Choices

by Mystic25

UPDATE CHAPTER 28 SUMMARY: Jessie finally asks Max about her past

23. Training Day Part One

Choices 24- "Training Day"

SUMMARY: They are siblings, uncles, wives, mothers, lovers, friends – but before all of that they were soldiers, although there was never a chance to perfect that training as adults. But now – they have to.

RATING: PG14 for violence, language and mature content.

DISCLAIMER: James 'Big-Kahowna' Cameron owns the characters he made and/or mentioned in his series (which is called "Dark Angel" – he owns this as well, the greedy bastard)

A/N: There will a grand return of Ames White, I'll tell ya that much, also Lydecker is here too, cause those are some good characters and it's about time they merged.

A/N #2: I know that there was this whole White 'Sandeman' thing in Season 2. But I'm ignoring it on the grounds that my whole story won't make sense with it in place. Egg my story if you must but I hide under creative license.

XXXXXXX

SEATTLE-BRODSTREET BAR

SECTOR EIGHT

8: 35 PM

The pub was lively even at the early hour of eight p.m. when most of the city had five more minutes before they got off of work and only two hours before curfew. But the bartenders never complained because the early crowds always brought with them the best tips. The prostitutes that worked outside the bar were glad for that too because they enjoyed the same tips.

The bar was a typical grimy drinking hole, lit with beer lights and neon signs that bathed the drunken patrons in a swath of florescent pinks and yellows like a retro version of an abstract painting.

Somewhere in the smoke laden semi-darkness a beer bottle smashed and was followed by raucous laughter from the man who had just punched a kid for staring at his girl's rack. This was immediately followed by more laughter from others in the bar as the punchee crawled away to the men's room to splash water on his aching eye.

Just as the young man's shoulder made contact with the brown swinging restroom door, the front door of the bar was pulled open and a figure stepped inside. The person was so noticeably different to the usual clientele that men at all levels of being plastered stopped to gape.

The figure was small, a woman, with defined curves that fit into a pair of black slacks and a Chinese rickshaw's red silk shirt buttoned up to the collar, but it wasn't the clothes that caught attention of the men in the bar. There were many religious radicals wandering around Seattle who came into bars late at night. It was the woman herself that made their eyes bulge – because of her green tinged skin and shaven head that proudly showed off several maroon snake tattoos over it's bareness. Even her lips were the same pigment as her face and it surprised a few people who weren't near her when she started talking because they couldn't tell where the sound was coming from.

"Go back to your drinks gentlemen, what I'm here for is none of your concern." Her voice was forceful, but still feminine with a slight touch of a foreign accent that couldn't be directly traced to any country; but it sounded British with a touch of Arabic flare.

The men still stared at her as she walked past because even though she had just given them a direct order to fark off none of them could contain their curiosity. She continued walking until she reached the crudely fashioned bar made out of pinewood planks and sat down in an empty stool. She turned her brown-red eyes over to the barkeep who, like the others was gawking at her like she was a mutant that had crawled out of the sewer.

"Bloody Mary," The woman ordered her drink in the same commanding tone. "And if you can't figure out what to do with your eyes I will take them from you."

"I see you haven't lost your touch."

The woman turned to the sound of the male voice but she wasn't alarmed at what she saw sitting across from her dressed in a black business suit because she expected him to be there. "You're early."

"That's not a problem I trust?" The man was sitting erect in the stool beside her, popping peanuts from a wooden bowl on the bar like he had a fix for them. He was white, with a corporate-meets- military haircut and wore handsomeness like it was an accessory to his expensive Armani suit. His eyes were brown, but in the poor lighting they were almost black as he looked upon the visitor who had sat next to him.

"Why don't you stop the charade Ames?" The woman asked looking him full in the eyes and then began to speak another language entirely. "E'nos'tol N'ika me'ak ki'sa slaw'a ik'nita m'oah reah upinos iha'as." ("I would have liked to meet someplace more private then a drunken man's fantasy.") The sounds that came from her mouth was pronounced very much like the ancient language of Egyptians, articulated almost exactly like it with a few grammatical exceptions in the soundings of the words.

"P'ias'ka." ("Relax.") Ames White reassured, sticking another salted nut in between his teeth, speaking in the same mysterious language as her. "I'snos i'ta m'os no'sta rihika t'notras h'oh'ias uha'a t'ywha n'soba." ("It's not like these idiots can understand what we're saying anyway.")

The barkeep set down the Bloody Mary in front of the woman on top of a white paper napkin.

"Y'nosata l'kita cost'nata u'a bos'tik." ("You forgot the celery stick bitch.") Ames informed to the bartender coldly.

The man had no idea what the hell he was saying, so he said the only think he could think off, putting on a flimsy smile. "You're welcome. Enjoy your drinks."

"S'ua?" ("See?") Ames stated once the barkeep went to fill a tipsy man's last drink before he kicked him out. "I'kias h'uas h'kana n'ah wi'sata mo'ska'ia e'ha hi'e rhin'as isnosta lim'kasis hu'sat opis mo'rin hiu's." ("I could tell him he enjoys fucking his mother at night and he'd still give me that stupid smile.")

"P'losta hij'kata Enotsta." ("You've made your point Ames.") She took a healthy swig from her Bloody Mary, the tattoos on her neck and jugular moving at the drink going down her throat. Once she was done she licked some residue off of her lips revealing three pinhead sized stud piercings forming a vertical line down the center of her tongue. "K'sasta ipis'ona k'loa?" ("Has there been any progress?")

"J'ksas." ("Some.")"B'sika ma'taa enost'ah toak' sh'sa dn'sna" ("But he is a very hard man to track down.") "Ma'taa tn'iaka un'sa Ul'sta Ri'osna; ma'anas cn'as up'sa l'snas ("He was trained as an Army Ranger; he knows how to stay lost.")

"Ma'taa i'sa t'criksas k'snas is'nls 'iskna s'ksa Man'stankia si'bkin'da j'ka o'stada. ("He is a crucial key in finding the Manticore prototypes that have offspringed.")" W'nesa th'sas i'fa hu's P'stakia i'sa o'st u'nsika. Th'st d'staks co'slta is'tka co'sta." ("We need their DNA if the Project is to succeed.") "E'staka su'st col'inst'aa moaaki's. I'ta clo'kia f'oa en'stan." ("All the data has been gathered. It is now time to engage.")

"Su'ah hi'stol fi'dnos'ik ay'ua P'nosta." ("I will track him down Priestess.") Ames said matter-of-factly.

The woman finished off her drink and turned to Ames, a disbelieving look still on her face. "S'nos t'kia y'u d'sah." ("See that you do.") She paid for her drink and left the bar, the patrons parting to allow her to pass.

Once she was out of sight they whistled in disbelief. "Man was that some butt ugly broad or what? She looked like a dried up Guava melon." The man standing next to a pool table laughed at his own words.

"I know man," one of his friends agreed. "Did you see all those snake tattoos? Whoo weee! If I ever date a woman like that there better be something else major going down to knock me out of bein' insane."

"Don't worry gentlemen." White broke into their conversation as he made his way out of the bar. "There will be." All the men stopped talking and stared at him, not because he was an oddity like the Priestess, but because he had a certain way about him that they didn't want to mess with.

Before any of them could decipher what White meant by his remark he had pushed his way out of the door into the Seattle night. Once he was back on the street he pulled out a silver cell phone walking with slow steps back to his tan Lexus LSI. "Have you found anything?"

"Not yet Sir," came the response on the other end. "So far all of our leads have been dead-ends," a pause. "This isn't some kid off the street we're looking for Ames."

"I already know that." White grumbled angrily. "I don't want any more excuses. The only thing I want is Colonel Lydecker in restraints back at HQ, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir."

"Then make it happen." White disconnected the call.

XXXXXXXX

CRASH - 9:00 PM

"Hey Maxie!" Zane jumped down the rest of the stairs that led to the back room of Crash. "My all, my partner in crime!" He hugged Max before she had the chance to object.

"How much have you been drinkin'?" Max asked after the hugged ended.

"Nothing." Zane insisted. "What? I can't show affection to my sister without being wasted? You wound me Max, you really do."

"Yeah, and I'm about to wound you next if you don't shut up." Jondy warned. She was still sitting at a table drinking her beer, because she didn't think Zane's arrival was important enough to warrant the fanfare of standing up.

"Jondy, give us a hug!" Zane dropped down on her and hugged her from behind.

"Boy, get yourself and your multiple personalities off me!" Jondy pushed Zane away.

Zane feigned a wounded look, slapping his hand to his collarbone for drama. "I feel so unloved."

"Aww baby," Krit threw his arms around Zane. "Don't worry, I'll love you."

"God man that's sick-" Zane complained yanking Krit's arms from around him. "Go hump a lamp post if you're that anxious."

"Looks like I missed the start of the party." Syl's voice reached their ears as she came down the stairs holding a bag filled with two cases of Malt liquor.

"Syl!" Zane exclaimed hurrying over to her like a child to his toys on Christmas morning.

"Don't even think about giving me any of your over zealous lovin' Zane." Syl cautioned, carefully making her way down the stairs. "I hauled this stuff all the way from Sector One and if you make me drop it I'm gonna drop you understand?" She reached the bottom of the stairs and set the brown paper bag on the first empty table that she could find.

"You bring the booze?" Zack asked from his standing position beside Max.

"No Commander." Syl said, starting to open one of the bags. "This is just a really big pregnancy test."

"Either way let's get started with this X5 reunion." Krit said with a smirk on his face.

"Keep it down," Jondy hissed, glaring at her brother. "I'd appreciate it if your big mouth didn't advertise who we are so anyone can exploit us."

"Girl relax," Zane insisted. "I doubt we're arousing anyone's suspicion. Hell no one here's even heard of X5's-"

"Shh," Jondy cut in waving her arms in to get him to shut up.

Zane looked around at the groups hanging out by the pool table and the flocks of guys at the bar trying to attract attention from any female that walked within three feet of them. None of them made any moves to Zane's earlier statement, because none of them really cared about anyone's business but their own. "Oh no Jondy! We're fucked. Here comes Lydecker, here come the foot soldiers," he laughed a bit at his own sarcasm. Illegal activity went on at Crash all the time. No one would seriously consider ratting out anyone else for fear of retribution. Basically they all lived under the 'don't ask don't tell" policy. "You think there's a recon squad ready to make a bust on this place on the off chance we might be stopping by? Seriously little sister; why can't you just let loose and be a drunk party girl, like Syl."

Syl pitched the paper bag at Zane's head. "Who else brought stuff Crash can't supply?"

"Mine's already tapped." Zane pointed to the floor beside his chair where a metal keg sat, filled with whiskey he had fermented himself.

"Sorry girl," Max apologized to Syl. "I'm only good for the watered down rounds here. I haven't bought alcohol in months since Lucy was born."

"Maxie shut up and let's see it," Syl ordered not believing her.

Max reached down next to Jondy and held up a corked wine bottle that Syl took from her.

"1985 Chateaux Zinfandel." Syl read the label, very pleased at what it was. "God bless that rich husband of yours for bein' so liquor conscious." She uncorked the bottle and it made a loud popping sound. "I think we should have our first hit from this."

"This calls for a toast." Krit began giving a speech, "Not only just for our X5 get together, but for Maxie who just had another baby." Krit turned to Max. "To you little sister I say congratulations, and get your tubes tied, and let me do it." He wagged his eyebrows at her.

Max knocked him upside the head a second later. "Sorry, my hand tends to slip when my brother wants to stick his hand up my female anatomy."

"Geez try to congratulate a girl and this is what you get." Krit complained, rubbing the sore area around his eye where Max had hit him. "I am glad for you though Maxie. You make a great mom."

"Thanks," Max responded with a small smile.

"Just don't let Zack deliver the next one, 'cause there are plenty of other ways to warp a kid."

"Keep it up Krit and I'll show you my way to warp an adult." Zack threatened, taking the wine bottle from Syl and taking a healthy swig from it.

"Well now that the ceremony's over lets gets down to business." Zane said, pouring glasses of whiskey from his keg. He handed one of the drinks to Tinga, who was leaning up against the end of a table in her maroon leather jacket and a pair of black jeans.

"This didn't fall off the back of a truck did it?" Tinga asked, tilting the glass in her hand so she could see the whisky from every angle.

"No," Zane reassured. "What I present to you is premium quality alcohol fermented right in my bathtub."

"Great, that makes me feel so at ease." Tinga sniffed the whiskey, trying to decide whether or not it would poison her. When she finally came to the conclusion that she couldn't tell if she would die from it, she took a tentative sip from the glass. "Damn." She coughed at the strength of the alcohol. "You could smell colors with this shit."

"Isn't it awesome?" Zane smirked. "I got the yeast from this run down bakery. It was already starting to ferment so that gave this batch a little extra kick."

"Keep it moving," Krit ordered. "Some of the rest of us want to kill brain cells too." He took an almost full glass Tinga offered him and glared at Zack half a second later. "Don't even start with the idiot jokes with me Zack, I'm not a nice drunk." He downed half of the booze hissing like a snake at the taste.

"Okay Krit's still alive guys," Zane explained. "So let's stop being so bashful." He held up a glass in front of Max. "Bottoms up baby sister."

"Sorry Zane my taste for alcohol has grown more sophisticated then the mildewy bathtub fermented variety," Max apologized, pushing the noxious smelling liquid away from her. She didn't know how many nights it had stayed in Zane's scummy bathtub and she didn't want to know either.

"Of course it has Maxie," Syl agreed. "You only appreciate the kind of alcohol that is left on Logan's breath when you two hit it."

There was a round of laughter from the X5's, and Max looked at them sheepishly but not embarrassed. "Hey don't get mad at me cause I can find satisfaction and some of you are still usin' your hands."

"Hey I always use my hands Maxie," Jondy defended. "How else can you jerk a guy's chain without one?"

"So seriously Jondy how big is your chain, I mean do you have to use both hands?" Krit threw out. He wasn't drunk; he was just messing with her and knew he was about to get it for that one.

"We all can't just save our little finger for our stroking like you Krit." Jondy snapped back with a huge grin on her face, watching Krit grimace at the direct blow to his manhood.

"C'mon Jondy over inflate him a little," Zane stated. "He might want to procreate someday."

"I don't see women lining up in the streets for that." Zack corrected, taking a hit from a beer mug he just picked up.

"That's because they're all waiting for you when Asha's not around." Krit laughed, but realized he had gone too far when Zack set his mug down and looked like he was about to attack him.

"Guys knock it off!" Syl stepped in-between her brothers before they could come to blows. "As far as I'm concerned Maxie and Tinga are the only ones in this group that can have anything to say about gettin' procreation right okay?"

"Yeah c'mon ladies go back to your drinks and leave the blows till after I'm outta range of oncoming blood." Jondy added, sliding back into her seat and propping her feet up on the chair in front of her. "Honestly, X5 males. Can't live with them, can't shoot them without exposure."

"Speaking of X5 males," Jondy looked over her shoulder to see the rugishly handsome form of Alec coming down the steps in a tan flight jacket and black biker pants. She didn't hide the pleasing roam over the way he fit so well into his clothes. "He's related to us right?"

"He's X5 girl," Syl answered. "So yeah."

"Damn," Jondy cursed, not hiding her dissatisfaction. "Stupid chromosomes." She watched Alec come all the way down the stairs and right up to where they were sitting.

"Thanks for saving my seat for me." Alec stated in his casual voice, like they were old friends.

"Well all the boys with style were out so I decided what the hell?" Jondy said without a hint of a smile. Even though she was attracted to Alec she wasn't going to admit it straight out.

"Would you mind moving your feet?" Alec asked in more of an order then a question. "Unless you get kinky this way."

"Eww no boy," Jondy snapped disgusted. "Those are my Anna Klein kicks you're talkin' about." She pulled her legs off of the chair, giving up her footstool to Alec, who slid into the seat a moment later.

"What the hell are you doing here anyway?" Zack growled. He never liked Alec. "This is a private party."

"This is an X5 reunion right?" Alec asked over his shoulder, not waiting for Zack to answer, and not expecting him to either. "And the last time I checked, slick, I was an X5."

Zack's anger went up one more notch. "You're in the wrong unit little soldier."

"And you're talking to the wrong soldier with your little unit-" Alec snapped.

Zack was about to make a move but Syl grabbed his shoulder with a firm lock of her hand. "I came in here to drink not see Foxy Boxing. You boys just need to chill." She released her grip on Zack and grabbed her beer mug from the table gulping from it like she was in a fraternity contest.

"The X5 womenfolk have spoken gentleman. I suggest you heed the order while you still have a good hold on your nuts." Zane laid this bit of advice on Alec and Zack while taking a big gamble in his own ability to make whiskey by drinking an almost full glass in one shot. He coughed a second later, but a slow smile came to his face. "Seriously kids, go find yourselves a good lay and give her a shot of this. She'll be too lightheaded to refuse anything."

Alec glanced over to Max with a smug smile on his face. "Wanna give the potent potable a spin Maxie? You might just get lucky."

"You're outta luck Alec," Max stated not turned on by his eyebrow wagging gaze. "Zane's right. You need get laid, but make sure it's a woman you can make it with in this post Pulse world."

"Ouch, still hitting dips in your hormone levels Max?" Alec quipped.

"You want me to hit a dip in your hormone level stud?" Jondy retorted looking squarely at Alec's nuts, not staring at it like she wanted to blow him, but more like she wanted to rip him out bare handed and roast it on a spit for his sexist remark against her sister.

"Your place or mine Jondy?" Alec responded, gracing her with the grin he had just given Max.

Jondy sighed, but didn't look uninterested. "I don't have a place here boy. So I'd go for yours, unless you don't have a problem with doing it behind a dumpster." She smiled slow and pleasing, letting her closed lips finish the rest of the remark.

"Hey I have no qualms with being dirty," Alec informed.

"Jondy-" Tinga called her sister trying to get her out of what she considered a sick situation.

"I'm workin' Tinga!" Jondy snapped back, leaning back into to her chair with a smile that would make even the most uptight prude want her.

"If you work any harder little sister you're gonna have illegitimate offspring to deal with." Zack told her.

Jondy shot him a look, but shut up on her moves with Alec, turning to face her drink like it was something wonderful to behold. "Since you all have a thing for crappin' on my fun I'm gonna settle on getting drunk and handing out lap dances."

"Good thing I brought singles," Krit commented.

Zane laughed, even though he looked disgusted. "We need to find Krit some action with a nice call girl before he inbreeds."

"Hey I'm all about keeping me from contaminating the DNA." Krit agreed, drinking from his mug again with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, but it was killed a second later when he spotted a woman walking into the bar from the pool room at Crash. She was of Hispanic origin with long brown hair that hung way past the collar of a camel colored suede jacket, and she had a face that gave Krit an overwhelming feeling that he's seen her before.

The woman was silent as she walked in, but as soon as she made it over to the tables she started speaking in a calm casual tone to them like she had known the X5's all her life. "I see you guys started the party without me."

It took Max all of three seconds to realize who the woman was and while the others were busy multitasking on the identification of the visitor, she stepped forward with a smile that could only be brought on when spotting one of her siblings. "Jace-"

All the other X5's stared at Jace in stunned silence when the X5 approached Max. "I'm glad to see you Max," Jace hugged the other woman. "I had a hell of a time tracking you down and I almost thought I'd gotten the wrong place until I saw your face down here." She pulled away from Max to look at the faces of people she hadn't seen since she was a kid, not knowing what to say to them after all this time. "C'mon guys, say something. I'll even take threats."

"When did they let you out of Manticore?" Zack broke the silence, observing Jace like she was an enemy. She had stayed behind during the escape and any child who grew to adult status at Manticore was tainted with their military ideology.

"They didn't let me out," Jace corrected. "I got deployed for a mission but Max helped me escape before I had to go back for debriefing."

"Since when does one soldier help a traitor escape into the world?" Zack's words were harsh, angry and directed both at Max and at Jace. "You just expect us to believe you left base command after you didn't have the balls to do it the first time?"

"This time was different," Jace defended quickly. She hadn't come here to be interrogated.

