coming to Dike in his naked stupor.
Both sides look at him wide eyed.
Most every one of them realizes, "Dike Grovly."
Max lets the sheets go and just keeps walking for the ramjet: Not even looking back. And with her back turned, Max comments half sarcastically, "you're welcome."
Some time later…
High in the mostly clear blue skies… The ramjet is on its way back to Seattle.
Misorika is sleeping as soundly as she can be, in her strapped in bed in the back.
Max is piloting. But, she's very quiet. And, it's not hard to guess why.
Still… Charim just has to ask, "what's wrong, Max? We got her out, and helped a lot of people while doing it." Close to tears, Max mutters bitterly, "living with myself."
Charim solemnly reflects, "maybe. But, you did it anyway: Even when you were about to break. Something tells me you've been through worse."
Max is thinking back to the last time she was in heat…and to the kids in Romania.
Max faintly chuckles, "not exactly. But, thanks." Charim faintly smiles, "yeah."
In the late morning, up in Logan's apartment…
Logan is crouched down in a corner, taking some measurements with yellow measuring tape for something.
In a army blue jacket over black… Sydney suddenly asks, "am I interrupting?"
A little taken aback, Logan insists, "uh…no. No. Not at all."
He goes over to his drawer and puts away the measuring tape.
He stands there, back to the desk. He asks uncertainly, "why you ask?"
Sydney looks very nervous. She just says, "you better take a look for yourself."
She hands Logan a yellow envelope. And, he opens it.
He opens it to find pictures of a crime scene. And, as he looks through them…all the color fades from his face.
In the pictures… Indian yellow police tape is over the dead body of a recently made official Eyes Only agent. Only black dress like pants are shown of him.
And, in the dirt…this is written in blood and motor oil:
Interfere in our efforts again, and Toni Cale is dead.
Zìrú For All. -ZFA