DISCLAIMER: Please see all previous; no ownership, no profits made.

A/N: Nearly three years since an update? That can't be right!

I have appreciated the e-mails and comments from so many out there asking that this story be continued. As I've tried to explain in responses I sent to some of you, I have in mind what needs to happen in outline form, but all the details are a bear to work out, as I try to keep it (at least sort of close to) canon and have it all fit in between the scenes of "I and I Am a Camera," as I'm hoping to do.

So my apologies for the delay, and hope this continues to be of interest. I'd love to hear from you, if you're still reading – I hope all of you who have written are still out there! Once again, thanks to Mari83 for the pre-screening. All remaining confusion definitely my doing...

Edited to add a thanks to sharp-eyed Mari83, who noticed something missing in the Max-Cindy scene. In honor of Mari -- the added missing item is an apple! :D

JAM PONY11:38 A.M.

Original Cindy coasted toward the large, open entrance, swung lightly off of her bike and walked it down the ramp toward Normal's bleating drone, waiving her signature sheet at him and ignoring whatever he was on about at the moment. Same shit, different day, she dismissed it, even as she got the sense that both Normal and Sketchy – on the receiving end of this particular tirade – were trying to pull her into their dispute.

"Lunch." She cut them off with a wave of her hand, heading over to her locker, trying to make her glance into the waiting area as casual as she could. What she saw when she did, just as it had the past couple days, had her bothered.

Max.

Max, sitting alone in one of the broken down, over-stuffed, chairs, staring grimly at the television in the corner, swatting someone's hand away when they tried to grab the remote and change the screen away to anything other than the news.

Her expression was dark and moody, her body language tense. Even sitting on one place, she was far from still: her foot twitched, her knee bounced, her fingers pulled at the loose thread on the chair arm. She'd been like that since Logan's uncle was splattered all over the six o'clock news – literally – and had been working on a few more bad-tempered days building up to it beforehand. She was tight-lipped and unwilling to say much beyond her suspicion that something was going on, but she didn't know what. And given Max's moody responses when she was pressed for more, that must be exactly what bothered her most – that she was out of the loop. Knowing Max as she did, Cindy was pretty damn sure that it all had to involve one of the most convoluted and intense – and important – matters in Max's life:

Logan.

Cindy slammed her locker and straightened her shoulders. This was ending, here and now.

She marched up to the couch beside Max and sat down on its corner, hard, and faced her girl. "Here," she said first, shoving an apple under Max's nose. "Eat. Second..." she raised her hand to cut off the grumbling protest, allowing no resistance. "... go see him. Get some answers."

"I've got his answer..." Max glowered, dangerously. "Daphne..." She drew out the sound of her possible rival's name with all the vitriol of a jilted prom date.

"You don't believe that for a minute or you wouldn't be sittin' here, bouncing around with all that pent up energy." Cindy leaned closer from the edge of the couch, speaking low, for privacy, but with all the strength she could muster. "You'd either confront the bitch, or confront him, or be cryin' your eyes out. But you're all twisted up inside..."

"Confront him about what? Something that we never had? Guess I was just the hired help..." Max ground out the bitter words.

"You don't believe that." Cindy looked closely at her best friend and, seeing that she was getting though, down to another layer of Max's mood, pressed, "because you know it's not true. Logan's not like that..."

"So what is he like? I thought I knew him." The sudden intensity of Max's response made it clear that they'd hit a major topic in her brooding. "Something is going on and he's not telling me. No, it's more than that – he's not just hiding something, he's shut me out." She stared at the television screen, unseeing, her voice vibrating with tension as she added, as if in explanation, "he's a terrible liar with me and he knows it. It's easier for him just to avoid things."

"So go talk to him," Cindy urged again.

"I can't. I tried," Max got up, restless and wound up, pacing over to the table. Once there, where she arrived without purpose, nothing on its grungy surface to help her appear to have a reason for charging across the room, she gave up and just turned back to face Cindy. "He's changed," she admitted, painfully.