"How?" Zack spat. "You suddenly got tired of betraying your family?" He stepped over to Jace and glared at her as if she wasn't fit to be standing right in front of him. "What? You decided that cozying up to us before you report back to base is 'different' enough to get you back in the club?"

"Things are different," Jace defended hostilely. "You may wanna throw me out, but if you just shut up for five seconds I'll show you the difference I'm talking about." She walked around the tables and back the room where the pool tables sat, ducking behind a wall. After a few seconds she emerged only this time she wasn't alone – in her arms was a small dark haired little boy about five-years-old.

Jace stopped in front of them with the child in her arms who was clinging to her upper body tightly. "This is Max." She stroked his hair, which was the same color as hers. "He's my son. He's the reason I had to leave Manticore."

Max stared at the child who was her namesake; the kid Jace had promised would be named after her. "You had a little boy," The boy was looking at her through large brown eyes that were almost black, matching his dark black shirt and blue overalls.

"In a small birthing center in Mexico," Jace told her, going for the facts of her son's birth. "I wanted to get back up here for years to show him to you, but things got kinda hairy when the border police of the country wouldn't let anyone out because of the riots and I didn't want to risk public exposure-"

"He's beautiful." Max cut in, reaching out her hand to touch the boy's head.

"Thanks," Jace took the compliment with a small smile as she looked at her son. "This is your Aunt Max kiddo. She's where I got your name from."

"You've passed initiation Jace," Zane insisted from his seat. "We all may be paranoid as hell but no X5 mother would gun it all the way up here from Mexico with her child if she was on the take. My advice would be for you to take a seat and get smashed with the rest of us."

"You'd have to be Zane," Jace told him walking over to the man. "No one else could pull off that kind of drunken insistence."

"I missed you too Jace," Zane said standing up to hug her.

The tension was broken by Zane's hug, and all the other X5's began coming forward to offer their love.

"Hey little sister," Tinga approached her.

Jace fell into the hug. "Tinga," She pulled back after a minute to stare at the older woman. "You look great."

Tinga smiled for a moment, "You look pretty hot yourself girl."

"Save some of the smokin' lovin' for my lonely arms." Krit insisted pushing his way in front of Tinga to hug Jace before she got the chance to say anything.

"Krit," Jace fell into the hug, piecing together who it was instantly. "You haven't changed at all."

"But you have my sister and that's the problem-"

"Krit I can smack you from this range," Jace warned then stole a glance at her son. "Max here wouldn't mind mommy showing him some useful moves, would ya baby?"

"Block with your left mommy," Max told his mother in a high little boy voice that was coated with a slight Spanish accent from living in Mexico his whole life.

"I see you've taught him the skills early," Zack said in muted anger. He had yet to come and hug Jace. He wasn't a believer that someone could just change after willingly staying in Manticore after the opportunity to escape had been presented.

Jace looked up into his blue eyes. "You must be Zack," She scanned his body up and down and not like a sister – but like a woman who was checking him out. "I always knew you'd grow up to be that sexy. Too bad you'd never let a woman get close enough to tell you that."

"Get your swerve on somewhere else Jace," Zack warned.

"I was making an observation, not an offer Zack," Jace defended aggressively. "You can hate me and call me an incesting slut all you want but bottom line is you couldn't handle what I throw down." She cut into silence and looked to her son. "You wanna go get something to drink handsome?"

Max nodded his head becoming shy for a moment but then came out of it. "Can I have ice?"

"Sure kiddo if we can find some," Jace reassured.

"I'll get it," Max told her. "You take a load off and get reacquainted." She looked down to her namesake. "You wanna come with me sweetie?"

The boy smiled. "To get ice right?"

Max returned his smile; he was so cute to her with large brown eyes and an X5's way with words. "If that's what you want." She took him from Jace who gave him up without reluctance.

"If he talks your ear off just shove some ice down his throat," Jace teased.

"I don't think that'll be a problem," Max reassured smiling at her nephew. "I like the chatter of a handsome man." She carried him through the crowd to the bar where the bartender was busy rinsing out a pitcher and glasses from his last customers.

"There's a lot of bottles back there," the boy proclaimed to Max.

"Yeah there are," she agreed pointing them out to him. "And they're pretty too."

"Hey Day Care Max," the bartender called out to her. "What can I get you?"

"Just a pitcher of ice water Jayson. It's the only thing in here besides the coffee that doesn't have alcohol."

"Commin' up," Jayson said with a smile. He had been working at Crash for years and Max was a regular he always enjoyed seeing. He had hit on her a few times, but her friend Original Cindy always ended it because she insisted Max had someone even though Jayson didn't see anyone with her. But a few months after that Max would come into Crash with this guy and it became evident that they were involved when Max began sporting a wedding band at the bar. He still found her so hot and alluring that he wanted her but he decided he was better off being her friend then fantasying about a relationship he would never have.

"Thought I heard your voice boo," Original Cindy crossed the hardwood floor that was laid out a good twenty feet in front of the bar. She was dressed in a brown suede halter-top and a pair of leather pants. "Figured you'd be too busy catching up on the latest news with your family to come out and play with your girl."

"I'm a multitasking kind of girl," Max informed. "And it's not like you're not part of my family too."

Cindy smiled at the compliment because she felt the same way. She looked at the child her girl was holding. "You and Logan didn't slip a kid under the radar did you?"

"This is Max," Max said proudly glancing at the boy she was holding. "He's Jace's son."

"Your girl that lives down in El Mexico?" Cindy asked watching Max's eyes give away the answer. She looked at the child her boo was holding. "He's a straight up cutie that's for sure."

"I know," Max agreed. "If we weren't already related I'd marry him in a second." She kissed the side of her nephew's head.

"You might have some competition on that," Cindy informed as Max grabbed the pitcher of water after Jayson set it in front of her.

"You're welcome to hang with us if ya want," Max insisted.

"No boo. It's a family thing. I'd just be in the way."

"No ya wouldn't," Max disagreed. "I already told you you're my family as much as they are. Besides, I need you to make sure Alec doesn't try to put the moves on someone he's genetically linked too."

"Kay I'm in," Cindy agreed after hearing that. "I mean somebody's gotta keep that boy in line. I was hangin' with Sketchy but he bolted to go talk to this honey he saw camped out at the bar."

Max sighed. "And why hasn't Natalie left him yet?" Sketchy's girlfriend had put up with him through a broken engagement, and several flings with other women. The boy even went so far as to hit on a girl at Crash last month with Natalie only a few feet away. Max loved Sketchy but he really needed to learn to keep all his nuts in one basket.

"Sugah I don't even wanna speculate," Cindy notified. "Some sistah's just love their man too much to try and leave him even if he is a no good cheatin' dog."

"Dogs belong in the pound," little Max spoke up in his boyish voice that would appeal to the emotions of any softhearted person.

"Definitely," Max agreed. "We need more men like you hun," She gave the boy another quick kiss, this time on his forehead. "Let's go find mommy before she starts sending out a recon unit for ya."

Max and Cindy headed back over to the tables where all the X5's were lounged all over. Zane immediately stood up upon seeing Original Cindy. Max's siblings and Cindy had become friends over the years and they considered her one of their own. "Hey, my best girl is joining the party."

"Zane I thought I was your best girl," Syl complained.

"You keep that thought Syl – 'ow'" Zane rubbed the back of his head where Syl had knocked him on the head with her hand. "No violence dear sister unless of course you and Max want to go off on each other. I could totally get into that."

"Shut up idiot," Syl ordered kicking his chair. After she was done she looked up to Original Cindy. "Pull up a chair girl; just don't indulge the animals."

"I say he's indulged himself enough," Cindy stated sliding into a vacant chair next to Alec.

"Wow does this mean I get your phone number now?" Alec said to Cindy with a wagged eyebrow look after she sat beside him.

"Fool get up off me before I put you in a world of hurt," Cindy shoved at Alec's shoulder with her hand that caused Alec to just laugh quietly because he knew Cindy was just messing around.

"All right woman, relax. Consider it a compliment that the gender group you don't find appealing thinks you're hot." Alec said.

"Just past the beer Romeo, before I smack that smile off your face," Cindy ordered holding out her hand to receive her drink.

Alec slid it into her hand a few seconds later. "Anything to please my lady." He looked up from his beer a second later to scope out a well proportioned blonde – in sand blasted jeans and a double layer red and white button up long sleeved shirt – walking across the bar. "Speaking of pleasing a lady-"

Asha descended on the group a few seconds later feeling Alec's eyes on her. "Is there something you wanted Alec or am I just for show?"

"No Asha you're definitely not for show," Krit announced. "And there's plenty of things we want from you," he broke off when he saw the glare Zack was shooting him. "Relax Zack I'm messing around-" Krit laughed briefly. "Look at him he thinks I'm serious. God Zack you're such a trip."

"Want to take a trip into the wall Krit?" Zack growled.

"Would you two just shut up?" Max ordered, handing off her nephew to Jace. She glanced over to Jondy. "What was it you were saying earlier?"

"Shooting X5 males can lead to exposure, blah blah. Some kind of shit like that." Jondy replied.

"How about we take the risk?" Max asked.

"I'm game," Jondy agreed.

The ring of a cell phone cut through the air.

"Guess who?" Zane said as Max went to answer her phone. "He's probably checking up to make sure we're all still only brothers and sisters."

"Zane?" Max said.

"Yes Maxie?" Zane responded.

"If you want to still be my brother and not my sister shut it," She answered the call. "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing really," Logan's voice responded. "I mean nothing that I can do with you over the phone."

A ripple of desire went through Max's body. After enduring six weeks of forced celibacy Max was aching so bad to be with him that she had to splash cold water on herself when it got bad. She wasn't a horny slut, but when her doctor gave her the okay to act on her desires she wanted to dead bolt Logan into their bedroom and not come out for a week. But that was five days ago and they still hadn't found an opportune time to be together. Between the kids, Max's job, Eyes Only broadcasts and the daily watch out for black helicopter men, they could never find sufficient time to do everything they wanted. This X5 reunion was important to Max but she also wanted it to be over soon so she could do something else that was also important to her.

"You'd be surprised what I can do over the phone," Max said in quiet insistence.

"Spank it baby!" Zane hooted saluting her with his beer bottle.

Logan heard the commotion from his end. "Be honest with me. How drunk are they?"

"We don't do 'drunk' Logan."

"Okay then, can you give an estimated ranking on how far they've progressed to the phase where they would mistake a potted plant for a make-out partner?"

"I'll have get back to you on that," Max returned a smile playing on her lips. "See you at home."

"That's not what I had in mind, but yeah. I can see you first if you want."

Max bit back on the whimper that tried to escape her lips and ended the call.

"Max-"

Her name being called caused Max glance up confused because the voice didn't belong in the crowd that she was with. At first she thought she it was a missight on her part, but then she realized that that was idiotic cause she had excellent vision. Then she was just left with trying to comprehend why she was seeing whom she saw.

Jondy turned her head to the sound of the boy calling her sister's name. "Who's the stick?" The man was incredibly thin and had a sloppily done Pageboy like haircut that stuck to his square white face above thin blue eyes.

"You don't wanna know," Max managed to get out before the guy made his way over to her. "Eric."

Eric – a conquest boy during one of Max's heat cycles – was now staring at the woman he hadn't seen since he had taken upon himself to break off their non-existent relationship. "Wow, it's great to see you again."

"Yeah, you too," Max agreed forcing down a grimace. Eric wasn't a bad guy, not like Darren. He was just one confused man that Max wanted to hit it with in a fit of Heat induced passion. She could understand his getting his signals crossed since she never told him that he fell asleep on her bed before anything went down. But she thought the issue had been dropped years ago. Eric had 'broken up' with her and she had gotten serious with Logan – that was that. She never thought she would actually meet up with the guy again.

"You've been busy?" Eric asked. He obviously still harbored some desires towards her by the way he talked. She was the greatest woman he had ever been with and he didn't just stop thinking about her after it was over.

"She's been busy bein' married boy if that's what you're askin'" Original Cindy chimed in, matter-of-fact.

"And let's not forget about the seeds," Zane insisted, staring down this 'Eric' that was talking to his sister. A weak specimen in his book. "So yeah I'd say she's been real busy Eric,"

Max cut Zane a low menacing glare.

"Allow me," Jondy stated, leaning over the table to slap Zane upside the head.

"Wow Max-" Eric was becoming tongue tied at the new information. "I mean that's great. Married. Kids. The whole deal. How many, I mean if I'm not out of line asking?"

"Three," Max told him.

Eric cringed like Max had just insulted the size of his package before ramming her foot into it. "Ouch. I guess I really missed my chance."

"Yeah sorry about that boy," Jondy stated. "But life goes on turn, turn, turn. I've been made an aunt four times, no wait, make that five. You learn to roll with the changes."

"Your sister-" Eric directed the question at Max but Zane responded.

"You're quick," Zane informed. "But I guess you've heard that before."

Max glared over her shoulder. "Boy call off you dogs, kay?" she looked back to Eric. "Sorry - my brother. His ass and his mouth wires get crossed sometimes."

"Hey I understand," Eric said somewhat dejectedly. He was feeling guilty for letting Max go when he did. Things might have worked out differently. He glanced around the people in the room who were staring at him like he had just wandered in to rob them.

"It really was great seein' you again," Max tried to boost Eric's sprits up. He was a mistake to hook up with during heat but she didn't want to smash his sense of self completely. "Who knows, if you hadn't dumped me maybe it would've been different."

"Yeah maybe," Eric agreed his voice lowering to the tone of a man defeated. "I moved to Portland but I'm here visiting a friend-"there was a hint of authority in his weak sounding voice. "Maybe I could meet your husband. See if he's up to standards – for you I mean. You're too special to be with just anyone Max."

Max had to smile at Eric's crack at chivalry. "I'll get back to you on that."

Eric seemed relieved. "Great, well I won't hold you up anymore." He looked over to Zane. "Your family's – interesting."

As he walked away Jondy's eyes were on him the whole time. "Not half as interesting as you are Giligan." She looked back to Max with an expression that demanded answers. "Why did you just extend an invite for that bean pole to hang with you and Logan? It's not like you owe him a favor or slept with him or anything-" Max's expression just about made Jondy tip over in her chair. "You slept with him? What the hell for? What's there to bang on that skinny ass?"

"We didn't hit it okay," Max defended. "I was in heat and picked him up. But he fell asleep before anything happened."

"He must've been tuckered, the little scamp," Alec quipped.

"I was in heat – heat guys," Max clarified. "It's not like I had a choice in what I did."

"See that's the part I don't get," Syl stated. "We have feline DNA which makes us go into heat. But the purpose of heat is to find a suitable pair of Y-chromosomes to procreate with. And that usually narrows the field down to the males with the most attractive and virile outside appearance cause that's an indication that they have the best genes to produce strong offspring. So why then would you go after something like that?"

"Nothing happened," Max reiterated. "And just because he isn't some drop dead stud doesn't mean he can't be attractive to the female sex. Looks aren't everything remember?"

"Tell that to my eyes," Syl complained. "Honestly Max, I'm sorry. He may be a sweetheart but heat wants the same thing as one night stands wants. Hot, deep and ripped."

"I can't argue with you on that," Asha added on, stealing a glance at Zack. "I mean not that I had any one night stands recently."

"Do I look like I care?" Zack returned.

"Okay fine-" Asha returned. "Krit strip down and let's go."

"All right, spite sex I'm in!" Krit jumped up when Asha started to leave but she didn't go very far because Zack yanked her back.

"Shut up."

"Why Zack and here I thought you didn't care," Asha remarked. Zack was about to say something else but she effectively shut him up with a kiss that kept his mouth from opening.

"Damnit must you foil all my fantasies Zack?" Krit grumbled. "Where is my hottie?"

"Deflated under your bed," Zane reminded.

"Zane don't be stupid you can't fit under my bed," Krit reminded sarcastically.

"Now I remember why I missed this," Jace informed holding back a full-fledged laugh by sheer will power. X5's weren't suppose to laugh, they were serious, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

"I missed you too my little Mexican salsa platter," Krit wagged his eyebrows at Jace before she punched him and sent him flying backwards on the floor.

Jace didn't hit him hard, but Krit still fell because he had been sitting tilted on the back of his chair and gravity won out. "Sorry Chico, but this Mexican salsa platter packs one hell of a punch."

XXXXXXXXX

The small noodle stand blended almost invisibly into Southside Market's vast line of stalls, which sold everything from food to hocked Rolexes to human placenta. The streets were still packed even so close to curfew. The people would clear out only when a Sector Cop's warning shot fired above their heads.

The noodle shack was nothing special – planks serving as a counter and all the cooking being done on a two eye hot plate by a weather worn Chinese woman dressed in multiple blankets to ward off the cold. Her single customer sat fishing out the remainder of his egg noodles with a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks. He was a middle-aged man with graying hair and narrow eyes. These features were set into a face with a firm jaw and stone-faced brow that exuded a powerful authorativness and a muted but fully recognizable handsomeness.

"Sir! Colonel Lydecker!"

The sound of someone calling Deck's name made him look up from the remains of his dinner. He took time to meticulously wipe his mouth with a white silk handkerchief while he watched a twenty something man in a power suit run towards him like he had just gotten off the train after World War II. "Do I know you?"

The man broke his run and stood directly in front of Lydecker. "You are Colonel Lydecker right Sir?"

Deck folded up his handkerchief and tucked it back into the pocket of his black leather flight jacket. He stood up from the plastic stool he had been sitting at and although the other man was several inches taller then him, it was clear that Deck was more intimidating. "Why don't you skip the formalities?" Deck placed a five-dollar bill on the counter to pay for the noodles. "If you didn't know who I was you wouldn't be so excited to have found me." Deck's eyes bore right into the younger man's. "Now why don't you just tell me what you want?"

The man pulled out a concealed weapon from his jacket pocket. "You're going to have to come with me Sir."

Deck stared at the gun for an instant, but he wasn't intimidated by it. "Is that all that's ordering me to go with you?" He slid his hand into his jacket to reach for his own Beretta.

"I wouldn't advise that," the man spoke out hearing the sounds of footsteps behind him as more men in suits emerged from the crowed and all locked handguns on Lydecker. "Now Sir, I'm asking you again, please come with us before something drastic has to be done."

All of the men's guns were small arms, Sig Sauers, Glocks, nothing extremely advanced, but the fact that there were a lot of men with loaded guns aimed at Lydecker made him realize that he was screwed – at least for the time being. "Well since you asked so politely how can I refuse?"

"We don't have time for this Sir," the man was losing his short amount of patience. His gun was aimed lower, pointing directly at Deck's member beneath his pants, trying to induce fear in the older man so he would quit acting like being held at gun point didn't bother him.

But Deck was equal to this. He placed his hand on the muzzle of the gun and slowly lifted it back up to chest level. "I'm not in a position to resist your direct order son, but I suggest you save your blow job for another night." He pushed ahead of the man, eyeing the others who had their weapons locked on his chest. "If you're running the show gentlemen you'd better get started before daylight hits."

The first man broke out of his trance and placed his gun between Deck's shoulder blades. "Let's go Sir." He shoved the Colonel forward and towards a waiting black van that was hidden in the shadows.

XXXXXXX

CRASH - 10:00 PM

The partygoers all started shuffling out of the bar, having been forced out by the owner who was getting a hard rap from the Sector Police by keeping the place open after curfew.

Jace stretched her arms above her head and cracked her neck letting out a low guttural moan as her movement worked out the kink in her muscles.

"That's what I like to hear," Krit called out several feet away on the sidewalk on the way to his bike. "Women enjoying themselves."

"Boy you're about three seconds away from manual castration," Jace warned, but she had mirth in her voice. It had been a typical X5 get together, complete with drinking, lewd jokes and suggestions of incest. But Jace loved every second of it, cause it was home for her. "But I'll spare your nuts if you let me and Max crash with you tonight."

"Sorry," Krit apologized. "Not that I don't have my fantasies but when I'm on the road I live wherever I can cram my bike, tonight it's lookin' like an alleyway behind a lap dance theatre."

"Why doesn't surprise me?" Jace shook her head in disgust. "Zane, how about you? Put a girl up for the night?"

