Chapter 8: Whirlpool

Aaron swiftly swung from the top deck to the lower as deftly as the Filipino boy had, approaching Marta as she sat nervously, awaiting his next instruction. She had already collected their meager belongings in the backpack lying on the table. Despite the chilling fear that had settled upon her, Marta felt the warmth of desire at seeing Aaron's lithe form stretch and flex effortlessly as he maneuvered about the ship. His strength and dexterity reassured her, but she instantly felt remorse, knowing she crippled his abilities.

Aaron read the pained expression on Marta's face. He shot her a direct look, "Stop."

He leaned back against the table, crossing his arms as he frowned down at her. He glanced behind him, checking for the map. Seeing it still there, he twisted to grab it. He rolled it up and shoved it into the pack with a twinge of guilt at taking an important nautical tool from the fisherman. It was quickly dismissed as he recalled the glint of the thick gold watch on the satisfied captain's wrist.

Marta decided now was as good of time as any to tell Aaron her plans. She rose from her seat and stood before him, knowing he would take some convincing. But, hearing something she hadn't, Aaron turned towards the bridge. The Filipino boy jumped down onto the rear deck and spoke a few quick sentences to Aaron before smiling shyly at Marta and running off into the lower decks.

Aaron stared off into the distance, quietly thinking until Marta prompted him, "What did he say?"

"He confirmed the crew will be stopping for fuel at the next island where they'll stay the night offshore and begin their trip home at dawn tomorrow, as instructed."

"Then we'll reach land tonight?"

"Just before dinner time, fortunately. I'm sick of fish," he joked, easing the tension. "How does chicken curry on the run sound?"

"Messy."

"OK, chicken curry to go while on the run," he clarified. A corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile but Marta was shaking her head seriously, her eyes downcast.

"No?" he questioned, ducking his head to catch her gaze. His hand reached out and he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her head to face him fully. Marta hesitated to answer. His thumb gently swiped her bottom lip-whether to prompt her to speak or out of longing, she wasn't sure. For Aaron, it was both. "What is it?" he asked, beginning to feel suspicious. He sighed and dropped his hand as she squared her shoulders. Her chin remained aloft. He knew he wasn't going to like her response.

"We need to go back."

Aaron closed his eyes under furrowed brows and tried not to sound condescending. "Back where? The U.S.?"

"No, back to Manila."

That surprised him.

"Why?" he asked, incredulous. Then he cut any reply off immediately, "No. It's not possible-way too dangerous."

"Well, dangerous; yes," Marta conceded, "but still possible-and necessary."

"Nothing back in Manila could be worth the risk."

Marta sighed inwardly and sunk back into her chair. Aaron pulled over the other chair and sat down. He looked at her dubiously, waiting for the explanation. Her elbow came to rest on the table, her head cradled by one hand. Her pinky was held captive by her teeth, at its delicate fingernail, between her lips as her mind churned. She glanced over to him reluctantly, but with resignation, and dropped her hand, straightening. She had obviously made her mind up, but was anticipating his displeasure.

Aaron had already begun running through his mind possible reasons for why she wanted to return and the likely consequences. Each scenario he imagined played out badly.

"Marta," he began dismissively.

"Hear me out," Marta stopped him. "I didn't know that agent in Manila, the one that came after us."

"Established," Aaron said guardedly. "They were using him to eliminate what was left of Outcome. And we know he wasn't one of your program participants..." Marta responded with a look at his comment, but nodded her head in confirmation. He rephrased the statement. "He wasn't one of the participants. So, then there's at least one other, more advanced program."

"Right," Marta said emphatically, as if his statement supported her decision.

He looked at her pointedly, "Which is exactly why we can't go back. We've got super-agents on our trail. We have to put as much distance between them and us as possible, and always stay three steps ahead of them. It's our only chance. Even alone, I couldn't stand against multiple juiced-up assassin uber-agents."

Marta reflected the dismay she felt, but Aaron misread it. "Hey," he soothed, taking her nearest hand in both of his under the table. "I didn't mean I'd stand a better chance alone."

Hoping to alleviate some anxiety from her face he added, "You were the one that took him out. Not me, right doc?"

"Aaron," she interjected, "I know full well that I was only able to catch him off guard because he had already dismissed me. I very nearly caused myself to fall off the motorcycle just flinging my helmet at him. He knew I was no threat. His disregard for me was the only reason I was able to manage a surprise attack."

She laughed with self-mocking, "It wasn't even an attack; more like a lucky kick in wild desperation."

"It was a well-timed, effective action of survival instinct that saved us both," Aaron contended seriously. "You can't discount that."

"It was a lucky escape and I doubt it will happen again. They will catch up to us, Aaron, and we will have to face them one way or another. Now is our only chance to encounter them on our terms. Yes, our chance of survival is dismal, but this is our one shot at a positive outcome."

Marta dared to address their likely fate, leaning in to repeat their earlier agreement below deck. "We die together trying to."

Aaron was visibly troubled by her resignation to a doomed destiny. "I prefer the first part of our little pact-to live through this together one way or another."

Marta smiled and interlaced her fingers in his with a squeeze to placate him. "All I mean is, that I'm all in-no matter what happens. We don't run and hide; that only delays the inevitable. We face this."