Cindy frowned, not sure which to believe – that Logan Cale had really changed enough to cut Max out of his life, after all the devoted looks and hopeful glances she'd seen from him – or that Max was doing her own hiding and deceiving, at least of herself, maybe all in an attempt to protect her from the clearly deep hurt she was feeling. "He talk to you?" Original Cindy tried.

"Not much," Max temporized.

"When was this?"

"The night of his uncle's funeral."

"Well, dayam, sugah, what'd you expect?" Cindy dared feel a little relief. "The boy's uncle just passed, one you say not only helped raise him, but a sorry-ass human being who may have been consorting with the enemy – and you just know that kind of drama in his own back yard would have Logan all tied up in guilt for a lot longer than a couple hours. Why don't you go back and give him another chance?"

"I did, and when I went back, I caught him, on the way out – with Daphne. Both of 'em all dressed up for a big night..." She let the image hover in the air, then added in a grumble, "probably out at the club..." Her mocking tone was more defensive than superior, Cindy noted.

"That girl ain't no competition for you, Boo," Cindy actually chuckled. "What you and Logan may have suspected, Original Cindy know for real, from her own little night of heaven with the sistah."

Max frowned deeper, glancing up a Cindy only for a moment, processing it all. "Something's still off, Cindy..." she finally admitted, not liking what she saw as she again faced the fears parading through her. "He seemed ... different. Cold. Hard."

"Mourning?"

Max shook her head right away. "Cold – with me. Not with Daphne; he was laughing and having a great ol' time. But with me, he was ... " her voice trailed off before she glanced up again and admitted, "he'd been that way before Jonas was killed, too. I ..."

She couldn't tell Cindy what had happened with Ben, any more than she could tell Logan, and so Cindy couldn't really know what Max had been hiding from him – and what she feared he had managed to figure out, anyway. How could Max risk her friendship with Cindy any further by telling her about all that now, too, having so recently rocked it with the news about Manticore, her genesis and Lydecker's persistent pursuit? Without knowing about all that, Logan's sudden change in demeanor toward Max would seem like a passing phase, brought about by his uncle's death and CI's downfall. She could see why Cindy thought it would pass.

Max wasn't really worried about Daphne – she was worried about Logan. And not about his reaction to Jonas' death, nor even too much about his reaction to CI's crises. Bottom line, she was worried about his reaction to her: he might have finally decided that having a "genetically enhanced killing machine" under his roof was not something he relished. And losing someone she cared for so deeply, in that way, for the first time in her life, Max wasn't sure the deep and painful wound she felt growing in her chest would ever be able to heal...

EAST SEATTLE 11:51 A.M.

As they rode in the Aztec Zack remembered from his second visit to Seattle, he used all his training and street smarts to read the signals Cale was throwing out at him, in and around his words, and he could see that the man had decided – just now, just this very minute – to trust him with the truth, as he knew it. "I've discovered a group here who I think is either Manticore or their evil step-child," he began, pulling his phone from his pocket. "She seems to be the one in charge, at least of the group here in town."

Logan passed his phone to Zack, open and displaying a photo of Renfro, and tried to keep his eye on the road as he watched the transgenic's face. The reaction he saw – controlled, but a reaction, nonetheless – told Logan that he'd been right.

He swallowed the thread of worry it raised and went on, "Elizabeth Renfro. You know her?"

"After my time," Zack clipped immediately, knowing Cale had caught his dismay at seeing the woman's image on the phone's small screen. "But ... I know about her. She's out here?"

Logan nodded,"has been, at least on and off, for a few months." He glanced back at the darkening expression of his passenger and asked, "where should she be?"

Zack frowned, realizing that it would be to everyone's advantage if he were as honest with Cale as the man seemed to be with him. With grunt of his own worry, the weight of his squad's safety still pressing heavily on him, he said, flatly, "wherever they're running the plays for Manticore." He stared out at the suburban scenery as they headed away from the sprawling property that made up Cale Industries. "She's Manticore's new Director."

THE RIB ROOM

East Seattle 12:15 P.M.