"No can do my sistah," Zane informed stepping out onto the curb. "My home is back in LA and I like to leave my rented bed freed up in case I get lucky with a fine lady."

"Hey I'm a fine lady," Jace argued.

"I agree baby, but it can't be done." Zane corrected. "I have no food that isn't expired or chunky, that kid of yours would starve before sunup."

"Tinga?" Jace turned to her sister.

"Sorry hun, if I get home early enough I'll definitely get lucky." Tinga responded.

"You guys suck!" Jace complained picking up her son who had started to wobble from being sleepy. "If I'm emaciated and sleep deprived in the morning I'm holding all of you responsible."

"You can crash with me," Max suggested fishing out the keys to her Ninja.

"Yeah Maxie like you don't want to get lucky tonight!" Zane insisted. "You need it the most out of all of us. Six weeks is a death sentence."

"No Zane coming in contact with my fist is a death sentence." Max argued raising her arm in a display of hostility.

"Meow," Krit hissed retracting fake claws.

Max ignored him and turned to Jace. "Your ride close buy?"

Jace nodded. "It's parked behind the alleyway. I covered it cause chop shop dealers always eye it for parts."

"How cherry are we talkin' here?" Zane asked. Cars were his first love; women and everyone else came second.

"2019 Mitsubishi Spider. Chrome. Turbo thrust. 235 mph maximum." Jace answered. Her car was as important to her as Max's motorcycle.

"Dayum," Zane acknowledged. "On second thought maybe you should come with me. I could make it home in five minutes with those kind of wheels."

"Sorry Zane she got the luck of the draw," Max admonished. "But if you're real nice I'm sure Jace will let you touch it one day."

Jace's smile was illuminated by the orange streetlamp that cast a muted diagonal glow across her face. "Thanks." She was talking to Max this time. "Are you sure your husband won't mind?"

"He's use to unexpected guests," Max reassured. "And you're family. I won't let him say no."

XXXXXXXXXXX

FOGLE TOWERS

"So this is your version of asking 'honey can I invite my sister and her son over for the night?' Logan asked. He was standing with Max in the kitchen watching her poor milk in a glass for her nephew. Lucy was tucked up against his shoulder having been awaken from her sleep in need of a diaper change and a bottle.

"You plannin' on kickin' her out?" Max asked placing the plastic milk jug back in the refrigerator.

"Of course not," Logan insisted. "She's your sister after all and Max is your nephew."

"Okay then," Max stated. "And for the record he's your nephew too."

"Yes Auntie Max," Logan returned teasingly.

"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment baby, but Uncle Logan better shut his mouth if he doesn't want Auntie Max to smack it lopsided." She walked out of the kitchen and left him to follow her to the living room where –in front of the leather couch – little Max was busy playing with Jessie and his racecars.

"You in the mood for a pit stop sweetie?" Max offered the glass to her nephew.

The boy didn't even look up from his playing when he accepted the milk. He drank so fast that he spilt some down his shirt.

"Ease up baby okay?" Jace warned gently. "I just washed that shirt and you only have one other one."

Max slid into the vacant spot beside her sister. "The accommodations okay?"

Jace blew off the question. "I'm sitting in a high rise penthouse over looking the Steklar Tower. This is a thousand levels above what I'm use to." She watched her son play with Jessie, smiling at the way they crashed the toy cars together in pretend head on collisions. "I'm not the only one with a beautiful son," she looked up to Lucy and then down to Lexi who was crouched by the couch watching her brother and her cousin play. "-and daughters. Makes me kinda jealous."

"You got it just as good as me," Max insisted.

"But you did it right Maxie," Jace returned. "I mean you married the man you love and had children with him," she broke off to take a long look at her son. "But Victor's gonna live out the rest of his life never knowin' he's got a son."

Max's eyes softened. She had promised Jace she would get in touch with her boy, but after Manticore was destroyed all off the personnel were scattered throughout the United States. Many later made the news for 'accidental deaths'. Max had looked, but had no luck. Victor might have changed his name to severe all ties with Manticore. "I tried to find him-"

Jace shook her head to silence her. "He was a part of Manticore's infrastructure. When the base dismantled they sent every one of their techs through re-education. The only thing that would've saved him is if he managed to escape immediately after the attack when it was still chaotic."

"Maybe he did," Max agreed. "He sounds like a smart man."

Jace's lips parted to form a word but she soon changed her mind so nothing but air came out. "My little man needs to turn in for the night," She watched Max intently as he scooted a red toy car across the hardwood floor. After escaping Manticore she was fiercely protective of him even before he was born. The women at the birthing center had been kind enough but Jace left an hour after giving birth. She saved most of the money she had gotten from Logan and managed to buy a one-room apartment in an old but still livable neighborhood ten miles outside of Mexico City. She had barely enough money to feed her and her son, having to rely on stealing when the funds ran dry. Her ride was won in a poker game, Royal Flush over a Pair and the owner was plenty pissed to give it up. But when she threw him against a lead pipe he relinquished the keys to her. There were two things that Jace protected, that car and her son.

"He can sleep in Jess's room," Max said watching her nephew scoot closer to her making vroom noises to mimic the car's engine. "He's got a large bed."

"You sure he won't mind?" Jace asked, observing the nephew she didn't even know she had. He looked just like Max. He had her eyes, her way of moving.

"He shares a room with his sister," Max told her. "I'm sure he won't mind havin' an extra playmate around who isn't a girl."

"That'll last for only twelve years Maxie, you know that right?" Jace insisted with a sly smile. "He'll see the value of women soon enough and then you might have to pull him off a few late night dates."

"Uck," Max complained. "Let's talk about that scenario when we reach it. So far he thinks girls are tolerable and that's the way I wanna keep it for a while."

"Hey if you want to live in a fantasy world you have my blessing," Jace said. She stood up from the couch and walked over to where Logan was sitting in the matching black chair. He was a good catch in Jace's opinion. A sweet, hot, non-X5 guy that wouldn't drive you crazy. If Max hadn't married him first Jace was sure she would've taken a run at him. But at that moment the seven-week-old baby he was holding was the focus of her attention. She had stopped fussing a few minutes ago and Jace was finding it hard not to fall in love with her, possibly even stealing her for a few nights. "Can I take her back to her room?" she asked her brother-in-law.

Logan didn't say anything but he carefully slid Lucy –who was now asleep – up so Jace to take her and place her up on her shoulder. "Max will show you where it is."

Jace rubbed Lucy's shoulder with a free hand and shot a look at Logan. "You planin' on doin' some dirty skanky stuff while we're gone?"

"Actually you're right Jace," Logan replied. "I have to return a call from my overly sophisticated Aunt Margo. That's about as dirty as it comes."

Jace bit back a full laugh settling on a small smile. "Are you sure you're a rich liberal white guy?"

"That's what my family keeps trying to remind me of," Logan responded. "But I think I'll stick to my choice as a black sheep bohemian cyber journalist."

"Whatever satisfies you boy," Jace said finally walking towards the hallway she presumed the bedrooms were in. She checked out the various frameless paintings hanging above her on the cherry wood walls. She really had no idea where she was going. But by observing these paintings she could pretend she was just interested in good art rather then admitting that she – a well-trained-X5 officer – was lost.

Max came up behind Jace, noting how she was pretending that she wasn't lost. Jace turned to her. "You picked a good one Maxie. He's rich, sweet, plus he has got one helluva nice ass."

"I'll consider that a compliment and move one with the warning you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Hey I'm not one to hit on married men. Now scoping them out, I got no issues with."

"Do you want me to show you where to put her down, or do you and my husband want to be alone?" Max returned, watching her daughter's eyes close.

"Decisions, decisions," Jace joked laughing under her breath when Max pushed her in the direction of the nursery.

XXXXXXX

UNKNOWN LOCATION

Deck sat waiting patiently, handcuffed to a chair. He was only bound by his hands, and wore no blindfold. He used this planned or missighted opportunity to examine the room he was in. It was bare, solid gray concrete with one long blacked out window that he knew was double sided. The suits that had brought him there had vanished after locking him to the wooden chair with handcuffs. They weren't very well trained in the art of hostage taking, but they more then made up for it with threatening to blow Deck's brains out if he tried to take advantage of a weak part in their plan.

A long bare metal table was in front of him at mid chest level. There was one plain black and white wall clock hanging above the window and Lydecker watched the thin red minute hand scroll over the seconds. Thirty minutes had gone by since he was placed in the room. Thirty minutes with nothing to do but look at the walls and listen to himself breathe. He knew what they were doing though. He wasn't a stupid man. Isolating the prisoner and keeping him waiting was a standard tactic used by many during an interrogation. He had undergone it twice during the Persian Gulf War by an Arab warlord, and he had used it at Manticore many times when interrogating any escapees.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lydecker's eyes scanning the room did not go unnoticed. Through the double-sided mirror that gave a complete view of the captive a cloaked figure stood watching the Army Colonel. Her bald head cast no shine from the lights because of her leather-like skin. Her arms were crossed in front of her body in an almost ceremonial stance. The man she was watching made no indication that he knew she was there, but she wasn't so naive to suspect that he had no knowledge that he was being watched.

Beside her the well-dressed form of Ames White stood as close to the glass as he could get without acutally touching it. He stared at Deck for a few silent seconds, as if he were people watching on a park bench, noting the manner at which the older man composed himself. He seemed ready for a battle should the need arise.

"K'nika su'nos h'ija m'tr'iska. w'ishi'a d'nos h'ka?" ("You found your martyr. Now what do you have planned for him?") The priestess spoke in the ancient language to White, never taking her eyes off of Lydecker's form.

Ames turned a slow head to stare at her, keeping an invisible watch on the prisoner out of the corner of his eye. "I'ka w'ha toa h'ija u'nis u'nosta h'ia w'niksos i'sa r'jisha t'oma ("I won't know what to do until he reveals his weakness to me.")

"B'kisa sh'sta." ("Bullshit.") The Priestess' eyes glazed over with an angered passion. "A'mas w'niksos i'san r'jisha b'is hi'jka bu'as 'h'ia pu'sika." ("A man's weakness isn't revealed by him, but by his punishers.") She gazed at Ames a second longer before slowing shifting her attention back to Lydecker, observing him as one might expect a cat would observe a mouse it was about to disembowel. "Su'a h'ia pu'sika Enosta." ("You are his punisher Ames.")

Ames absorbed the meaning of her words, already knowing that he had been chosen to make the Army Colonel talk. He could already see an angry quiet resistance in Lydecker's eyes. The Colonel did not know what kind of situation he was about to find himself in and yet he was ready to fight whatever it was. And that was the kind of men Ames White liked to prey on.

"T'kia I's n'os d'jinka'ste y'u." ("Then I will not disappoint you.") He turned with small but forceful steps and walked out a black door that had been painted to match the walls of the concrete room. The door opened silently as Ames stepped through it, as steady as a doctor feeling superiority over the naive patient he was about to examine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

This was his first real encounter with Donald Lydecker and before the verbal interrogation even began a silent interrogation took place. Ames noted the age of his captive. 'Over the hill' was the coined phrase. The Colonel had narrow eyes and a stature that was embarrassingly short in respect to the company he kept. He walked slowly to the man bound in the chair, wanting Lydecker to see the full extent of what he was up against.

"I didn't get dragged here by armed men to watch a silent movie son," Deck broke the silence in his low dead panned voice. The man circling him was low on Deck's intimidation level. Young, powerful yes, but lacking knowledge of something that one had to experience to earn credibility in it. But though Ames White was young there was a deadly ancient wisdom behind his eyes that demanded respect – something that Lydecker was not willing to give.

Ames smiled an almost non-existent smile at being called 'son'. His captive was grandfatherly in a way that was completely non-caring and very sarcastic. "You're a hard man to track down Colonel Lydecker."

"Now where would I be if I was someone that was easy to bring in?" Deck asked a loaded question.

Ames studied it briefly before coming back with a response. "That's a question you must ask yourself daily Sir." He paused, not out of politeness but rather for a grand way to begin his interrogation. "But I didn't come here for pleasantries so I'll get right to the point. I need something from you. Something that I have found out through embarrassing trial and error that you seem to have sole knowledge of." He lowered his eyes for a moment, as if observing an invisible file in his empty hands. "It would be a fair assumption that 2009 was a unfortunate year for you. As the head of a genetically engineered project you were forced to watch as 12 of those covert prototypes you helped manufacture jump the fence. And you've spent the rest of your time chasing down a bunch of lab spliced escapees that tried to make it in a world that their pathetic minds weren't even programmed for."

"My kids might have escaped in 2009," Deck's voice was low, but an underlying anger was evident in it. "But it is a dangerous assumption to even suspect that their minds aren't in high tune to their physical stamina."

"Spare me the sentimental piety-" Ames cut him off returning his gaze to Lydecker like a drill sergeant to his blathering new recruit. "I've seen the physical stamina your 'kids' are capable and frankly it's an embarrassment to everything that a soldier is trained for. You yourself call them kids. Why? You probably consider it some kind of affectionate pet name you gave them back after you put a gun in their hands as soon as they knew how to sit up. But to me it constitutes weakness in your so-called 'perfectly engineered soldier.' And the embarrassment of a class of soldiers can only be traced back to their superior officer – that is the way of things that I'm aware of."

"You overestimate your awareness of things," Deck retorted asserting himself even though it was he who was tied to a chair. "You think that just because you throw around some confiscated knowledge about my operation that I'm going to tell you everything there is to know about them? In all of Manticore I was the only person who had all access to these kids. And I'm not about to reveal information just because some suit is breathing down my neck."

"Are you even aware of where they are yourself?" Ames insisted mockingly. "Or was it your plan to have millions of dollars worth of genetic information elude you for over eleven years?"

"Eluding is the wrong word," Lydecker insisted, his narrow eyes contouring in a silent rage at White. He was never one to keep his cool under interrogation. He hadn't become a Colonel to take reprimanding from someone else. "On many instances I have located my kids, even harshly propositioned them to return. But I never expected them to willingly give themselves back over to the project. If they did it would have been the biggest disappointment to all my training."

Ames was loosing his patience and it was showing by a deep crease in his forehead and the way his square jaw was clenched. But for now he kept his anger in check – for now at least, because Lydecker still harbored information that he wanted. "Do you do this kind of thing all the time?

Is it some kind of training you taught yourself to make remarks that are so vague that they are completely useless?"

"What kind of business do you think I'm in son?" Lydecker's voice was still low but it had gone up one more notch. "You think if you just squeeze my head hard enough I'll crack?"

"There's only one way to find out," White stared at Lydecker with all the love of a corrupt warrant officer to his prisoner. His hard expression chiseled away slightly replaced by a hint of sardonic mirth. "Renfro's references were right about you. Even though I'm not in the woman's fan club the files she has on you are dead on." Ames produced a file that he had folded in the pocket of his black trench coat. He flipped the file open to a color-tabbed page and read the last paragraph written in blue ball point pen by Renfro's own hand:

"Donald Lydecker is an embarrassment to this institution. His year of military training and status as a decorated officer does not make up for his erratic and error-ridden track record at Manticore. He is a threat to the existence of the project and action must be taken towards his immediate removal before irrevocable damage is done."

"I will not deny that Anna Renfro and I suffered no love loss," Deck cut in as soon as White finished reading the file. "But if the standing Director of Manticore failed in all her attempts for my 'immediate removal' and was killed after being caught in an act of her own gross negligence to the project then maybe there is something to learn from that."

"Is that what you taught those kids of yours?" White snapped the file closed and threw it down on the table, not caring of Lydecker saw it. "You say you've been in contact with them since the escape," White laughed, a dry humorless spurt of a laugh. "In contact with your well trained, super soldiers; who, instead of honing their battle ready fighting skills have spent their years of escape fucking out the seeds of procreation like they were just some loser on the street." White stopped for a second to remove a file that had been sitting in a brown leather attaché case underneath the table. He flipped the file open to a reveal three sets of black and white computer photo printouts. The images on the paper were that of barcodes, five of them in all, each baring a Manticore insignia hologram over them to prevent duplication.

They weren't the normal 12-digit barcode numbers of Manticore soldiers; rather they were 14- digits long and categorized each image into one of three groups:

33270113979801

33145007465601

33296007345201

33296007345202

33296007345203

"My own opinion of you notwithstanding, I'm going to skip the explanation of what these barcode strings mean and just skip to the part where your miserable self is needed."

Lydecker stared at the barcode images before him, already knowing that the first twelve digits could be traced back to three X5 Class Alpha Females – specifically Max, Tinga, and Jace. Each categorized because of their female genetics. Manticore DNA that had intermingled with human genetics – the unclassified group of Manticore/human hybrids they called their children.

"Just what do you want me to tell you son?" Deck looked back up to White, leaning back into his chair as if the handcuffs no longer bothered him and he was just there to hang around. "If you can't understand what happened then you should have issues with your father's Sex Ed talk, not me."

White was waiting for Lydecker to call him 'son' one more time before he puffed up his narrow beady eyes. When he didn't he went on. "I didn't make these-" He pointed a finger at the barcode images. "The lab technician who was cataloging them did a real nice job of up loading them to me before I shot him but this is all Manticore technology." White backed up from the table and began to slowly pace in front of it like a prosecuting attorney to the defense's key witness. "You obviously thought at some point that these soldiers you engineered might one day run into a good human screw that would make them the parents of a mongrel. So you retrofitted their DNA with a marker that would be passed along to any offspring they might procreate in order to keep tabs on any unauthorized breeding on their part."

"That marker was designed as a security project," Lydecker identified. "No one in the department ever really believed that any of them would escape into the world and pump out hybrid trash. But the world doesn't go on what someone believes. I say those few extra hours of genetic tweaking earned their place after the escape. Not one of my kids has had a baby that I don't know about."

"Well that's all very touching. Unfortunately for you your security system has presented me with a unique opportunity." White stopped his pacing and leaned over the table – arms fanned out in an upside down 'V' formation – to glare into Deck's eyes.

"And what opportunity would that be?" Deck questioned, not hiding the creeping anger and underlying sarcasm in his voice. "Their genetic makeup is failsafe to outside manipulation."

"No organism is failsafe to outside manipulation Colonel," White insisted. "Not so long as female ova can be inseminated." He smiled in quiet cynicism. "An egg will yield its whole interior to the foreign chromosomes of another organism."

"You're planning on using my kids ova to create a clone of a child that would be no more advanced then the one already exists?" Deck did not comprehend why this stupid boy ass suit would want to inseminate the ova of his soldiers with the DNA of their own children. Other then the fact that it would produce more Manticore soldiers, but there would be no advancing merit in the project. It would be like trying to advance cancer treatments by using the same treatment methods year after year.

"Who said anything about a clone?" White returned. He pulled up from the table and a second later sat on its surface. "Like you said Sir the DNA of your 'kids' is designed to prevent any tampering, aside from the occasional female ova zygote formation By realigning those yielding Manticore/human hybrid's DNA with the chromosomes of an ancient race and fool proofing it by inseminating it into an X5 ova I will have achieved what Manticore has failed to create – the perfect soldier."

The clicking sound of the only door that provided escape from the steel room opened as the Priestess – now cloaked in a heavy black cloth robe lined with blood red velvet – stepped through into the bare room. Her eyes settled on the form of Don Lydecker as she walked to the table, the robe swishing under her footfalls as she drew nearer to his bound form.

A crooked, crack of a smile pulled at her mouth as she summed up the short statured man in front of her. He didn't look like the Commanding Officer to an elite group of soldiers. "H'stika u'nos o'nis b'niksa k'sta?" ("Has he given what was needed of him?")

"N'a y'kia'h," ("Not yet,") White responded back in the ancient language. "H'ia l'ks t'a d'insa h's n'ie'sta supe'or'istka ("He likes to dance around his non-existent superiority.")

"Pi'etis,"("Pity,") The Priestess taunted turning her bare green neck to look Deck full in the face. "Mr. Lydecker," she spoke to him in English, punctuating each word with British accented preciseness. "You posses quite remarkable chimeras. You produced many fine specimens that we can fully utilize, strip them if you will of all their genetic defects and replace them with the strongest attribute of our ancient line." She leaned in closer, and the dim lighting highlighted the snake tattoos winding down her neck. "I cannot tell you how vital your 'kids' are to my Project."