Aaron nodded his head stoically, staring at their hands. Marta leaned back in her seat and breathed in deeply before saying, "I think we should stay on board the ship and return with them to Manila. Even if the Assay Group has identified this boat as the one we took from the docks, they wouldn't be expecting us to still be on it. Manila would be the last place they would look for us, right?"

Aaron dismissed her line of reasoning. "If they haven't already sent someone to confront this boat at the next harbor, you can be sure they'll be waiting to question this crew as soon as they get back. It won't take them long to identify this ship as our getaway. They'll have learned from the pier workers that we sailed on this fishing trawler. It would just be a matter of tracking its route fast enough to catch up to us. I'll consider ourselves very fortunate if we aren't boarded or blown out of the water before we make it to land."

Marta stared back at him unperturbed. "Fine. Then, if we're not obliterated in the next few hours, we'll switch ships at the fuel stop. We'll tell the captain we're heading elsewhere and point out a different ship. We'll make sure we're seen boarding that one so they'll wrongly inform anyone that asks later. We can jump ship before it leaves and stay the night on the island before stowing away on another sailing back to Manila."

Aaron determined it wasn't a bad plan; just a bad destination to execute the plan. "You do remember how much chaos we caused there? We'd be recognized instantly by practically everyone. I'm sure our faces are showing on all their news stations. And, that's just the general population. NRAG will scour the city for any tiny piece of information that might help them figure out our next movements. If a couple of those new science experiments aren't already on their way to intercept us, they'll probably be in Manila waiting for the next opportunity."

Marta sat dutifully during his speech, listening. When Aaron finished, his piercing blue eyes challenged her. She slid forward to the edge of her seat, drawing closer to him. "If we run, at best, we'll have a longer amount of time together before it's over. But I'll be a nervous wreck, expecting our imminent demise at any moment."

Her flashing green eyes softened as she made her next statement and changed the tone of their conversation completely. "Aaron, I wouldn't be able to make the time we had left together count, and I desperately want to. Maybe this way we'll only have a small amount of time together, but we can make the most of it."

Her soft, sweet words and gentle innuendo made Aaron's blood rush. He felt momentarily off-kilter, and incredibly thrilled, but managed to remain wary. "That sounds like blackmail."

Marta's blushed crimson, having been caught in her attempt at subversive seduction, and her eyes dropped from his pointed look. One shoulder shrugged as she confessed, "It's the truth."

By the time she mustered up enough courage to meet Aaron's eyes, a solemn silence had fallen upon them. It wasn't exactly sexually charged, but it felt intimate and meaningful.

Leaning forward purposefully, Aaron finally broke the reverie, "Yeah, it is."

His lips met hers slowly, his eyes wide open during the full length of their chaste kiss. Marta blinked back at his intense stare but intuitively understood it. Their "something" had finally been laid bare between them. They were now an "us" and there was no turning back.

It wasn't until he pulled back and smiled at Marta knowingly, that Aaron blinked. He had won whatever contest that was, she thought. Still, she had been the one to first openly acknowledge the relationship they had formed, albeit with ulterior motives.

She resumed her argument confidently. "Hitting the Research Assay Group head-on is our only hope of a fighting chance. That makes Manila worth the risk."

Aaron sighed, for more than one reason, but could not disagree. " 'Risk' is a major understatement."

He stretched, adjusting his straining body, then asked, "What exactly are you after in Manila?"

Marta shifted uncomfortably, hesitating. Aaron braced himself for her answer.

"The program medication."

Aaron's hand came up to rub at his temples as he deduced her plan, its possibilities, and where it would take them. He groaned, "There's no chems at the plant so you mean any program medication the agent might have had on him."

"Yes," she confirmed, a little unnerved by how quickly he surmised her thoughts. "I should have searched him for meds before we escaped on the boat, but I didn't think of it at the time. You may think it's a long shot, but I really believe there's a good chance he was taking pills-that he wasn't viraled off medication yet."

Aaron dropped his hand from his temples to warily watch her explain, "It was our lab that developed the viral application that locks in the enhancement effects. Dr. Hillcott's discovery is what made that possible. Only a laboratory under his guidance could manage the development at such an early stage. It was his breakthrough. Even with Dan Hillcott himself heading the team, we had a lot of issues to work through, and the viral injections were only successful recently. There hasn't been enough time for another lab to replicate a working version of the stems with a new formula on another project or program."

He couldn't help but be impressed, again, by her intelligence and talent, though he didn't like where this was going. Marta felt she was a liability for him, but Aaron knew better. She was an asset-a dangerous one. Eric Byer was right to want to take her out.

She leaned back, spreading her palms before him in conclusion and asked, with a victorious smile, "You see? They must be using medication. Yes; it could be more advanced in its application, but there's no way an uber-agent, as you call them, would be locked in. Not yet, anyways."

"If you're right, and we can manage to get this new medication somehow, why do you feel you need it?" Aaron was sure he knew where she was taking this idea, but had to ask. There were a few dark turns this course of action could take.

"Well, as evidence, of course." She spoke plainly, but soon glanced away under his glare. With an expression that didn't quite ring true to Aaron, like she was only appearing to be puzzled at his line of questioning, Marta brought her focus back on him and suggested, "Or, as blackmail for insurance."

"Or both," he added, with a satisfied smile hiding a lingering unease about her plan.

"Yes, exactly!" she smiled brightly, happy he had no more objections to her strategy. We have a chance, she thought, with growing hope.