Zack had followed Logan into a hushed, elegant restaurant, the decor that of an old English clubroom, and wasn't surprised that they greeted him by name. Almost immediately, as he felt a touch of derision that Cale would move in such circles, it dawned on Zack that anything less for their lunch wouldn't keep up the image he himself had set up, by dressing as he had for this meet, and that such a place must be used often for confidential business deals and industry's top secret strategy meetings – so the two of them huddled in secretive conversation wouldn't seem the least bit out of character, and would be hard to bug without knowledge of their appearance there beforehand. Zack allowed that yet again, Cale proved himself to be savvy and resourceful with circumstances handed him.

He stubbornly refused to let it change his mind, though, as far as Max's return to Seattle went. That had still been the mistake of her life...

They were settled in at a table by a quiet waiter who left them menus and left them alone. Logan barely glanced at its offerings; whether out of familiarity or lack of appetite, Zack couldn't tell. He skimmed the pages quickly and decided to order as Logan did, to match his air of successful business executive. As he set down his menu the waiter reappeared.

"Salmon en Papillot," Logan ordered, his mind elsewhere, until he looked up to see a slight hesitation in Zack. Covering smoothly, he said to the X-5, "it's really very good, if you like salmon. A salad too, please," he added to the waiter, suspecting Zack would just order whatever he had, to avoid any potential slips. As he responded to the waiter's questions about dressing and drink, he saw Zack take one last, quick glance at the menu – and order as he had, passing on coffee for water. Finally the waiter moved away and the men were alone.

"Cale Industries is my family's company," Logan began, "and among their various ventures, they've been in the defense industry for a while now. One of their primary contracts is for ..."

"...hoverdrone manufacture." Zack supplied, "and your uncle, who was a part of that division, was killed by one of his own 'drones. I don't go into a meet without doing my own homework." With his words, he watched for any sign of duplicity or deception by Cale and saw none. So even if Manticore has infiltrated his company, it hasn't co-opted him yet? Zack wondered. At least that seems true to his character – but over the past decade, Zack had seen the power of Manticore to woo and convince, along with their resources to search and destroy. "Max said you're a journalist, and you get involved with investigations of your own, when something catches your attention. I assume you've joined the family business to find out what got your uncle killed?"

Logan realized he should have expected exactly that from Zack; it actually made things a little easier and might let Zack trust his motives in all this. He nodded. "And in going though some surveillance tapes that only a couple of us knew where to find, I saw Renfro and her lackeys running a project there. Seems Manticore got itself involved in weapons development now, too, hardware and software – not just the genetically-engineered, biological kind."

Zack didn't seem surprised. "Apparently they do things like that, sometimes. It makes for a good cover story, any time the project was questioned or under some sort of scrutiny by Congress, any time there was any rumor that they were developing the sort of 'weapons' they did in developing us – they could document these other projects, which as I understand are handed over to the DOD or other departments, if successful."

"Doesn't seem to make them any less ready to kill to cover up their involvement." Logan considered the information, appreciating the piece of the puzzle Zack supplied. Makes sense, and at least that connection would explain why Manticore was suddenly involved with non-genetic hardware... "They've apparently killed – or 'disappeared' – anyone involved with the hoverdrone project at CI."

"If it's hardware designed as an assassination device, they'd probably prefer it not be linked to them." He considered a moment, then, feeling some concern for the man who had been there for Max, when she needed it – for him, too, he had to admit – Zack warned, " Renfro's a loose canon – word is that she has her own agenda beyond just the stated goals of the X-series program. She clearly has no fear of cutting down people in her way to get it. If you can avoid her running into her..."

Logan shrugged, "too late." At the sudden rise of suspicion in Zack's eyes, Logan went on, "she approached me at a social event – I think she may have been sounding me out, to see what I might have uncovered at CI. Instead, I ... suggested ... that we wanted to do more projects with them, and that we weren't afraid of getting our hands dirty either."

"Well, that was stupid," Zack spat, low, as the waiter moved back toward them. They waited in silence as their salads and drink were placed before them, and as the man moved away, Zack added, "you want to get yourself in her sights, too?"