"And what project would that be you tattooed circus freak?" Deck growled at the Priestess, watching as her eyes changed color from a watery blood red to a cat's eye yellow. "You think that this is some kind of game? My kids are just some prizes you can win at auction?"

The Priestess smiled again, amused at his attempt at angry wordplay. She pulled back from Deck, but never took her chameleon-like eyes off of him. "To fix where you and your superiors have failed miserably at is hardly a game Mr. Lydecker. No, it is a calling, a grand destiny."

"Destiny towards what ends?" Deck asked coldly.

The Priestess remained silent for a beat before answering: "To reinstate Manticore."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lydecker waited patiently for three hours after Agent White dismissed himself and the Priestess for the night. Two men had been placed on guard duty outside his holding room. They were big burly men but they seemed to lack good coordination because of their huge amounts of muscle on their bodies. They were body builders who drank protein shakes to get their bodies, not by working on their dexterity.

The room was now almost pitch black except for a tiny white light recessed into the wall. It gave no real help to lighten the room to Deck, but he could at least see enough to know what he was doing.

He worked his hands up his jacket pocket and pulled out a thin silver bobby pin. It had fallen out of the updo of a hooker at Southside Market who was trying to attract his attention. He tweaked the pin into the locks on the handcuffs and they came open and clattered to the floor. Deck pocketed the cuffs – in case an opportunity arose to use them again – and made his way out of the door. He had expected the guards to be standing right outside the room. But luckily for him the two men were stupid enough to position themselves down a dimly lit hallway strapped with only a Derringer size hand held pistol and a Beretta that Lydecker recognized to be his.

Deck fell into old Army training and crept slowly down the hall until he was right at the back of one of the men who didn't notice him until the very last second.

"I'm going to be needing that back son," Deck squeezed his thumb into the back of guard's neck at the base of the skull; a maneuver he knew from experience would knock the man out. The guard dropped to the ground hard and Lydecker reached down and picked up his gun as the second guard aimed his pistol at him.

"I'm going to have to ask you to drop the weapon Sir," the man's voice was hard, but young. Not at all commanding like Ames White. He was not a Famulair, just a loyalist to White.

"Ask me then," Deck returned keeping his gun aimed steadily on the man's chest.

"I can't just let you walk out of here Sir," the guard insisted.

"You can and you will son," Deck insisted with indifference watching the man's hand apply pressure to the trigger. Deck ducked on instinct but still managed to get clipped on top of the shoulder. He pretended to fall from the bullet and as the guard went for his gun he kicked him in the chest so hard that he dropped his weapon.

Deck quickly snatched the gun and aimed it at the guard. "This is me walking out of here." Before the guard could object or try and regain his stolen weapon Lydecker disappeared down the hallway.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

FOGLE TOWERS - 11:15 PM

"Seriously Logan how can you not have something battle worthy in your music collection?" Jace complained from her current position scanning Logan's bookshelves that housed his CD's next to a Bose Acoustic stereo. Her eyes scanned over a complete collection of Brahmas, Stravinsky and some lost works of Beethoven. After a few minutes she found a CD she seemed to find worthy of looking at and pulled it out. "What's this doing in your pristine collection?"

Logan looked at the Seether CD that Jace was holding up for his inspection. "That one is Max's."

Jace gave a smile of approval. "Music taste is in the genes Logan." She removed the disc and inserted it into the stereo.

"I thought X5's could appreciate classical music," Logan insisted. "It's not like you lack the intelligence to understand the meanings behind them."

"Oh I understand their meanings alright brother-in-law," Jace agreed, playing the track "Broken" – a song which featured Evanescence's leading lady Amy Lee. "It's just when you've had that kind of music beaten into your head during your entire childhood you wanna get as far away from it as possible." Jace stood back up to her full height, popping her back on the way up.

She locked eyes with Logan while readjusting a lock of hair behind her ears. "Now that I got you all alone how about we instigate something?"

"It would hardly be appropriate with Max just down the hall with our daughter," Logan reminded, knowing that Max could easily hear every word in Lucy's room where she was currently giving her a late night feeding.

"I'm just messin' with ya boy," Jace corrected, satisfied at his answer. "If you're permanently hooked up with Maxie I need to make sure you don't like running around the block behind her back." Her joking tone faded from her expression a second later like a bubble fizzing out in a champagne glass. "Look Logan, I've never been great at sentiment, but I just wanted to thank you, one-on-one for what you did for me and Max." Her words were very genuine. "I don't know how I would've made it without your help."

Logan took her words to heart, understanding what it took for this hard, independent X5 woman to say them. "I'm just glad that it all turned out so well for you and your son."

Jace's lips tugged in a hint of a smile at the mention of her Max. "He's my baby. He's got a lot of my features but his eyes are all Victor's. Guess you could say he's my link to him." She paused for a second to reflect on something. "It's funny how things work out. Five years ago I would never dreamed about having a kid – it wasn't the life of a soldier. But after meeting Victor and getting out here in the real world with my son – it's like suddenly my priorities changed."

"I can understand that feeling," Logan agreed. "My work was my whole world before I met Max. Now the work is still there, I'm still the same man I was before but there's a shift in what's important to me. My wife, my kids-"

Jace nodded in silent agreement. "I wonder how come Manticore never figured things like this would get in the way of our missions."

"I think they just never wanted to believe it would," Logan informed. "They never wanted to admit that their solitary fighting machines could become attached to something other then the mission objective."

"Guess that's what Max meant when she told me Manticore had it all backwards." She smiled at Logan again, but this time her smile was larger and warmer. Not over done like a bubbly teenager, but gracious, and laced with a bit of an attitude.

Logan felt like he was being scrutinized. "What is it?"

"I use to think Victor was the only civilian guy I could get into. But you are seriously changin' my mind."

A knocking on the front door sounded before Logan could even remark on Jace's compliment. He went to go answer the call all the while feeling Jace's eyes on him the whole time. Yep, she's one of Max's sisters all right.

He expected a caller at this hour to be Bling, or Lucia, or possibly Kendra. But when he opened the door he was faced with someone he had never seen before. A skinny guy, with floppy hair and ghost pale skin.

"Can I help you?" Logan wasn't into letting strange men into his house. Especially ones that looked like a pizza delivery boy.

"I'm Eric," the mystery man finally revealed his name. "I'm looking for Max."

'Eric's' clarification on who he was didn't make Logan feel any better. Eric who? I didn't know Max had a friend named Eric – wait didn't she have an ex named Eric? But that was just a heat thing, why would he come back? I can't have THAT kind of bad luck.

"Yo dude," Eric broke Logan out of his thoughts. "It's kinda impersonal to be standing out here like this, especially after I just drove all this way to get here."

"Sorry," Logan apologized quickly, not really meaning he felt bad for letting this kid hang out in the hallway. After all this was his house. He did have the right to decide who came into it. "Come in."

"Thanks dude," Eric stepped inside the penthouse wearing a navy blue hoody whose pockets his hands were currently stuffed into.

"You're welcome," Logan closed the door and followed Eric in his wandering steps to the living room. "And for the record my name's Logan."

"Well it's a nice pad you got here Logan," Eric said checking out the furniture in the living room, silently admiring the black leather couches and Asian rugs over the hardwood floors. His eyes finally settled on Jace who was observing him with crossed arms from next to the leather barstools that sat beside the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had another guest."

"I'm Jace," Jace said flatly. "Max's sister." She examined Eric with the same scrutiny as Zane – there was just something wrong with the boy hanging around Max. "Are you into stalking all your old flames or is Max just the acceptation?"

"Ah-" Eric cleared his throat, trying to salvage the reputation that Jace had just torn to shreds. "Max and I used to go out, which I'm sure she told you. And I was in town so I just thought I'd see her-"

"So look at a picture," Jace insisted, glancing sideways at Logan. "Cause as you can plainly see Maxie already has a nice piece or wear and she doesn't need some half bit ex-whatever thinking he can score with her again." She looked about three seconds away from physically removing Eric from the room but thankfully fate intervened in the form of Max reemerging from Lucy's nursery.

"Baby don't tell me that that was the last clean diaper I just put on Lucy. I don't think she can survive two more days of wearin' it until they ration out more at the market-" her voice halted in her conversation with Logan when she realized that there was another man in the room.

"Eric?" Max's brows knitted in confusion. She had never actually thought he would make good on his offer and come to her house, let alone that he knew where her house was.

"He seems to think he can get a free meal here," Jace's retort sounded off in Eric's ears and he tried not to cringe. He had no idea seeing a girl he was so crazy about would be so hard.

"Bennett and Maryanne have a stockpile of them from Margo," Logan cut in, talking about diapers instead of the situation in front of him. "I'm sure they won't mind giving up a few for a needy cause." He paused for a moment, finding it incredibly awkward how to strike up a conversation about the guy his sister-in-law had already marked for disembowelment. "Max you remember Eric."

Max nodded in silent agreement at Logan's statement. "We already met up at Crash tonight."

"Well this has been an interesting chain of events," Jace cut in. "But I have a son to check on," Jace turned to walk down the hall towards Jessie and Lexi's room leaving the three alone.

"Eric what are you doing here?" Max asked after Jace left.

Thank you. Logan was glad to hear Max voice confusion about Eric's arrival. He would hate to think that he was being rude to someone she had invited.

"You gave the okay to stop by one night," Eric insisted. "And this seems a good a night as any." He offered her his lopsided smile, which set above his narrow eyes made it appear too large for his face.

Max went quiet for a moment, dealing with the ramifications of having her own words come back to bite her in the ass. "Then lay it back I guess," she didn't know how to play doting hostess. That was something reserved for Logan's Aunt Margo and the Queen of England.

"Thanks," Eric slid into an empty barstool on the counter thankful that Max had finally voiced him wanting to stay. He could feel Logan's eyes boring in his head and he also took this opportunity to size the man up that had gotten sole custody of Max. He was older then Eric had expected, but some girls were into that whole older man thing. "So – Logan, where'd you make all your cheddar? I mean a guy your age has to have worked his tail off to get this much."

"Eric I'm 37," Logan clarified, but not without a bit of annoyance for the 'guy your age' remark. "That hardly qualifies me to be in the same category as your grandfather. But more to the point if you came here to visit with my wife I suggest you actually try visiting with her instead of asking pointless questions."

"I think I'm about ready for a drink," Max cut in on the two men. She headed into the kitchen and reached under the counter where the alcohol was kept. "You want anything baby?" she was heard to say while she rummaged through the alcohol.

"We still have that hard scotch under there?" Logan answered back, suddenly feeling the need for a lot of liquor.

Max re emerged with a bottle in her hand filled halfway with yellowish-colored wine. "We have Chardonnay which is about as hard as you're gonna get." She started to pour the wine into the crystal stemware she was pulling down from the cabinets above the counter.

Logan watched her pour out three glasses. "Didn't you already have a fair amount when you were hanging out with your siblings?"

"Okay then I'll stand here and watch you drink it," Max met the challenge and handed him a full wine glass, sliding the other one to Eric.

"This is nice," Eric commented downing half the Chardonnay. "It has a good after taste, nice bouquet." He watched Logan and Max shoot him confused looks at his knowledge of wine. "My uncle has a vineyard out in Napa Valley. I use to take trips there every summer."

"You must be well cultured then," Logan stated, shooting Max an 'I'm trying' gaze to the glare she was giving him.

"Nah," Eric brushed off Logan's compliment taking a smaller, less indulging hit from his glass. "All that culture so hoity toity and stuck up. I could never get use to it."

"I can't argue with you on that," Max repeated, the first smile finally coming to her face since Eric had arrived. He really wasn't a bad guy, and she still felt bad for lying about their 'hot and steamy night'. "So did Eric ever attach his last name to someone?"

"No way Max," Eric returned, setting down his wine glass with such careful movements Logan felt like he could've have attended finishing school like his sister did when she was nine. "The dating game just wasn't the same after you left it." He smiled at her again, the full on lopsided one that he gave when he was remembering something pleasurful. "We sure had something great huh?"

"Great doesn't describe it Eric," Max agreed, still playing along. As far as she was concerned he deserved some 'you're the man' puffing up after he helped her get out of Sedro Island.

Logan took such a large drink from his wine glass it would have impressed his Uncle Jonas. It was going to be a long night, he could already tell.

XXXXXXXXX

11:25 PM

Lydecker had walked a considerable distance after escaping the Familars Seattle base command. His Jeep had been chopped up by men who were more then happy to lay waste to his ride. So he resigned himself to walking out of the compound, cursing under his breath about the Snake Goddess freak and her idiotic minions. After about a mile he decided that it had been too long since boot camp and had stopped a kid in a rusty El Camino at gunpoint for his car.

He was cruising as fast as the piece of scrap metal would go, about 85 mph, though the engine sounded like it would roll over on him at any minute. The flashing lights of a Sector stop greeted him as the two-armed cops slowed him down for their nightly check of passes and instigating shakedowns.

"Let's see the pass," a middle-aged cop with graying hair around the outer edges of his mostly bald head stuck his head right in the window of the Camino.

Deck handed him the slip of laminated paper from his leather jacket pocket waiting impatiently while the man scrutinized its authenticity. He shined his flashlight at Deck's face. "Buddy this pass expired last month."

"I'm not your buddy Officer," Deck snapped, not at all in the mood for Rent-A-Cop ideology bullshit.

"Whatever man," the Sector Cop responded, not at all fazed by Lydecker's snappish tone. He was use to all sorts of insults with the line of work he was in. "I can't let you through with an expired pass. You'll have to pull over to be evaluated."

"I don't have time for your second rate evaluations son," Deck hissed, waving his military identification in the Sector Cop's face. "So I suggest you shut your trap and respect the chain of command."

The Sector Cop immediately lost his tough ass attitude and down graded to a humble ass kisser faster then a magician could pull a rabbit out of his hat. "I'm sorry you can go right on ahead – Sir."

"Thank you," Deck returned snatching his expired Sector Pass from the Cop's fumbling hands. Whose bright idea was it anyway to put these morons out on sentry duty? "I trust I don't have to call this in to anyone?"

"No Sir," the Sector cop back pedaled, almost standing at attention and was just two seconds away from kissing any jewelry on Deck's hand. "You're clear Sir."

Deck didn't respond and drove through the checkpoint and into Sector Nine.

XXXXXXXXXX

FOGLE TOWERS - SECTOR NINE

Max checked her watch again, sighing under her breath at the glowing 12:30 on the digital readout. She was perched on the edge of the black leather chair watching Eric take his fourth drink of the night. He was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago, but somehow he never got around to making any gestures of getting out.

Jace had come out of the guest room once to get some more milk for Max – it helped him sleep - screwing up her face when she saw that Eric was still hanging around. She didn't say anything but kept shooting him sideways looks all the way back to the bedroom.

Eric was oblivious to the signals Max was silently sending him that maybe he should pack it up for the night. He played with the rim of the wine glass, trying to make a resonating pitch by rotating a wet finger around its circumference.

Logan drummed his fingers on the end table by the couch. He had given up drinking after the first glass of wine and had spent the better part of the night listening to Eric regale them with stories of his childhood years spent with his mother and stepfather. Then he moved on to his preteen years – something Logan was sure he had just come out of a few years ago – explaining how he worked at a Surf Shop in California for his uncle before the Pulse hit, but after it "boards" weren't selling anymore so he had to get a real job at an auto parts store at 16. Logan was about ready to slip a tranquilizer in Eric's glass of wine to shut him up. He had been nice, he had been hospitable, but midnight was after hours in the house of Cale. There were so many things he could be doing besides listening to Eric prattle on and on.

One of those "things" was Max. Her less then elusive hinting on the phone had gotten him riled for a bit of contact with her. They had finally passed their doctor prescribed celibacy period for Lucy's birth, but Logan had never seemed to find time to be alone with his wife. Max's X5 reunion he'd known about since yesterday (they couldn't divulge their whereabouts to anyone, not even a brother-in-law) and Jace's and his nephew's arrival he'd swung with. But he really wanted to be with Max and do something they hadn't been able to do in six weeks. And Eric, with that smug baby faced smile on his face was putting a damper on things.

Respect the rights of Chivalry for god sakes kid! Go HOME! "I hate to ruin a good evening," Logan stood up from the couch, playing a move his father had often done to get people to leave without being completely in their face about it. "But I had to get up early this morning for work and I'm about ready to fall over." That was a lie. He ran an underground Informant Net from his own home. The last time he had an 'early hour job' was back in his college at the campus bookstore.

Max knew he was lying because since when did he use the expression 'get up early for work'? But she wasn't irritated with him. Eric had overstayed his welcome a while ago and if Logan hadn't said anything about it she was going to.

Logan's move worked. Eric checked his watch like he had just now realized how late it was. "Geez, I didn't realize what time it was." He gave them a sheepish smile that looked like it was about to fall off his face. "You guys probably want to hit your bed now huh?"

"You have no idea," Logan returned leaving his remark to the suggestions that it implied.

Though his out right sexual suggestions was uncharacteristic of him Max wasn't about to complain.

"Thanks for the lay over," Max directed the remark at Eric as he went to reclaim his camel hair T-shirt coat from where he had laid it on a dining room chair.

Eric slipped on the thin coat and gave Max such a sincere look that she almost felt sorry for making him leave. "It was really great seeing you again," he wanted to give her a kiss, preferably somewhere else besides her forehead or cheek. But he wasn't European or one of those other guys who could get away with something like that. That Logan character looked docile enough but Eric kept getting vibes off of him that let him know he would set him straight if he decided to play something extra on the side.

Eric left his remark at that, adding on a quick "bye" before walking out the door. He walked the short distance to the elevator. He pressed the button for the car and was surprised when the metal doors opened a few seconds later. The car had been almost to the penthouse floor when Eric called it, and he waited for a second while a middle-aged man with graying hair stepped off before he stepped inside himself.

"Long night huh?" Eric commented, observing the rumpled pants the man was wearing, hems were caked in mud and bits of rat turd.

"Good night son," Lydecker deadpanned narrowing his eyes at Eric who lost his smile at the glare. The elevator doors closed and Deck turned down the hallway to make his way to the penthouse.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Logan sighed, lifting his head up from where it lay in his hands. "I was beginning to think he'd grown to the furniture." He stood up from the front door he was leaning against to stretch his arms over his head.

"You're the one who kept hitting him up with the drinks," Max reminded standing a few feet away from him in the foyer.

"I was raised to be courteous Max," Logan returned taking a few steps towards her. "You on the other hand should've smelled blood in the water a while ago and told your little lover boy to go home."

"Is that jealously I detect in the voice of my husband?" Max asked, smiling brazenly. "Afraid your manly prowess might be threatened by a little competition?"

"Hardly," Logan returned, blowing off the remark. "He's just a kid."

"I was too when you first met me," Max insisted.

"Nineteen is hardly a kid sweetheart," Logan returned. "And it was different with you. You were a woman, beautiful, intelligent, curves all over the place." He didn't hide the fact that his eyes were now resting right on her curves slowly traveling up to her face.

"I'm still a woman now," Max smiled seductively, playing into his game of scoping her out by angling her body to give him a better view. Now that they were finally alone it was doing wonderful things for her libido.

"That's something you don't have to tell me," Logan remarked closing the small gap that still remained between them.

"Logan?" Max remarked after finding his lips on hers before she knew he was going to instigate things.

"Yeah baby?" his voice was horse, like five o'clock stubble was scratching his larynx. And he could tell it was arousing her by how wide her pupils had dilated.

"Bedroom?" She panted out the word, finding it hard to keep herself off him now that she had gotten started.

Logan slid his hands under her shirt feeling for the hooks of her black bra. He cursed silently when he realized she wore a front clasping bra because it was easier to nurse Lucy. And he honestly didn't think he could wait long enough to get to their bedroom in order to take it off of her.

"Couch," Logan answered Max's earlier question. He normally had some reserves about doing it in front of a large picture window because of the way Max's family so blatantly broke in. But he was willing to let that side tonight, pleading lust-induced insanity to anyone who questioned it.

Max wasn't about to argue and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt in her hands, yanking him to the long leather sofa. She pushed him down on it, still attached to his shirt so that they both landed on the cushions at the same moment, her on top straddling his waist.

Her long-sleeved gray cotton shirt went up over her head as Logan pulled out their children's toys that had been jammed into his back. He dangled the plastic play telephone in front of him for a moment. "You ever think about playing with toys?"

Max's face screwed up. "You're sick." He knew perfectly well that she preferred to be aroused by skin on skin contact rather than a vibrating piece of plastic shoved up her body. But her face contoured into a slow creeping smile a minute later, because she knew they didn't need any 'help' in getting each other riled.

She peeled back his black sweater and dropped a line of kissed up the midline of his abs, working up to each peck muscle, watching his eyes get wider and wider as she got to his mouth.

He framed the back of her head with his hands, getting his fingers tangled up in her silky locks. "Talk about a full body massage."

Max laughed very quietly in the back of her throat because smart-ass comments were normally her department. She leaned down to kiss him full on the mouth and was about three seconds into it when she heard a quiet thud of a door closing.

At first she thought it was just one of the kids creeping out of their room for some water, but the sound was louder, heavier, the sound of a front door closing. For a moment she heard nothing but then the sound of a familiar voice made her whip her head around:

"Don't let me interrupt you."

Max pulled herself off of Logan's body and a 'what the hell?' look crossed her face upon seeing Donald Lydecker standing in the middle of her living room. He was observing her topless form too closely for her comfort so she quickly found her discarded shirt and slid it back on her body faster then it had taken her to remove it.

"It's not like I haven't seen what you're covering up before Max," Deck stated calmly watching her pull the last bit of fabric down to conceal her bare skin.

This time Logan shot him a death glare as he stood up from the couch. But before he could act on any of his rage Max beat him to it:

"If you only came here to get some sick thrill out of watching me hang out my foot in your ass is gonna show you the door."

"Relax Max," Deck said in a calming voice, almost fatherly. "I didn't come here to discuss everything Manticore so well endowed you with."

"Then what are you here for?" Logan's voice joined the mixture. He didn't like the way Lydecker was looking at Max. She was young enough to be his daughter and, given their history, it was even more disgusting. "It's been my experience that you don't just drop in for chit chat. So how about you give it up now, save us the time of guessing."

"I never play guessing games son," Deck admonished, staring at the younger man with spiky hair and five o' clock shadow, wondering what the hell there was about him that made him think he was threatening.

"Then just spill it Don," Max said in a low warning voice, not in the mood to listen to Lydecker elaborate. "Scratch your damn itch and tell us what the hell you want."

Deck had to repress a smile. There was the thing that was threatening. That civilian couldn't hold a candle to his X5 wife. "I need your help."

"Sorry my Psychiatrist license expired last year," Max deadpanned, not taking her eyes off Deck not even when the sounds of Lucy's crying came through the baby monitor sitting on the coffee table.

"You need to take that," Deck insisted listening as the baby hit a higher pitch. "She won't stop otherwise."

Max glared at him, not wanting to hear parenting advice from a man who liked to torture children in his spare time. She didn't want to leave, but Lucy's crying was something that couldn't be ignored. She never took her eyes off of Lydecker as she disappeared down the hallway to the nursery. Logan was sure he could see her eyes boring holes in the walls after she was out of sight.

"Do you realize how lucky you are Mr. Cale?" Deck talked to Logan calmly like they were two old acquaintances that had just met up with each other after years of separation. "Manticore tried for years to accomplish what is lying in those rooms back there. If I'd have known that all it took was my top X5 females satisfying themselves with second class civilians I would've run things a little differently."

"What do you want?" Logan had to restrain himself from punching the older man for his snide remark. "You already said you didn't come here to exchange pleasantries so why are you being so elusive?"

"Who said I was being elusive son?" Deck informed falling into his old habit of calling anyone he wanted to assert authority over 'son'. "Elusiveness is an obstacle people use when they having absolutely nothing of merit to say. What I present to you is factual information."

"Factual information of what?" Logan interjected. "That I'm lucky for having children? It didn't take a military Colonel to inform me of that."

Deck gave a small dry smile that mixed into the beginnings of a short laugh. "I can't deny that your sarcasm language skills are impeccable Mr. Cale, if you could call sarcasm a skill. But as you said I'm not here to merely dote upon the offspring of one of my kids."

"Which again brings me back to the question of what the hell you are doing in my house at midnight?" Logan's voice had rose to a medium level of anger. He wasn't ready to throw Deck out on his ass – like it was a feat he could do alone. But he was becoming increasingly irritated at waiting for the Colonel to finish his game of telling stories.

"Hey cool it down in there boy!" Jace's voice echoed down the hallway as she approached the living room. "Sistah girl's tryin' to keep her baby asleep-" her words stalled out like an old car engine when she saw Lydecker standing in the living room. First there was confusion on her face, but then it quickly drained away and was replaced by a blood seeking rage.

"Jace," Deck said softly, actually surprised at seeing her there. He now knew how she had gotten out of the city when she had abandoned her last mission.

Jace launched herself at Lydecker and pinned him so hard against Logan's black lacquer framed full-length mirror that the glass cracked down the center. "Don't you ever talk to me like that again!" She squeezed his neck with her hand, satisfied at the gasping noise he made. "What the hell are you doing here?" the words ground out of her teeth like a pestle crushing stone.

"You're going to have to let him breathe for him to answer you," Logan remarked watching Jace whip her head around like he had just told her that Lydecker was her son's father.

"My plan is for him to never breathe again," Jace's words were coming from years of repressed hate. After escaping from Manticore she suddenly got a shock to her system by having to deal realistically with what Lydecker had done to her.

"He came in here wanting to feed us some information so let's hear what he has to say. You have the upper hand Jace," Logan insisted in his quiet Eyes Only intellectual way. "And he knows it otherwise he wouldn't be letting you do that right now."

Jace could see a point to Logan's statement, and she hated it. But she wanted to know what Deck was doing hanging around Seattle just as much as he did. She released Lydecker's neck so quickly that his head cracked against the mirror.

Deck hunched over and took a few choking breaths as oxygen poured back into his lungs. "You kids are all so angry after the first meeting," he pulled himself back into a dignified position, staring right into Jace's eyes. "But eventually you all come to the same conclusion; that you can be no more angry at me then you could a parent who would slap you around when you mouth off."

"Shut up!" Jace ordered in a low threatening tone. She circled around Lydecker like she was staking out a kill. "I'm only going to ask you this once more – what are you doing here?"

"Momma?" Max padded into the living room in the rumpled black monogrammed 'El Dorado Bull Fighters' T-shirt that he had gone to bed in. He stepped right up to Jace staring up into her face.

"Go back in the bedroom Max," Jace ordered her son, never taking her eyes off Lydecker.

Max turned his gaze away from his mother, shifting his brown eyes over to Lydecker. He silently observed the older man with all the curiosity of a child.

Deck stared fascinated at the boy who eyed him quizzically. "Your name's Max?" the dry smile was back on his face. He turned his gaze upwards to Jace. "I see you carried on your unauthorized medical status." His eyes went back to Max who – unlike his mother – still didn't consider Lydecker a threat.

"That's a strong name you have – Max," Deck spoke softly to the boy. "You're a lucky boy you know that? You have a very special mommy," he took a few steps towards Max.

Jace immediately went on the offensive and pushed her body in front of Max's. "You stay the hell away from my son!"

"Come here baby." Max called out to her nephew from the corner where the living room connected with the hallway. She bent low to pick him up when he willingly accepted her embrace.

"Who's that man?" the boy questioned, his eyes still locked on Lydecker.

"Just a messenger. He'll be gone in a minute," Max responded shooting a very readable angry gaze at Lydecker. She set her nephew down on his feet with a gentle pat on his back. "Get back into bed sweetie, it's late."

He looked reluctant to leave but he obeyed the order and disappeared down the dark hallway.

"You are a very good mother Max," Deck said quietly in a tone between a deadpan and matter-of-fact.

"You know what, enough," Max spat. She rushed Lydecker and pinned him to the wall. "Get it through your head that you're not my father. So how about you just drop your dime on what every information you're sitting on and leave the acting to the movie stars."

"What I'm sitting on could very well save your children's lives," Deck insisted.

"Spare me the after school special Don," Max retorted.

"I'm offering you crucial information on saving the lives of those kids of yours and you'd rather blow it off and find out too late that I was right all along?"

"Right about what?" Logan asked finally raising his voice to full blown rage. "If you think for one second that you're going to do anything to endanger the lives of my children-"

"I'm not the one doing it son," Deck cut in, asserting his authority over the younger man. "You actually think I would do something like that to my kids? Their genetic code is worth millions. It's not in my best self-interest to just destroy it."

"It'll be in your best self-interest to wear a cup if you don't explain who is after my babies," Max growled with the fierceness of a mother and the in-your-face attitude of an X5.

"Your babies are just as genetically valuable as you are Max, maybe more," Deck informed with an air of knowledge that could only come from doing his dirty job for all those years. "You may not have realized it, but when you were knocking it down with a civilian you were creating an entirely new breed of Manticore. A successful X5 human hybrid. Their births erased away any speculation about X5's being able to pass along their genetic traits to their offspring. You think that something this big can just be contained? Their DNA is being sought after by millions on the Black Market."

"What kind of Black Market crack head would want to harvest children?" Jace demanded angrily, assuming that this was Deck's version of giving them the run around.

"After Manticore disbanded information leaked out about its existence." Deck told her. "Over the years there have been several copy-cat attempts to rebuild base command, but none of these so called 'Biosynthe' groups had the technology to get it up off the ground."

"You saying there's someone who's got that kind of knowledge now?" Logan asked in disbelief. He had heard the stories himself but had chalked it up to college graduate conspiracy theorists that didn't get out much. "Biosynthe creations may be hot on the Black Market but most believe it's nothing but a load of conspiracy crap and rule out ever investing in it."

"Idiots," Deck told him flatly, shifting his weight so that he balanced on legs in a stance of parade rest. "The very existence of biosynthes is meant to challenge the testament of belief. But for all these urchins lost in their own delusions there seems to be a quiet uprising group who would like nothing more then to resurrect Manticore to it's full Alpha One status."

Max's eyes shifted in a look of astonishment at Lydecker's words. She stole a glance at Jace and could see that she had the same shocked expression as her. Manticore had been destroyed years ago, disbanded, and now Colonel Donald Lydecker the former CO of the organization informed that it was about to be reborn.

"You honestly expect us to believe that some private politician dropped a truck load of Benjamins to some whacko conspiracy buffs for a decommissioned base without any knowledge of what they were shelling out to?" Max was taken aback by the new information presented to her but she wasn't about to claim it as fact. Skepticism was a weapon she had learned to use to her advantage.

"I expect you to believe Max that private funds could be secured to attain such a goal." Deck stated calmly, not at all affected by her attitude. He had taught them all to be wary of things, and he wouldn't expect her to react any differently.

"I don't think I'm expected to believe anything that comes from your mouth," Max hissed back forcefully. "You've given us the run around a million damn times before this so why should I believe that this time you're preachin' the Gospel?"

"You remember your first child?" Deck said quietly, matter-of-fact watching her expression change swiftly from anger to a pained remembrance. "What did you think I was trying to achieve?" The remark was rhetorical, but it got its desired effect from Max – silence. "You and Zack are the top of the X5 line. By combining your DNA I hopped to create a top of the line soldier, expendable in case of emergency. But we found out too late the genetic matrix was unstable. X5 DNA is identical in many ways except on key strands where there are retrofitting of various genetic cocktails. When the Embryo was born his body couldn't recognize that it was attacking strands of his own DNA. He would've burned out before he was thirteen – if someone hadn't beaten him to it."

Max remained impassive at his speech, but her mind well remembered that day Zack killed the boy they had been forced to create. "This is all fascinating Don, but what does it have to do with here and now?"

"Don't you understand Max?" Deck growled out impatiently, wondering how long it was going to take such superior genetics to wrap her head around what he was telling her. "The method of creation was the only thing that was flawed. The idea was sound. All someone would have to do is create a new method of creation and in a generation recreate a sounder soldier."

"You keep saying 'they' a lot Lydecker," Logan spat. "Did you have someone in particular? Or is this another one of your evasion tactics?"

"I didn't go out looking for a way to sell off my kids son," Deck returned just as harshly. "I was approached tonight by someone who had already set the plan in motion."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"E'kis S'ost I'ma ("What idiots you hired,") The Priestess stood over the slumped form of the guard, nudging and kicking at him with a pair of low heeled mules to see if he would arouse.

"Th'as j'nos a'no f'mist'ia" ("They were just a formality,") Ames insisted standing beside the Priestess in the darkened hallway. The man Lydecker had knocked out still lay sprawled out on the cement floor on his back unmoving. The other man had been taken to be interrogated on how he managed to let a prisoner just walk out of the compound. "W'kia g'usat t'a p'knista w'kia d'niksta u'sa." ("We don't need pathetic soldiers to protect what we can defend.")

"H'kis d'niksta w'ela ton'sa lun'stik E'nosta!" ("You didn't protect well enough tonight Ames!") The Priestess' voice grew shrill like a group of bats screeching out of their cave at the same time. "A's k'i'sta p'kis es'ca'iha b'sat n'ecgish'ika!" ("A key player has evaded us because of your negligence!") She stepped right on top of the guard's stomach with her shoe. He grunted sharply at her heel in his sternum but she ignored him.

"H'is n'tas f'as P'nosta," ("He will not go far Priestess,") Ames reassured, not backing down from his cool take on the situation. He hadn't expected Lydecker to just sit in the holding cell like a good captive waiting for instructions.

The Priestess turned to him, her eyes now the fiery red they were when she was enraged. "What makes you so self-assured Ames?" She switched to speaking English with ease. She was a master of both languages but which one she spoke depended on the mood she wanted to set with her words.

"He will try to warn his 'kids.' Let them know they've been compromised." White said the word Deck called the X5's like he had just drank bitter coffee. His English was not as poignant as the Priestess but it was no less threatening. "Their genetics were worth millions to Manticore, he will not turn them over to a new order so easily."

"Those insolent brats are spread all over the States," the Priestess retorted all knowingly. "Why do you think he would stay in Seattle when he needs to warn them all?"

"One of the X5's lives right here in the city." This was new information to the Priestess but she hid any emotions about it from her face. "Only her and two other X5 females have the DNA we need to harvest."

"Then he may not warn them all," the Priestess stated in complete coldness. This time when the guard had finally roused to consciousness she kicked him in the head to shut up his incessant groaning. "It would risk forcing the others out into the open."

"The X5 female will warn them all," White corrected, not even flinching when the Priestess – in a final act to shut the guard up from his painful complaints – rammed her heel right into the shaft of his penis. "They consider themselves all brothers and sisters. She won't let anything happen to her family." The guard fell silent in quiet pain as Ames finished talking.

"H'ksa d'stkiha t'nista." ("How disgustingly touching.") The Priestess switched to the ancient language not missing a beat even with the guard tried to squirm his way out from the floor before she stepped on him again. She glanced at the man only briefly, a look of disdain coming over her features in that instant. "Your mistakes will be remembered." The blood red of her eyes seemed to glow in the shadowy light.

The guard – still grimacing with the pain inflicted on head and his member – could do nothing but crawl away from her into the dark recesses of the long hallway.

The Priestess only wasted three seconds of time watching the guard stagger down the hallway before her full attention once again focused on White.

"I's y'na h'ja i'sa E'nosta th'sa f'ji hi'sna be'su lun'sa fa'sa. O'ska y'sa ik's gu'sa sh'insa s'mnas w'nsika" ("If you know where he is Ames, find him. Or you and the guard will share the same walk.") She turned to leave without any grandiose gestures; the only real indication to Ames that she was walking away at all was the sounds of her footsteps on the cement floor.

Ames took a one second stock of the situation he was faced with before pulling a cell phone from the pocket of his jacket. He hit the first speed dial number and waited. There were a few barely noticeable clicks and whirring sounds on the line – an electronic tracer going to work – and then the call went through.

"Director's office," came a deeply male voice.

"Is the Director in?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Someone who's obviously in the loop to know this direct number." White wasn't in the mood for red tape phone etiquette. "Just get on the phone with the Director and tell him he's got a call."

"One moment please-"

The line went quiet for a few seconds then a click echoed in the receiver as the call was finally patched through.

"Yes?" A deeply male voice came over the line.

"Director Peters, this is Agent Ames White of the F.B.I. I'm sorry to call you on such late hours Sir but I need a trace on a resident here in Seattle."

"Sir this is the Central Intelligence Agency not Map Quest," Director Chamber Peters, head of the C.I.A grumbled into the phone while looking through the first of a stack of conversation transcripts from one of his agent's undercover missions. "May I ask what's wrong with your own agency's hound dog sniffers, or dare I say it, a phone book?"

"The address is unlisted Sir. I'm aware that the C.I.A has a record of that location before it went unlisted. Frankly I find this information easier to get from you then any of the fresh faced pimple heads working in the tracing department in my agency."

Peters could be heard smiling from the other end. After the Pulse the F.B.I had hired dozens of new agents to increase their manpower. But many of these agents were not much older then the minimum age requirement of 22 years. Since 2011 there had been several embarrassing moments for the F.B.I when several of its analysts had misinterpreted phone taps on the agency's Top Ten Most Wanted List. The incidents were cleared up as quietly as possible but the agency never had the exact same credibility they did in their days before the Pulse.

"I may be able to help you out Agent White. Provided that my conversation with you never happened." Peters had been around for the Wanted List fiascos and didn't want to sacrifice the credibility of his agency by announcing his involvement with the "New F.B.I."

"Whatever it takes for you to spit out the information Sir," White deadpanned. He didn't give a crap about Peter's sense of authority; he was a brainless pig.

Peters growled silently at the hostile remark. "I see you're smarter then some of your coworkers Agent White. You give me the name and I'll have it nailed down to what room in the house overlooks the street."

"The name's Cale Sir. Logan Cale," White responded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

FOGLE TOWERS

Deck stood behind Logan, who was seated at his computer typing out commands to pull up a file.

"Do undergrounders like you always go through government files for your information?" Deck's voice was low as he held a torn piece of his shirt on his shoulder to the graze wound he had gotten earlier.

Logan didn't comment, but noticed over his shoulder the way Lydecker was holding himself. He obviously had been wounded but he never complained about it. "The information is there for this kind of use anyway. Why should it go to waste?" he drew up a record on the computerized cataloging system of the CIA's website.

"The CIA are nothing but a bunch of premadonna peek-a-booers son," Lydecker told him flatly. "Keeping the organization afloat is a waste of tax payer money."

"Maybe so," Logan said just as dryly as Deck, not playing into his 'I'm more experienced then you' game. "But it seems to have served it's purpose well enough in this case." A file photo was soon brought up, an image of a man appearing on the screen.

"Ames White," Logan began, reading the information with White's file cataloged in the CIA's reference of government agents. "Born in 1984 in San Francisco. Enlisted in the F.B.I in 2019. Promoted to Field Agent Supervisor of a covert government branch in 2021. Wife is deceased and one son Raymond Peter placed with a foster family in May of 2021."

"So what does this stupid F.B.I Agent have to do with Manticore?" Jace complained. She was standing a good three feet away from Lydecker, ready to spring on him should he try anything.

"The F.B.I label is a cover-up," Max told Jace from her position beside Logan. She too was eyeing Lydecker for any sudden moves. She wasn't as adamant about killing him as Jace was but she was still wary about having him in her house. "Ames White was one of the recon agents assigned hunt down the escapees after Manticore was destroyed." Her eyes stared at the file photo of White with pure hatred. She hated him worse than Deck, if that were even possible.

"That agency was disbanded a year after it started," Deck corrected, connecting the face of White to the punk kid who had interrogated him just hours before. "The agents spent most of their time killing the X series they encountered rather than capturing them."

"That's not a surprise. Everything associated with Manticore is a dysfunctional piece of crap," Jace hissed. She didn't believe for a second that Lydecker was showing any love towards his 'kids' by being upset that a lot of them were killed by this so-called agency.