"I want to know if she killed my uncle and others at CI," Logan responded immediately, "especially if it was done with the government's blessing – although I suspect if pressed, they wouldn't exactly condone her actions. I also want to know if Manticore is setting up shop in Seattle, and if so, if it's all just a happy coincidence or if they've targeted Max again. When I started looking into things out there last week, they were pulling up stakes and taking those answers with them. I'm just trying to keep them around long enough to find out what happened."

"And risking Max as well as yourself in the process?"

"Getting to the topic of why I called you," Logan countered smoothly, irony coloring his voice. Zack watched the intensity burning in the eyes across the table from him and suddenly knew he'd found the real answer to why Cale was now ready to push Max away.

At least he has the strength of character to keep Max out of this mess, when he has to realize that he might get much further, and get his answers more quickly, with Max's help. Zack considered Cale's dilemma for a moment then asked, "so you think I can convince her to leave this time? Why will now be any different than before?"

Cale's eyes flickered at that; Zack saw that something that bothered him in the question, enough to break his steely glare from him. Still looking away, Cale covered by lifting his salad fork and making a tentative stab at the bowl of greens in front of him. "You said it yourself, 'that leggy blonde fussing over me last night...'" Logan's acerbic response preceded his soft, self-derisive snort. "Don't you think Max has seen her, too?"

Zack's eyes narrowed as he suddenly understood the lengths to which this man was going to keep Max safe. He dared, "do you think she'll believe it?"

Logan stopped stabbing at his lettuce and glanced back up to see a new expression on the transgenic's face, and fleetingly wondered if he could actually call it respect ... looking away again to fork a proper mouthful, he dropped his eyes again and said with a shrug, before lifting it to his mouth, "you did."

Zack nodded, faintly, and picked up his own fork to start eating. Allowing himself only one brief moment of appreciation for the well-made salad, with fresh, crisp vegetables so hard to find in the present economy and just the right mix of garnish and dressing, he conceded, "and I'm here to provide Max with a reason for finally leaving town."

Logan looked back up and saw that he now had the attention – and assistance – of Max's 'older brother,' one who would walk through fire to keep her safe. He nodded. "I realize that just telling her she needs to leave probably won't do it, but maybe if you could tell her you can take her to see a couple of the others, or if you could enlist her help with one of them... I'm just afraid it might need to be for a while, and unless you get her really far from here and keep her preoccupied for several weeks at least, it might not be enough – especially if she even suspects that Manticore was involved with the hoverdrone killings."

"Then we're in good shape." Zack allowed. When Logan's eyes asked for more, Zack made the decision to let him in, just enough to let him see that if he could truly sever all ties with Max, she might finally have a chance for a safe life.

There is no such thing as a coincidence, Zack mused, and now there's evidence that the Director is in the area – if only to obtain some new robotic delivery systems. Maybe she stumbled onto it while searching the area for Max, and decided to use it as a handy cover, just as he'd told Cale. But Zack couldn't treat Renfro's proximity as anything other than a direct threat on Max, who, according to his source, seemed to have a special place in Renfro's concerns. His source hadn't yet cracked that secret, but he'd long believed that Max must have been designed in a way different from the rest of them, because from as early as he could remember, there was always some special question about her from those in charge. Their trainers would always voice those extra concerns about Max, how she did in some of the training, how she was developing ... if there was something unique about her make-up, it made sense that they would try even harder to get her back than they did the rest of the squad, if only to follow through with whatever they had planned for her – whatever it might be.

But every other time he'd tried to get Max away and to safety, she fought it, all because of the man seated across the table from him now – the man begging him to get it right this time and get Max away from Seattle. For that, he needed Cale's help – he was the only one who might convince Max that he wasn't worth the sacrifice...

"Only one other person knows about all of this, for now – any whiff of any of this gets to Manticore, from anyone, and it's over," Zack said harshly, "and from what Max said, you understand exactly what that means – so not a word, not even a hint, to anyone. Most of all, to Max. Are we clear?"

Logan nodded immediately, only vaguely wondering why Zack would tell him anything, given his admitted contact now with Renfro, unless he'd decided that no one at Manticore would expect Logan Cale to have this information, so wouldn't press it. "Anything," he vowed.