"I wouldn't be so ready to slander Manticore Jace," Deck said with quiet insistence, looking her in the face with narrow eyes, seeing her rage come to the surface at him calling her by her first name. "It was what created you in the first place."

Jace didn't buy into Lydecker's line. "Yeah and it spent the next 19 years making me pay for it." Her eyes were bursting with such a deep anger that only an unknown force was keeping her from lunging at Lydecker and ripping out his aorta. "I don't owe that place anything except a single fingered salute."

"You owe it your son," Deck pointed out matter-of-factly.

Jace moved to attack Lydecker but Max stepped and stopped her by grabbing her arm and pulling her back. "It's not worth the energy it takes to snap his neck." Jace finally stopped struggling after a few seconds but her gaze was still full of wrath.

"This Agent White better be one hell of a threat," Jace growled at Deck pulling back from Max grip. "Otherwise I'm going to town on your sorry ass."

"He's a bigger threat than Colonel Lydecker here realizes," Logan stated swiveling around in his computer chair to face them.

"If you're talking about the Familiar Cult son, I know the story. It just took me a moment to remember the face." Deck surprised Logan with his statement. He ignored the stare he was getting from the younger man and continued in his quiet commanding way. "After the Reconnaissance Agency was set up I kept tabs on all the agents personally. I wasn't about to let some half-baked morons go after my kids."

"So what did you do? Follow Ames into a strip club one day and exchanges stories for lap dances?" Max deadpanned. She stood a few inches away from Jace, arms crossed over her chest.

Deck ignored her raunchy remark. "The rumors about this particular sect have been around back since Manticore was first formed. Some of the more superstitious doctors on base even wanted to obain a sample of Familiar DNA to use in the synthesis of the X series. But of course they were fired or executed to prevent them from leaking knowledge to any outside sources."

"Must have been easy standard procedure to off someone considering your track record," Max spat.

"We were designing a totally new type of technology," Deck insisted with quiet authority still coating every part of his words. "Protecting it was top priority. You of all people should understand that. If information had leaked out you kids would've wound up spread out across international black market auction blocks going to under experienced armies for the crappiest bid."

"You must be so proud for saving us," Jace retorted in a low growl. She kept her distance from Lydecker but raised her head higher in a defiant action to assert dominance over him.

"Notwithstanding your seemingly vast knowledge of the Familiars, Lydecker, do you have any real-world proof to back up anything you told us tonight?" Logan asked.

"One week ago at 2300 hours a looped cataloging system in the mainframe of a computer was forced to manually call up certain secure data, photographs." Lydecker opened a manila folder that he had removed from his jacket and handed a stack of glossy photos to Logan. Deck had found an extra copy of the files on one of the guards. So he lifted them after the man was unconscious.

Logan stared at the first photo, not knowing what he was looking at. But soon then the image became clear. It was a picture of a barcode on the back of the neck; almost identical to Max's except for two extra digits at the end of the sequence.

A red warning box blinked on the computer screen forcing Logan to look away from the photo in his hand. He drew up a search for the number the warning had given him, which brought up his name and name of the CIA computer file. A bar was drawn across the bottom indicating the progress of the downloaded file.

"What is that?" Jace stared at the screen in confusion, she knew it was a cataloging system, but what were they cataloging?

"Someone's accessed my cataloged number at the CIA citizenbank file," Logan didn't stop working as he talked, typing a long extension command that altered the last four digits in his citizenbank file.

"You need to reroute the download," Max told him, watching the download was only 20 away from being complete.

"I know that sweetheart," Logan spoke as hurriedly as her as his fingers rapidly punched his computer keys. "Problem is this database is smart, if I give a number that doesn't exist it'll re-run the search."

"So what the hell are you doin' then?" Max retorted. She was about five seconds away from shoving Logan out of the way and diverting the download herself when she watched him complete one last file command and a few seconds later the bar measurement was halted.

"Again what the hell did you do?" Max insisted, seeing that the trace was now officially stopped.

"After someone dies in the city their citizenfile number is sent to an unused safe file until it can be deleted so I switched the names."

"You traded places with a dead guy to keep from being uncloaked?" Jace asked disgusted but with an impressed look on her face. She would have never thought of that, and she was revved up in every aspect.

"As impressive as you think that is son, it won't hold out for long." Lydecker said shutting down Logan's moment of praise. "Once they realize that you're nowhere to be found in whatever run down hovel you sent them too they'll find another route to trace you."

"It will still buy time," Logan insisted angrily. He was getting sick of being called son by Lydecker, he wasn't a damn kid. "I sent them to a dead slum crack house in Sector Four. It'll take them the entire a day to get down there before they realize they're screwed. And frankly Lydecker I need all the time I can get to listen to you explain to me how the hell images like this could exist." he waved the photos in Lydecker's face.

Deck ignored the anger in Logan's voice, he had heard it before, in the voice of pissed off new recruits, in the voices of his kids when the confronted him after the escape. It was nothing he couldn't handle. "You want to know what it is you're looking at Mr. Cale you get a hold of my kids that I know are hanging around this city tonight. Then I'll start appealing to your need for real-world proof."

XXXXXXXXX

FENTAL AVE

"If this is your idea of an enjoyable evening I should've taken my chances with Krit," Asha complained, taking a swipe at the last bit of beer from the bottom of her Heineken bottle.

Zack glared at her but didn't say anything. He was standing behind the couch and bent over to where she was sitting and snatched the bottle from her.

"It's gone genius," Asha stated, watching him tilt the bottle to his lips.

Zack scowled at her again. "Never underestimate the prowess of a Manticore mind." He threw the empty bottle over the kitchen counter where it landed in a half full plastic garbage can. He jumped over her sofa and took a seat on the arm.

"I'll stitch that on a sampler," Asha returned, looking her boyfriend full on in the face. "What is with you tonight Zack? This is so far beyond your normal brooding I'm thinking about kicking you out and getting some male prostitute action instead."

Zack let Asha's warning pass without a word. He was not in the mood for her to believe she had a hard ass side.

The lighting in Asha's living room was far from sufficient; coming only from a single wrought iron floor lamp standing in one corner. The lamp always clicked quietly when it had been running too long. And it was this that Asha thought Zack was looking at when she caught his gaze. But she soon realized that his eyes weren't looking behind her, rather they were looking low, at something between her neck and her breasts.

"You're all about being subtle tonight aren't you?" Asha asked, trying to elicit a response from Zack other then silence.

"How much did the Black Market out you for that piece of painted bling?" Zack stated, looking at a plain banded gold ring that was strung through a chain of the same metal that was hung around her neck. Zack was also just trying to elicit a response out of Asha. He could tell that the necklace was a cheap 14-karet plated chain that any gangbanger could pick up at the corner jewelry stand. But the ring was purity of gold. There were small darker areas on its surface, an oxidation coloring caused by age. But the luster of the jewelry remained in good clarity, a mark of a very expensive piece.

"It's my grandfather's," Asha said with a hint of defensiveness, but it was muted because she had come to accept a certain level of attitude from Zack.

"Does he know you hocked his piece?" Zack asked dryly.

"He died ten years ago Zack," Asha informed. "It was his wedding ring. My grandmother died two years before him so he willed it to me, his only grandchild, because he didn't want grave robbers stealing it from him later."

"At least he's a smart man," Zack concluded. "You should get it appraised," Zack picked up the ring in his fingers, gazing into his tiny warped reflection inside the ring. "You never know when you might need the extra funds."

"Actually I kinda had something different in mind than pawning my dead grandfather's wedding band," Asha insisted.

"And that would be?" Zack challenged. "If your grandfather trusted you to have it why should he care if you pawned it if you're hard up?"

Asha would've argued with any other guy who insisted she turn a family keepsake out for profit. But Zack wasn't any other guy so she let it slide. She slid both hands up and behind her neck, undoing the clasp of the chain. Holding the chain at the buckle she let the ring slide off, the cool metal landing in her palm. She shifted her attention up to Zack, looking into his brown eyes, past all the attitude, all the X5 killing ability and into the true essence of what attracted her to him, something indescribable but something unmistakable.

"I know you don't give a crap about the man made establishments of relationships, 'phony sentimentality' as you call it but I'm asking you to give a crap about me," Asha splayed her fingers out wide, displaying the ring in her palm like a sacred relic.

Zack made no move to instigate anything more or turn away for long seconds. "Am I supposed to cry now?"

"C'mon Zack," Asha retorted. "I've been with you for two years." She pushed her palm out to him, just a little, but enough to draw attention to what she was showing him. "I'm not asking for pomp and ceremony, or golden moments. All I want is something real." Her words forceful but there was a dead seriousness fueling them, rather than anger. "I love you." Her eyes fixed him in a steady, affirming gaze. "And I want you to do something about it."

"You want a fairytale Asha," Zack pushed Asha's hand away. He stood up from the couch arm. "And I don't bend that way." He headed back towards her front door.

"You can shove the way you bend Zack," Asha's voice chased after him, though she made no move to stand up. "I want you, not some damn fairy tale,"

Zack paused at her words, but he still left a few seconds later.

Asha watched him go in silence, her fingers closing around her grandfather's ring.

XXXXXXXXX

The pink neon sign outside the 'Sweet Mommy' Adult dance theatre flickered in and out. A lone female figure walked down the row of parked motorcycles, spotting a dark blue Yamaha Viper among the rides. The entrance of the building was watched over by a tall man with enormously large forearms that were exposed by a solid black muscle tank.

The man didn't hide the roaming look over the woman's body that approached the door. "Dancers use the side entrance baby."

"I think I'm gonna use the front entrance, baby," Jondy returned slamming her fist into the bouncer's crotch. She wasn't in the mood to be mentally fondled. While the bouncer recovered from the blow Jondy slipped inside the building.

The front area was dark but as Jondy got deeper inside she was assaulted with red, purple and white strobe lights that danced in wild patterns across a vast open space of a room. Kiah's raunchy song: "My Neck, My Back," was pumping through a sub woofer sound system. But even as loud as the music was it couldn't compete with the hooting and whistling sounds coming from dozens of guys lined up next to eight large circle shaped stage podiums where half naked, and almost naked women – most wearing candy apple red stiletto heels and G-strings – swirled around stripper poles.

Jondy pushed through a crowd of men that paid her no attention. She scanned the men, but after realizing she was getting no help from them she worked her way onto the nearest stage.

"Make out fest mommy!" the nearest guy shouted up at Jondy, tugging on her jeans, practically salivating.

Jondy kicked him with her boot and he landed into a group of guys who hooted at her display of martial arts. She turned up to the dancer – a very sexy tanned Haitian woman with straight brown hair that went down past her ass. "You seen a guy in here?" Jondy had to shout above all the noise of the crowd. "5' 8, Medium build, almost black hair, probably carried a lot of singles?"

"Who doesn't?" the Haitian dancer answered with a smile. She twirled once around her gold painted pole to keep the crowd from turning. She faced Jondy after her action was completed. "There a room in the back we use to give specials," the woman also had to shout to make herself heard. "I think I saw one of our girl's take a guy like that back there."

Jondy worked to keep from rolling her eyes after hearing dancer's words. "Where is this place?"

"Behind the bar," the dancer pointed over the stages to a long black bar where girls in tight white midriff baring t-shirts were serving up Vodka shots. "Green door."

"Thanks," Jondy pulled a ten from her back pocket and handed it to the dancer. She had distracted the woman from her job, and though she didn't personally get into stripping, the dancer worked hard and deserved her pay.

The woman tucked Jondy's money into her rhinestone-studded bra. "Next show, lap dance on me."

"Thanks hun," Jondy replied. "But I gotta go collect an idiot."

The 'special room' was only a fifth of the size of the dancing hall. Actually it more resembled a walk in closet then a room. A low plush black chaise lounge sat in the middle of the stark white floors and several fold out chairs with red cushioned seats were lined up against a white windowless wall.

A blonde, white-as-snow girl with a cleavage line that Jondy imaged probably weighed more then she did was sitting on the chase with a half empty shot glass in her hand. She was turned to the side and her legs – wrapped in purple lase up heels - were crossed so that her micro mini skirt rode way up to show her bright pink thong. She clutched her drink in one hand while the other was rubbing long grinding strokes into the abs of the man she was with. Her hands stayed above his clothes, but she still gave in to pleasure-filled looks as she touched him to make the experience more thrilling.

The man himself had his face turned down towards the chase so Jondy couldn't see his expression. But it was not like she wanted too.

"Krit!" Jondy's hissed.

Krit turned his head up in surprise at seeing her there. The dancer stopped her actions and looked at Jondy. She did this kind of thing for a living, but she always felt guilty if the girlfriend came in and caught her pleasing a man the way the other woman couldn't.

Jondy picked up Krit's leather jacket lying in one of the chairs and pitched it at his chest. "Break down the tents, pay the girl scout and let's go. We've got a rendezvous."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

SECTOR FOUR

Three lone prostitutes were working the corner of Fifth and Pender. Though it was chilly all the women were decked out in flashy colored tube dresses and open toed heels. Each girl paid no notice of the others, keeping their eyes cast on the poorly lit broken down road that ran in front of them. Headlights hadn't appeared in over an hour and each girl went through her own pissed off battle at having barely fifty dollars to show for her night's work.

A very faint rustle of gravel sounded off thirty feet in front of them. The rustling grew increasingly louder as a giant rumbling military shaped truck made its way down the road. The truck's headlights were turned off so no real assumptions could be made about the color of the vehicle – but it looked completely black.

The women came alive at the sounds of people near them, each planning out her attack to nab the last big trick of the evening.

The driver side door of the truck slammed shut and the sounds of shoes crunching on the gravel could be heard as the occupant of the vehicle approached the buildings behind the women.

"Hey baby, you lookin' for a good time?" A thin African American woman with Afro puffed curly hair cooed in a sultry voice to the man after he came close to her. He was dressed like a businessman, suit and tie, and black trench coat. But he was handsome, very handsome and she wanted him to do things to her. She licked her lips slowly, tracing their fullness with a pink tongue to draw attention to her mouth.

The man didn't shun her, but he paid her no attention either. His brown eyes were scanning the dilapidated building behind him where barely two minutes later three more black trench coat cloaked men came jogging out of the building.

"The building's clear sir," one of the men told his nameless partner standing beside the prostitute. "From the looks of things no one's been here for years, place is all bordered up."

Ames White silently cursed, and glared at the agent before him. "I knew there was something wrong with the assumption that a well-to-do man like Cale would live in a shit hole like this," he was not about to lay any blame on himself for being at the wrong place. The agents with him would get all the punishment because White wasn't a man who believed in discrediting himself.

The agent blanched for a moment, but kept silent. "We'll have to run a new trace, but this proves he's on to us and it'll complicate finding out where he's located."

"Then I suggest you and your other idiots get started before you're ousted from the agency and have to turn tricks with the rest of the girls," Ames pushed past the hooker who was still trying to entice him despite his obvious slam against her line-of-work. He walked back to his jeep and climbed inside the cabin. C.I.A pricks, can't even tell when they hit a dead address.

His cell phone ring cut through the air and he dug it out of his coat pocket. "Yes?"

"W'jas d'jka f'nis'ah?" ("What did you find out?") The priestess's accented voice came over the receiver.

"We hit a snag," Ames confessed to her in English. "The dumb ass agents we hired out dropped the ball on Cale's whereabouts. They probably had to fuck Renfro large just to stay at Manticore."

"I'tos c'iks w'jsa t'a D'stska p'ysa. W'ea Ne'ah in'sta f'a th'sa A'sata t'oa m'jas w'knsa." ("I don't care who the Director played. We need the information from those agents to make this work.") There was a pause over the line then the Priestess's voice came back full force. "I'jas no m'osa sn'as Enotsta. W'ea a'sa t'as c'tika'sa h'or." ("I want no more mistakes Ames. We are at the critical hour.")

"Y'ja M'ad'asa," ("Yes Ma'am,") Ames repeated, no politeness in his voice, only assertiveness. "I'as h'knas m'ah t'stisk," ("I will hit my mark.")

XXXXXX

FOGLE TOWERS

The door pushed open and Syl blew in like a whirlwind. She wasn't exactly mad, but she wasn't exactly happy either. "I was supposed to be heading home to see Craig tonight." She stopped a few feet beyond the foyer, and crossed her arms. "Boy gets one night off in two weeks and we have to play covert mission."

"Hey don't blame me for this. Charlie and I were appreciating each other's senses, you think I wanted to leave that?" Tinga's replied, her voice equally upset. She had gotten a pulse tone message on her answering machine and had to drop everything and come over to the penthouse.

From the couch Zack and Zane didn't say anything. Zane was too engrossed in a beer he had found in the back of Logan's fridge. And Zack was unusually quiet, lost in thought. But because of the strangeness of the situation no one noticed. They had all been 'paged' for this meet up yet no one knew what the hell they were there for.

The door pushed open again a second later to reveal Jondy shoving Krit into the penthouse ahead of her. "I can't believe you ran out of bills," Jondy said disgustedly, pushing Krit in the direction of the couch. She did not like having to pay for his public enjoyment.

"Hey if you didn't want to fork over the green Jondy you should've said so," Krit defended, hissing a second later as Jondy kicked him in the shins.

"What's with the loner?" Zane broke his silence and looked towards Alec who was standing a few inches behind Jondy.

Jondy didn't turn to acknowledge the other X5 but she answered Zane's question. "He followed me here after hearing about this whole urgent tone thing," All the X5's had gotten the same pulse tone message – a bunch of predetermined patterned clicks – Morse code.

"Great," Tinga complained, not really about Alec, just about things in general. "We're all held up in Maxie's apartment and none of us knows the hell why."

"It's not in your best interest to question the situation."

The voice made them all turn, right into the face of Don Lydecker as he slowly made his way into the group of X5's who looked too shocked to take him down, for now at least.

"Since when does an X5 reunion include the alcoholic military?" Zane snapped. He stood up from his seat and stared into Lydecker's face – eyes he hadn't seen in over fourteen years. And they were as cold to him now as they were then.

Lydecker didn't return Zane's sneer as he stepped into the group of X5's. The look in his eyes could only be described as that of an inventor observing some of his prized work that had escaped his eyes for years.

None of the siblings were kids anymore; they had grown up in an outside world and had left Manticore behind them as adults. But the way Deck was staring at them struck a deep chord in each of them. Even though any one of them could kill him where he stood, they realized that they could never get away from the power that Donald Lydecker had over them.

"What the hell do you want Lydecker?" Zack spat, no longer being quiet. As the oldest of the X5 unit he was asserting dominance over a man he didn't want to have any contact with them. He jumped up from the couch he was sitting so fast that if he had applied that same force to a punch he could've penetrated a man's eyeballs to the back of his skull.

"Each of you is composed of the finest military genetics on the face of the planet." Deck fell into his quiet commandeering tone that they all know too well. "Even though you may think you left that all behind after the escape it's a lie. You can never escape who and what you are. You're soldiers," he gave a grand pause as if one of them had gasped in recognition. "And I'm calling in your markers."

"Yeah and you're going to be calling God to have him pick you up," Syl launched herself at Deck, going for the vulnerable flesh of his throat, but a force equal to hers held her back. And Syl stared with the bewildered realization that it had been Max who prevented her assault.

"Back off baby sister I'm going to end this right now," Syl's words were deadly with venom.

"Back down Syl," Max's words seemed crazy to Syl and she tried again to attack Lydecker, managing to get her hands around his neck before Max pulled her off again.

Syl reeled at Max. "What the hell is wrong with you?" her voice was full of pure confusion. She glared at Lydecker with all the love of a lion to a gazelle it was about to mutilate.

"Would you guys please keep your voices down?" Logan requested from his position beside the couch. "You'll wake up the kids, and I'd rather they not come into something like this."

Syl whipped around to him. "Then your wife needs to explain what the hell her deal is." Syl wasn't really angry with Max she was just really, really confused and Max was the closet outlet for this confusion.

"I don't like this situation anymore then you do Syl," Max clarified. "But Donald here claims he's sitting on a vital piece of information that affects the outcome of everyone in this room."

"So you're just gonna take him at his word Maxie?" Zack growled, not at all convinced that Lydecker suddenly switched to their side. "He'll double cross us in a heartbeat."

"He's obviously desperate to unload whatever 411 he's locked away other wise he wouldn't bother coming to us at all," Max returned. "That means we have the upper hand, isn't that right Don?" She wasn't waiting for Lydecker to actually speak so when he did she was surprised.

"Sharing classified information, even to a elite unit of my own command is a grave offense, but desperate times call for desperate measures," Lydecker talked to Max, but he was really speaking to all of them.

"It must be really desperate measures if the mad scientist needs help from his lab rats," Jondy stated, in a voice devoid of all humor.

"Tell them about the photos," Max insisted, staring down Lydecker, arms crossed, ready to spring on him if need be. Her response made her siblings look at her in confusion. But their confusion soon turned to bewilderment when Logan laid out the five black and white photos of the barcode strings.

Tinga's eyes widened as she recognized one of the barcode strings. "What the hell?" The barcode was identical to hers except for two extra numbers on the ending sequence, numbers that read simply '01' She launched a glare at Lydecker, demanding answers. "You created a new race of Manticore from my DNA?" Tinga was beyond disgusted, she was furious.

"I didn't create a new race," Lydecker insisted quietly. "You did." Tinga's eyes went even wider, but Deck didn't stop talking. "You never bothered to check after your son was born and notice a barcode on his neck-"

"What the hell kinda shitty game are you playing Deck?" Tinga cut in. "My son has no damn barcode-"

"It would've appeared very briefly, a few seconds at most, then fade away like it was never there." Lydecker cut back in.

Zack's face that had displayed complete confusion until now suddenly contoured into realization, remembering the back of Lucy's neck six weeks ago. "What the hell are they for? These barcodes?" He believed what Deck was saying, not because he had said it but because he had seen these barcodes first hand.

"Manticore encoded DNA markers into your bodies. These markers are passed on to any offspring you conceived, and in the event of separation in the mission, can be used to track them down and return them to base command," Deck answered Zack's question with no feeling in his voice. And it unnerved the X5's even more than if he had gone into an angry tirade.

"You put a hit out on our kids before they were even born?" Max retorted angrily. She had pushed Syl away but now she was the one who was up in his face.

"Each one of you is worth millions," Deck was still calm. Hostility was a sign of losing control and he stuck to that belief. "If word got out about the existence of genetically modified soldiers – some of which could replicate their DNA in reproduction every bounty hunter and mercenary in the world would be banging down the doors of Manticore to steal the technology."

"So you affixed my son with a brand that could tell you where he is at any given moment?" Jace joined in the hate fest towards Lydecker. She never understood completely why she had stayed at Manticore but Lydecker was defiantly not one of the reasons.

"Up until the '09 escape the markers were just designed as an easier way to track any retrofit breeding that was done between two X classes," Deck spoke to them like he was their teacher, and they were eager to learn. "It was only after the escape did the extra insurance of the code come to light after the first one of you blipped the radar with unauthorized reproduction."

"So you and your Manticore tech prickheads took it upon yourselves to catalog each time one of my kids were born like rats in a lab?" Max retorted. She had backed down from Lydecker's face but she was still assault distance from him.

"Manticore technology is worth millions Max," Deck stated, still calm, but a quiet anger starting to rise. He did not get talked down to by one of his own soldiers. "I wasn't about to jeopardize the entire project because some of my kids couldn't keep their legs closed."

"More to the point-" Logan broke in, just as heated as Max. "We need to know if anyone else saw these files in this databank and what it is exactly Ames White plans to do with this information."

"What the hell does White have to do with this?" Alec spoke up. He had no love lost for the man who turned him out to murder in order to save his life.

"He's the one who called up the photos Alec," Logan said curtly, holding back a verbal lashing on Lydecker by sheer will power. He had no idea how much the other man really knew about White's plan and he hated having to trust him without any real justification as to why.

"What's that freak planning to do with those pics, play kiddy porn?" Though Alec's quick wit wasn't fitting for the moment, he used it any way.

"Those images are only aesthetic to Agent White's real objective," Deck said.

"Fark it out old man, we haven't got all day," Zack snarled.

"He wants the DNA those barcodes represent," Lydecker continued, going on because he wanted too, not because Zack had threatened him. "Each one of those images represents a successful X5/Human hybrid. A being whose genetic matrix is more stable then the original Manticore prototypes which will allow for the most successful combining of their DNA and the genetics of the Familiar race." Lydecker paused, out of breath, but he also realized it was a good dramatic pause by the way his kids were practically salivating for him to go on. "He wants to recreate Manticore, make it sounder, more stable and more productive then it was."

All the X5's felt like they had been kicked in the gut as the reality of Deck's words sank in. But once the initial shock wore off they were left with a raw hostility that threatened to tear them apart unless an outlet could be provided for it.

"Why the fuck are you telling us this Donald?" Zane pushed by Max and glared at Lydecker. He was much shorter then Zane remembered and he used this to his advantage. "You want to double cross us before you get your cut?"

"I say we kill him now," Tinga insisted. "Take the win."

"I have no doubt of your ability to do so," Lydecker returned in a too normal of a voice when talking about his impending death. "It's what you all were trained to do."

"Shut up!" Zack barked getting so close to Lydecker's face that he could smell the coffee on his breath.

"But doing so will leave you exposed, vulnerable to the Familiar objective."

"I don't hear any suggestions to reverse that plan coming from you mouth," Zack growled. With his acute hearing he could hear the pulsating of blood traveling up Deck's Aorta vein into his brain, triggering the formation of a thought that was about to become vocal.

"My plan Zack is to prevent this atrocity from ever happening. Manticore represents years of advanced genetic engineering; and I'm not about to let some sewer mutant cult contaminate that reputation." Deck said all this with a passion of a man who would do whatever it took to have his way.

"And our objective is what?" Jondy retorted. " Stand on the sidelines and cheer your slimy ass on?"

"You are all soldiers," Lydecker insisted. He stepped away from Zack's hostile glare and moved to stand in the middle of floor, as if trying to encompass the entire room. "This objective is a battle. So you will do what any good soldier met with a battle will do – and that's fight."

"Sorry we left our guns and ammo in our other pants," Max snapped.

Lydecker turned to her with such a fierce glare that if she wasn't use to such looks from him she would have run away screaming. "You think this is a game Max? Do you have any indication as to what would happen to your children if the Familiars got a hold of them? They won't care that they come from a privileged line. I don't have to remind you that DNA samples don't have to be collected from live specimens. If this threat is not taken down then your kids are as good as dead." The last words were directed at every one of them.

XXXXXXXXX

SECTOR FOUR - UNKNOWN LOCATION

Ames White waited impatiently for his jeep to be allowed access through the sector stops. A sports motorbike in front of him revved up and the exhaust puffed a steady stream of dust his windshield. White glared at the rider, finally deciding to fling him – bike and all – against the side of the road. But the Sector Cop at the checkpoint waved the bike rider through seconds before White could initiate his plan.

The cop stuck his head in through White's rolled down tinted window, filling the jeep's cabin with his rancid coffee breath. "Pass buddy."

White turned to him and affixed him with a hostile glare that didn't belong on a human face. "Sorry I left it at home." He gripped his palm around the cop's face like a claw and dug into his eye sockets with his fingers. The cop screamed, feeling three tiny capillaries burst in each eye, which clouded his vision in a haze of blood. Ames released him ten seconds later and flung him against the concrete 'station room' of the checkpoint.

The Sector Cop's partner jumped out of the station and shot off rounds from his AK-47, trying to blow the jeep's tires out. But Ames had already broken through the barricade and was too far out of range for the cop's bullets. After a few minutes had elapsed White no longer heard the sounds of the semi-automatic weapon and slowed his jeep's speed from 112 to 65, a crawl in his mind.

"Agent White," a crackling noise came through a silver RCA two-way radio lying in the seat next to Ames. He picked it up and connected to the frequency. "What is it?" This sure as hell better be good news.

"We think we may have a lead on where Colonel Lydecker has gone." The voice on the other end of the radio transmission was not a Familiar but a former Manticore Employee. A geneticist that had a background in combat fieldwork from the Marines. His former duty at Manticore was to keep tabs on the X series that went into combat missions and report to his superiors any errors he found in their abilities that could be corrected later at base command. He happened to be at the signal command the night Manticore was destroyed and had avoided relocation by finding a niche working with the recon unit assigned bring back the escapees. A few years after Renfro's death he had heard of the quiet organization wanting to rebuild base command and he sided with it believing Colonel Lydecker to be a dangerous live wire and a threat to genetic advancement.

"Is this as good as your lead to your former college Agent?" White's voice was beyond hostile; it was deadly.

The nameless agent winced from his end, knowing full well of what White spoke of. Manticore had gone on full red alert as soon as it became evident it would be destroyed. All of the top geneticists had been forced to hand over their hard files and research on the transgenics. Then they had all been forced into military Humvees at gunpoint to either have their memories erased of their knowledge of the project or executed if they knew too much to be let out. There was another tech he had worked with– Victor he thought was his name– who had avoided capture by stealing a guard's gun and escaped out through the basement before the fire started. His partner was caught, and interrogated for hours as to where Victor had gone but the former Marine had managed to escape and when he found out that Victor hadn't been caught, and had in fact slept with one of the transgenic freaks he knew that he had to side with White to 'correct' this matter.

"Agent stop whacking yourself and tell me your information!"

White's pissy voice brought the man out of his thoughts so surprisingly that his head jerked forward and smacked against the steering wheel of his black nondescript sedan. "Lydecker smashed the tracer we put in his pocket but he must not have known it was there for quite a while because the tracker picked up his last whereabouts in Sector Nine."

"The high rise district," White said more to himself then to the agent. "You confused a luxury apartment for some dilapidated slum in Sector Four!" White always enjoyed making ex-marines squirm.

"Our information was tampered with Sir," the man tried to reconcile.

"So what makes you think I should believe your sorry ass now?" White snarled.

"The readout stopped at Sector Nine Sir," the man insisted, finally finding a more manly voice again. "Cale is a wealthy man; if he has a swanky place to live in this run down city why the hell would he move out?"

The agent had a point, but White wasn't about to congratulate him. "The high rise area isn't easier to locate someone in than the slums Agent, rich people tend to guard their mansions harshly."

"We're running a new trace on Cale now, but he has ten fire walled sequence encryptions around every piece of personal information in the Seattle mainframe. It will take at least a day to break the codes."

"I don't care if he has an entourage of dragons guarding him and that X5 trash he calls his wife, I want his location found, do you understand this Agent?"

"Yes Sir," there was a touch of malice in the agent's voice at being talked down too. But there was also an underlying fear of Agent White that kept his words in check. There was a loud hissing of static as White ended the frequency and cursed obscenities in a language only a select few could understand.

XXXXXXX

FOGLE TOWERS - 12: 15 AM

Max sat in the mahogany rocker in the nursery. She nursed Lucy, but the content that was normally on her face during this time was replaced with a wary uneasiness. The chair didn't rock, stilled by her foot on the ground.

"This is a bunch of bullshit," Zack hissed from his standing position in the middle of the nursery floor. "Lydecker's words are crap. He'd never set us up for a fair fight."

"We all know the mantra Zack," Jondy returned. She was leaned up against the wall of the nursery, one foot against the plaster. "But none of us are expecting Deck to fight fair. He wants to cover himself. Manticore technology in the wrong hands is a kick in the balls to him."

"Not as hard of a kick as I'd give him if he lays anymore of that 'good soldier' crap on us," Krit stated, standing close beside Jondy.

The X5's had crammed into Lucy's nursery to have private conversation regarding the information Lydecker had blatantly presented them. The only ones not inside the room were Logan and Jace. Logan was currently working to hack into a GPS satellite to try and locate any unusual convoys of military vehicles in Seattle that night. And Jace was with him to keep an eye on Max, and to make sure Lydecker didn't come anywhere near him.

"We are good soldiers Krit," Syl insisted. "We got out of Manticore with our asses still intact."

"Some better then others," Alec commented dryly, not hiding a casual yet definite eye roam over Jondy, who ignored him but didn't tell him to back off. "Manticore obviously got desperate enough to want to latch onto the Familiar lifestyle. They're some freaky sons-of-bitches that would make Colonel Lydecker in there have to cath himself."

"That still doesn't mean he's telling the truth," Zack snapped glaring at Alec like a kid who had wandered into a war briefing. "He's probably in with the ancient cult of the damned and is just waiting for us to agree to be stupid so he can hand off his goods."

"You don't need help to be stupid Zack; you do fine on your own." Alec returned. He had never understood what made Zack think he was so in command. Zack's returning glare on Alec was blood seeking but Alec started speaking before anything could go down: "Lydecker may be a moronic jackass but I doubt even he would want to hand off a reinstatement of Manticore to someone with an agenda that so completely clashes with is own." Alec paused for a moment to watch Max stand up from the rocker with Lucy. "You honestly think that he would drop this kind of information if these precious Manticore/human hybrids weren't in danger of being out of his reach?"

"So what if it's true?" Zack challenged, taking two steps towards Alec. "We're supposed to go back to being brainwashed by Lydecker on the off chance of a half assed threat?"

"Tell that to your sisters Zackie-boy," Alec returned, his eyes locked on Zack's accepting his challenge and tearing it down. "I'm sure they'll be as adamant as you to sacrifice their children's lives because Big Brother Commando can't recognize what's really there."

Zack took another threatening step towards Alec and they would've come to blows but Tinga's commanding voice cut through the air:

"Shut up!" She pushed herself between the two and whipped her head towards Zack. "I don't give a shit what your beef is with him, Zack, but you better grill it and eat it because he's right. Lydecker's got too much at stake to double cross us, and so do I." She was the second oldest of the X5 siblings and she was making Zack remember that.

"You don't have kids Zack," Max stated, a low growl in her voice. "If there's even a half assed threat against my babies then I'm taking that plan to save them however tainted you may think it is."

"Fine, if you want to go in blind Maxie; go ahead. But don't think I'm going along with this willingly." Zack had plenty to hate about this situation. But in reality he didn't want Manticore to be reborn any more then any of them did, and this seemed the only way to annihilate the problem before it spread.

"None of us expect you to big brother," Jondy insisted. "Otherwise we'd know it was a bad plan." She moved towards the door. "Let's go, before the bastard finds a way to elude the deal."

They poured out of the nursery with expressionless faces. Manticore had already been reborn in that instant as the siblings drew upon Manticore learned masks of indifference to shield any emotions from Lydecker as they faced him.

"We're agreeing to the objective Lydecker," Tinga spoke up for her brothers and sisters, she knew Zack would say something long winded and she wanted to keep this short and definitively clear. "But if there's even the slightest hint that you're playing us, the plan to not maim you is off."

"I don't want to see your son wind up in the wrong hands anymore then you do Tinga," Deck said quietly once Tinga's tirade was done.

"Suck up time is over Colonel," Zack hissed. "Get to the objective before you lose more than your flimsy credibility." He stared warily at Lydecker. He hated every part of this deal and didn't mind expressing it.

"The objective is simple Zack," Deck returned calmly, not intimidated by the words of a soldier he himself had trained. "We all have a common enemy out there, and that enemy needs to be taken down."

"Wow you should've told me us it was that simple Lydecker," Krit spat. "I could've scheduled more time at the bars." His voice still had the humoristic tone he was known for, but there was also an angry seriousness in it. "So what's the break down of your cake walk plan?"

"Wherever Agent White is it's somewhere in the city. It took me only a few hours to get to this Sector." Lydecker began. "My guess is he's based on the outskirts of one of the first three sectors."

"You're a smart little prick aren't you?" Jace cut in. She was standing in the door less entryway that led to the bedrooms of the penthouse. Her body was fully erect and tense, the stance of a mother guarding the son that was sleeping in one of those rooms.

Lydecker ignored her completely and went on, speaking as commandingly to them as he did when they were still under his authority at Manticore. "This cult, the Familiars, are nothing new. Their existence goes back further then the creation of Manticore. After base command was established there were rumors of security leaks. They wanted Manticore technology. Their plans were always revealed before anything could be instigated but the leak always remained there for them to feed on." Deck paused for a moment, gearing up to reveal something he had told no one, not even his closet informants. As a Delta Special Op he had learned the value of keeping secrets. "Director Renfro was the leak."

Though this was a crucial piece of information Renfro had been killed four years ago in the blast that destryoed Manticore. So none of the X5's knew why the hell a dead woman's dirty past mattered anymore.

"And how the hell is that viable now?" Alec was the first one to ask the question they were all thinking. "Last time I checked Renfro was dead."

"Don't you get it?" Deck returned to the X5 that hadn't made the escape in '09, someone with more extensive training than even his kids – who should've connected the pieces. "Renfro formed an alliance years ago with the Familiars to give them a viable Manticore female capable of passing on her genetics to her offspring. But two X5 soldiers removed her from the lab before the transaction could be made."

Max and Zack shared a silent exchange at Lydecker's words. It was they who had rescued Tinga – the viable Manticore female – four years ago from a containment facility. She hadn't seen Lydecker there, but Max knew that he wasn't out of the loop of what happened, and judging by his words tonight he was there, watching them the whole time.

"Director Renfro continued to sell Manticore genetics to the Familiars," Deck went on, not loosing a beat in his conversation. "But after her death Manticore fell apart and the deal was terminated. But quiet meetings were still going on between them and loyalists to Renfro. And talk began of reestablishing the pact with the Familiars," Deck pasued again, not out of vanity, but because he was running out of breath. "Tonight I came across this cult, not by personal choice, and I was made aware of their plans to reinstate Manticore and contaminate what it took years to create."

"You want us to take down the Familiars?" Alec said suddenly understanding the grand scale of Lydecker's words. "An ancient line that's been pissing it up for thousands of years is going to be taken down by a bunch of maladjusted soldiers?"

"Don't ever underestimate where you came from son," Deck snapped coldly, glaring right into Alec's eyes.

"I don't," Alec returned Lydecker's cold glare. "I'm underestimating where you're coming from."

Deck backed off Alec and faced the others with the authority of the Colonel he was. "This is what you were designed for, what you trained for, and I will call in your markers regardless of any piss poor excuses."

"The only piss poor excuse is you Donald," Max stated matter-of-fact and stepped right up into Deck's face. Fighting the Familiars was a huge task even if the pretended to know how to approach it. And doing it with Lydecker was not something any of them were looking forward to. But for all his lies Max knew he was telling the truth about this. And if she wanted to save her children, she would have to do this. "We'll agree to the war but not the terms. You didn't call in our markers, we came on our ownThis fight is not about you. Every threat we have to face is because of you, so no one gives a damn about your loyalty speech – this thing is done to save our families understand?"

Max didn't expect Lydecker to answer her but he did. "Then I suggest things get started. Enough time has been wasted on just talking."

XXXXXX

JAM PONY - THE NEXT DAY

12: 15 PM

Max parked her Ninja outside Jam Pony, not even bothering to lock it up, because she wouldn't be long and if someone was looking to steal her bike she wasn't in the mood to be non-violent about getting it back.

The messenger service was alive with runners going back and forth, both on foot and on bikes. It was a crowded chaotic scene, yet through it all Normal managed to spot Max as she walked down the ramp that lead inside the building.

"What are you doing here?" was Normal's greeting to Max. "Your maternity leaves not over for two more weeks. You're not getting extra cash for coming in early and doing nothing."

"Have you seen Original Cindy?" Max didn't comment on Normal's tirade. Like she wanted to end her maternity leave early to hang around with him.

"She's on another one of her self-appointed breaks," Normal informed her in exasperation. Max started to walk away but he still called out to her: "If your friend can't handle good honest work then she needs to stop wasting my time!"

Max did what she always did when Normal yelled at her, ignored him. She found Cindy sitting at the only table that was in their designated 'break room.' There was no food in front of her, but she was still taking advantage of the time to have a conversation with one of the younger runners.

"Mind if I interrupt?" Max asked a needless question. She had no concern about cutting into Cindy's time collecting dates, since she usually preferred long legs and breasts to flat cheasted guys. But she still didn't want to just order her girl out of a conversation.