Zack paused, clearly working out how to tell Logan only enough to earn his complete cooperation. "Based on information we've been able to develop," he began, "we believe that the only safe recourse for the twelve of us is to leave the country, but this time, not just across the border. We'll be far enough away that they won't make the connection, and won't have the resources – or the political protection of allies – to just hop over the border and pick us up."

"Who's 'we?'" Logan asked. "You've gotten some of the others back together?"

"More than just me alone," Zack replied, unwilling to be more specific. "Most of the work has been done to set everything up, each part set up independent of the other to lessen the chance of discovery," he went on, as if Logan hadn't interrupted. "Now it's just a matter of gathering everyone together..."

"...including Brin?" Logan realized he must have a raid on Manticore planned in addition to everything else, and wondered just how and where that would occur. How wise would that be, going into the lion's den...?

Zack grunted softly at the additional interruption, the only sign of the tension he felt in revealing even this much to Cale. "It's not safe for anyone involved – including you – that I tell you more than I'm going to say," Zack finished his salad. "I'm telling you this much only because, from what I've seen of Max, she's going to fight this time, too, just as she fought leaving Seattle after that first time I came for her – and as hard she fought to come back here when she decided you needed her." He made a point to ignore the reaction he saw in response, in Cale's expression. "This time I'm asking her to come a lot further, for a lot longer – maybe this time, long enough and far enough that she won't want to leave afterward. It would be helpful if you made it clear to her that you want her gone, too."

Other than a slight working of his jaw, Cale showed no sign of emotion as he nodded. He started to respond but faltered a moment, and reached for his coffee cup. Taking a long draw on the brew, he set down the cup and nodded again, his demeanor carefully neutral. "Maybe..." he paused a moment to clear his throat, his voice suddenly rough and hoarse. "Maybe not that I want her gone ..." he said evenly, "but that it makes no difference to me whether she stays or goes."

With his words, he lifted his eyes to Zack's, sealing the deal. Zack nodded his approval, wondering what it might be like to have met this man under other circumstances, wondering that he was so willing to give up his own desires when they weren't in others' best interests. Not unlike what Max had done, going back into harm's way for him ... not unlike what like even he himself had done, to keep Max safe...

Zack sat back as the waiter appeared again, this time with their fish, clearing the table and serving their meals with silent efficiency. In this small break in their conversation, Zack watched Cale closely, looking for a chink in the armor. He never saw one. Instead, he saw the hint of mournful sadness, that aching loss, that he'd seen in full bloom in Max's eyes back at Cale's cabin.

Phony sentimentality, huh? he asked himself. Maybe it's just that you haven't let yourself find a connection, like these two have. Whatever they have ... it's anything but phony...

The waiter moved off, and Zack watched as Cale stared down at his plate. Swallowing once, hard, Logan slowly pushed the plate away an inch or so. He kept his eyes averted for another moment, but in the next, again lifted his eyes to look directly into Zack's, his control regained. Zack found himself at a loss for the proper response.

"Go ahead," Logan nodded toward Zack's plate, "you'll like it."

Zack hesitated only a moment before reaching up to carefully peel back the baker's parchment, the warm aroma of salmon and dill making his stomach growl in anticipation. He nodded and even affected a small smile. "Smells good," he agreed.

As he attacked his fish, they sat in silence, Cale soon opening his packet as well and pointedly moving the fish around the plate, making it look as if he ate, too. Zack knew there was nothing to be said that could make the man feel better, but was finally moved to offer something that might be of some small comfort. "We've been careful, and moved slowly. We've vetted all of it. It'll be safe..." he said, promising the man that the woman he loved would be away from all the danger she'd faced for so long. "Finally ... Max will get a chance to stop running." He looked up at Cale, again offering a hint of a smile. "Timing isn't bad, either," he shrugged. "Maybe it's all working out for the best."

Cale glanced away again, quickly, and pushed his salmon around a little more with his fork. "Yeah..." he said in a whisper so low Zack suspected only he would have been able to hear it. "It's all for the best..."

To be continued.