Cindy turned to Max's voice, slightly surprised to see her because – like Normal – she knew that Max was still on leave. "Hey boo. Why are you dissin' a much needed break to hang out in this dump?"

"I needed to chat with my home girl," Max answered smoothly, feeling a smile wanting to emerge her face despite what she had come here for. But it never made it to the surface because Max had something very serious weighing on her brain. "You mind if we privatize?"

Cindy turned from Max and looked at Richard, the 19-year-old runner she had been conversing with. "Sorry to cut this short suga, but my girl and I need some time on the DL."

"No big deal," Richard returned, standing up from the rusted out white washed chair he had been sitting in. "I should be getting back on a run before Normal decides to fire me anyway." Richard was as drop dead handsome as Zack, but he had none of the cockiness. He had grown up in a matron-run family of three sisters and had high respect for the female gender. "You're lookin' really nice Max," his words had the usual trace of desire of a man to a very attractive woman. But he only meant it as a one-way compliment.

"Thanks," Max accepted the compliment and offered Richard a smile as he departed from the table.

"So what's the dealio suga?" Cindy jumped right into the conversation Max had wanted them to have alone.

Max slid into a vacant seat across from Cindy, and rested her elbows on the table, her leather jacket rustling at her movements. All her actions were done in complete silence and Cindy knew right away that something wasn't right. "What is it boo?" Her words were met with more silence from Max. Cindy leaned up over the table, starting to suspect that whatever was going on was more serious then she knew. Max always went silent when something really major was going down. "You can tell Original Cindy anything girl, you know that right?" She set a hand on Max's arm and caressed the bicep for a few seconds. "Cause I'm down like that, and I'll be here for ya."

Max's eyes had been downcast the entire time. She forced down a weak sounding sigh that was building in her throat and cast a dead serious gaze at her friend. "I need you to do something for me."

XXXXXXXX

SEATTLE - UNKNOWN SECTOR

"What the hell is the meaning of this turtle pace?" Ames White's booming voice preceded him like a trumpeter as he banged through the double metal doors.

He had walked into a vast concrete building two stories high. Narrow metal catwalks hung suspended from the ceiling. Beside them large aluminum masses that resembled the noses of 747 jumbo jets emerged from the floor like the last remains of a city after a nuclear war. The huge frame of these machines contained long exhaust pipes that pointed skyward and thick clouds of hot steam emitted from them at ten second intervals. The steam humidified the air of the enclosure so much that it felt like a tropical rainforest. Men in white lab coats, and four or five in black business suits scurried around below the catwalks to lab stations that consisted of long banquet sized tables covered in electronic microscopes and top of the line computers.

The workers hurried around like a newsroom before a major story break. They were so lost in the chaotic mess that was their jobs that White's comment went virtually unnoticed, something that infuriated Ames.

He stormed off to the nearest lab station where a balding man sat at a Pentium X04-Class laptop – a very high tech computer designed in 2008 to aid the covert Star Wars Missile Defense System. The tech stared intently at his computer screen that was showing a map out of a single slice of human chromosome 13. His concentration was suddenly interrupted when a large hand seized his lab coat and yanked him to his feet so fast that the coffee he was reaching for splashed to the floor under his workstation.

"Agent White," the tech gazed startled into the angry glare of Ames's face. The hot breath on his neck made the room ten times warmer then it already was.

"Do you have some problem with your ears that needs to be corrected?" White snapped. He was so close to the tech's face that he could see the sweat beads forming at the bridge of his nose.

White didn't wait for the man to give him a pitiful 'no sir' response. "I want to know why the hell it takes an entire day just to find where one damn person lives!"

The tech squirmed under White's grip, begging like a snared animal to be let free. "Sir, I'm not in charge of surveillance and recon but I can assure you that we're working our asses off to break through Cale's security mainframe before the day is out."

White was completely unexcited by the techs attempt at reassuring words. He was beginning to wonder just how many techs it took to locate one damn address. Nevertheless he released the tech's lab coat causing him to fall back hard on the cushioned computer chair. Ames left him there like a frightened child and went in search of the group of ten agents he had given the appointed task of handling all the surveillance work.

He found them all busily hunched over their computers just like the prior man had been doing. But unlike their counterpart these individuals were not geneticists – they couldn't match any of the Harvard medical intelligence the first technician had displayed, but they were not there for that reason. They were the nervous system of the operation. They compiled all data taken from the outside world and relayed it back to the other agents and lab techs. They were the remains of what once had been a hundred-man Cryptology Unit at Manticore. It had been their jobs to encrypt any outgoing data concerning covert missions; also they were responsible for breaking through the codes of private investors who thought they could cheat Manticore in order to steal their technology. They had been displaced after the fire and those that escaped reconditioning were at a loss as to what to do next. After hearing about the plan to recreate Manticore they hired themselves out to the Familiars rather than being on the bad side of the movement and hunted down for what they knew.

The computers these men, and one single woman - whose features were so austere she could very well be mistaken for a man – worked on were concealed by cubicles that blocked their work from view completely, even from their own coworkers. If any of them made a discovery that needed attention or input they would push a red signaling button located next to their CPU and it would intern signal the other agents in the sect to converge on the cubicle. They were working on very classified information; and the Familiar's, being a higher bred version of human and much smarter then modern man knew; were aware of weaknesses that made human beings too curious and competitive for their own good. If one of the agents oversaw something he shouldn't have before he was properly debriefed they could easily be bought by the Black Market.

Ames stopped in front of the first cubicle, staring at the man designated as the Special Agent in Charge for the surveillance unit. On his Pentium monitor was a map of Sector Nine. Every residential building was lit up in red and coordinates were given below them as to their exact location. Several of the apartment buildings surrounding Mayor Steklar's multimillion dollar library had their coordinates X'd out and the SAC was busy typing out commands on a text area below the map that was opened to the City of Seattle Mainframe file catalog of all it's citizens.

"I only hope that all this fanfare is bringing up good news," Ames voice made the SAC swivel in his chair.

He was younger then the technician that White had first confronted, but not by much. Specks of gray doted his black hair around the ears set below a square forehead and prominent Anglo Saxon nose. But his eyes were what made others take him seriously. They were translucent pewter gray and were set in a way that made him look permanently pissed off. But when he heard Ames's voice behind him a cloud settled over his steel-eyed expression, because the man he was looking at scared the hell outta him, and demanded his respect.

"The trace is running Sir," the SAC reassured trying to find his voice in a throat that had suddenly gone drier then dust. "But it's a slow and arduous process. I don't know what the hell kinda work Cale does, but he made damn sure no one is able to look at his stuff." The SAC broke off to wipe away a collection of sweat that had accumulated at the back of his neck staunching his white dress shirt.

"It's been over three hours," White insisted. "And you have the highest damn form of tracing gear known in existence, you should've made headway." White wasn't expecting a hat trick but his agents just couldn't keep screwing up on their jobs and begging him for mercy.

"We have Sir," the SAC replied turning back to his computer to make sure none of his lower agents could see him cracking under Ames White's sterile glare. "Cale is one hell of a smart tech head to set up this kind of security system. The first three firewalls we broke through were smoke screens. After we broke the codes the system it recognized it had been infiltrated and froze up, reset it's passwords with completely new symbols and kicked us right back to where we started."

"Another dead end Agent?" White's voice dripped with blood lust. "These just keep adding up don't they?"

"There may be another way Sir," the SAC insisted turning back to his computer screen. "This map shows the layout of Sector Nine. All the X'd out coordinates we know for a fact aren't your guy." He typed a command out, banging on the computer keys with long fingers. "Now his encryption system may be state of the art but each time after I attempt to break through a firewall it sent an Electro pulse through to some location here in the Sector. Cale somehow managed to connect his computer permanently with every mainframe in the city, my guess is to run checks on who was trying to access his files." His fingers stilled on the keys for a few seconds before he hit one simple command: Control Alt F5 which brought up a Sonar resonance imager – a program that transformed sound waves into wave graphs where frequency pitches could be compared. "This city is filled with high pitched frequencies from cell phones, hover drone satellites. But his security system is unique, with a distinct wavelength. So all we have to do now is rebreak the firecodes and send the signal out again. Once it's out we filter out all the background noise and find out where the pulse wave was transmitted too."

"Fine," White was finally becoming pleased at the way things were turning, but it would take another three or four hours they didn't have just to try all the different symbols to rebreak the firewalls around Logan Cale's files. "But if this doesn't work you and every damn agent in this city will be walking on foot and banging on every door in that goddamn Sector until you find them." He wasn't serious because he knew how easily people could tip the man of a convoy after him. His eyes spotted the Priestess at the head of the room where one of the metal machines was particularly loud, sounding like a dozen men grinding metal in their teeth No one else was within fifteen feet of her because the noise – although not completely unbearable – was suffocating.

The Priestess took no notice of the noise. Her ears were the size of any woman's but she had the unique ability to fold them against her head, blocking out sound so much that any audio stimuli came to her muffled. Though this made her hearing limited she was a master of reading the senses of those around her. She smelled the pheremones of White before he even came close enough for her to see him. Once he was within her line of sight she stepped away from the hissing monster of a hydraulic motor so as not to have to shout to him. After she sensed the noise had settled down enough her ears came untucked from her head and she shook them a little, like a dog does when they itch.

"What of the progress?" She gazed up into Ames's eyes. She was almost as tall as he was and she used this power to her advantage.

"Slow, remedial," Ames responded in a normal voice. They were around those who knew of their project, there was no need to be secretive.

"Siding with pathetic human minds has its consequences Enosta you know that," the Priestess called Ames in English by his F'Tusa, or "power name"It was given to every first born Familiar male by his father to ensure his son would exert power right from the first moment he was alive. In his case it meant: "Firewalker", but in English the closet translation had simply come out to Ames.

Ames actually drew his features into a small laugh like he had shared some inside joke with the Priestess. "What's with the high minded apparel?" He changed topics and spoke of her clothes.

The Priestess was wearing black silk Cheongsam – a traditional Chinese long narrow skirted gown – that covered her from the top of her green neck and ended just above her ankles. It was covered with embroidered white cherry blossoms with silver buttons at the high collar. The dress itself was incredibly beautiful but on the Priestess green body it didn't look beautiful, but out of place, ghastly against her skin.

"I came from a meeting," the Priestess returned. She had a love of Chinese clothing, the silks the designs. She knew she was nowhere close to being pretty. But dressing in the extravagantly designed silk gave her a sense of raw power. Ancient Chinese beauties had been cunning thieves and murders wearing such lavish garments and the Priestess would do the same. "T'jaksa V'jska p'nsa 'wiksa w'nas En'osta, b'jas he'a I'mpa'ta fo's re'ja p'has to'baj." ("The Elders are very proud of your work Ames, but they are impatient to begin the Second Phase.")

Ames looked her up and down but without any trace of lust or a simple observing of a female form. "Sj'ka d'jak t'ah p'saka to'sa mk's lan'ah'ik P'nosta?" ("So you decided to give them pleasure to make them wait Priestess?")

"Kil'sa E'noa U'tusa!" The Priestess snapped annoyed. The meaning of her phrase was so complicated that no exact English wording would explain it but it roughly translated to: "Fuck you." "C'jsa m'as En'osta, I'ja to'sa di'kas u'as s'kaisa." ("Your men Ames, I have doubt they will be as useful as you claim.")

"They're doing their job, albeit half assed." Ames switched back to English, wanting the ex-Manticore workers to hear what he was saying. "We will have our people with them when the real moment comes."

The Priestess stared out into the mass of workers too busy to pay her the same attention she had gotten in the bar on the previous night. "This work they do now is a test Ames." She also fell back into English, watching the workers scurry around them like rats with their tails on fire. "And they are shitting up their examination with their slowness. Colonel Lydecker should've been found hours ago. The files he took are of great value and shouldn't have left our complex."

"Lydecker knows nothing he hasn't already," White insisted. "He trained these transgenics, he oversaw the cataloging system we came across. Nothing viable has escaped."

"Except Colonel Lydecker," the Priestess hissed turning her full attention back to Ames, her eyes going Cat's eye yellow again. "These transgenics of his are the entire reason this project is able to survive. Without their DNA everything is worthless."

"I don't have to be reminded of that," Ames said curtly, lowering his voice to a quiet anger. "This entire project would not have even come into existence had I not been trusted enough to be assigned to a Manticore recon unit after the fallout."

The Priestess eye's shifted again and now the pupils were blood red. "You have been trusted to head this yes, but be mindful Ames-" she was older then him by one hundred years and her dominance over him echoed in every word she said. "The project is built on a house of cards. Until we've cemented our cornerstone by successfully creating the new transgenic line even the slightest change in the air will destroy our work." She said nothing to Ames about warning him not to screw up, but the warning was lurking behind her statement. The project was entering its final phase; a slip up now would prove deadly.

Her blood red pupils bore into Ames' head. "Watch your men carefully, as soon as the readout on Colonel Lydecker's location is unearthed I want to be notified." The Priestess was as commanding as Anna Renfro, but a thousand times more dangerous.

"Of course Mig'akas'a," Ames called the Priestess by the name that had been given to her by the Head Priestess of the Familiars. It had become her new name much like a nun's Sisterly title became hers when she entered the Convent. But the Priestess refused to use it because the Head Priestess had always hated her and had humiliated her to no end with her name, which meant the same thing as the English equivalent of: "slut" but with the sacred prefix of "Mig" attached to the front of it, so that her full name was: "Holy Slut"

The Priestess glared at Ames with as much hatred as any female who had been talked down to, and in a very American hard ass way, she flipped him off with a green leathery middle finger. She dropped the offensive gesture a second later and stood once again in a dignified manner. "I suggest you get to work Agent White, you've wasted enough time already."

XXXXXX

FOGLE TOWERS - 6: 15 PM

Deck stood once again virtually on top of Logan watching him access Sector maps with the ease of a man who had done it for years. "I'll bet you never thought that one moment in front of a minister would result in such consequences."

"When you care about someone you do what you have to," Logan returned continuing on with his typing sensing Deck's retaliation was imminent. "Whatever happens as a result will just have to be dealt with."

"You don't have to convince me son," Lydecker said emotionlessly. "I felt the same way about my wife."

Logan's hands stilled on the keys for a second, but he did his best not to show Don Lydecker how much his words had affected him.

Deck took his silence as an opening. "Her death devastated me at first, but then I saw that death came for the weak, and that weaknesses was something that could easily be corrected."

"Is that why you headed Manticore?" Logan still didn't look at Lydecker, feeling the older man trying to work in on his mind. "To try and reinvent your dead spouse but without the 'weaknesses' that killed her in the first place?"

"I loved my wife son," Deck defended with quiet hostility. "She was as special to me as Max is to you. But it was her weakness that got her murdered. She refused the simple humiliation of touch, something she would have easily learned to deal with and instead chose to be shot down on the street. If not for her own weakness she would still be alive and you and I would have no need for this conversation."

"We wouldn't be talking Colonel," Logan insisted, turning to collect the printed maps that were being fed out of his hp laser printer. "But it would be at the expense of your wife's rape. You turned her death into a martyr, a reason to bioengineer children and then spend the rest of the time torturing them into submission."

"If I never viewed my wife's death as a martyr Mr. Cale then your wife would never have existed." Lydecker's words were low, but intense, insistent.

Their conversation could have gone on for hours. Each man knew the power of his position and each was intelligent enough to vocalize it. But it was never to be because at that moment Max stepped into the computer room. Her eyes settled on her husband, briefly glancing at Lydecker out of the corner of her eye but not giving him any real attention. "You have the maps?"

Logan's answer to her was to hold out the three enlarged satellite photos taken of Seattle's first three Sectors. Max took them from his hands and he stood up at the exact same moment like they were bound together by an invisible cord. Neither of them looked to see if Lydecker was following them, but they could hear his footfalls echoing on the hardwood floor.

The dining room now resembled an improvised war room. The black lacquered table was taken up completely by a huge hand drawn map that only allowed one tiny corner of the table to peak out from the paper. All the matching chairs had been pushed back and Syl stood at the head of the table examining the map while Tinga looked on. Close by Zack was speaking in a quiet hushed tone about what was most likely issued commands judging from all the military vocabulary he was using.

They were all so in tuned to their work that none of them gave any special acknowledgement to the other three joining them. This evening wasn't a social call; they were soldiers discussing battle plans. Their focus on the objective couldn't be broken just because one of their sisters and her husband had just entered the room.

Only when Zack noticed that Max was carrying satellite surveillance photos did he break concentration from what he was doing. "Any cloud cover on the readouts?"

"None," Max said walking the short distance to the dining room table. She spread out the images on top of the map. "The evening was crystal for spying."

Zack leaned over and examined the images, comparing it to the map he had drawn up early that morning during a recon mission. Both maps were almost exactly alike because of Zack's photographic memory – a trait of all X5's. But the satellite images showed what his map couldn't – the location of every vehicle that had been traveling through the first three Sectors of Seattle during the time the readout was taken. Cars and other vehicles all appeared on the map as glowing red formations because of the heat that came from their engines. There were several hundred red dots all over the map, which was a normal traffic occurrence for a metropolitan city.

Most of the cars were all lined in even groupings to show the flow on the highways for average night traffic. But what Zack was looking for was an unusual amount of traffic converged on one area on any of the side roads that were normally supposed to be dead except to crack dealers who normally walked to their sites.

Zack looked over the maps very carefully and cursed under his breath when he could see nothing out of the ordinary. "The readouts are normal," he was incredibly pissed off. Recon had gotten him about a dozen locations, abandoned warehouses, factories, even condemned office complexes, all which could easily be used as a base of operations for a project on the DL. But being so late at night the streets were teeming with Sector Cops and for Zack to try to get a closer perimeter on the locations – even with his speed – would have sent the dozens of Sector Cops straight towards him.

"Maybe he cloaked the engines on his convey," Syl insisted, not liking what she was saying but it was defiantly a possibility. All car and truck engines emitted heat from their motors – heat that could easily be tracked by any infrared camera. But military technology had designed a way around the problem by inventing a clear patch like object that could be affixed to the motor. It was adequately named a Nighcloak. The Nightcloak was basically a giant cooling system of a silicon gel that was previously frozen to absolute zero, well contained inside a permeable, yet ultra durable plexplastic. It would immediately cool any release of heat or exhaust emitted from a vehicle, making the car virtually undetectable from any heat seeking tracking system.

"Cloaks only last 12 hours," Lydecker insisted. He ignored all the snarling looks he got from his kids and stepped over to them. "Something would've turned up on one of the readouts before a new seal could be applied."

"Well maybe they all ducked inside a covered garage to fuck each other while they waited," Syl snapped. She could sense Lydecker wanted to elaborate; he was practically salivating. "But you're the G.I. Jane, Deck, you tell me how to find these guys."

Deck let Syl's slam of calling him a pussy slide. "You can't always look for the obvious," he picked up the satellite image of Sector Three in his hand. A double laned road between a strip joint and a huge infrastructure of a building caught his eye, there was a line of large vehicles going down the road, but spaced out enough so that they were obviously traveling separately from each other, or at least it seemed. "An ordinary looking line of trucks next to a deactivated hydraulics plant is more cause for attention than a tank on top of the Space Needle." Deck looked at Syl with what could only be described as disappointment in his eyes.

But Syl ignored his gaze just has he had ignored her words. "Then that hydraulics plant has gotta be where White set up his operations. Unless it's a decoy."

"We don't have anything else to go on," Max told her. "If we assume he's playing us we risk waiting until they come out of the woodwork before we can do anything."

"But if it's a ploy baby sister and we do Battle Royal on the wrong locale then we're fucked even more." Zane spoke up from where he was sitting on the edge of the dining room table.

"If the location is intended to be wrong Zane he would've advertised it more," Max insisted.

"She's right," Jace agreed, "If he wanted us to know about that place he would've made it way too easy to find." She was speaking in a normal voice despite the sleeping child she had in her arms. Max had woken up two hours ago unable to sleep and only calmed down when Jace held him. He was a solid sleeper and hadn't woken up yet, but just to be sure Jace had him pressed up against her chest and had her hand to his exposed ear to keep him from hearing too much.

Everyone seemed in agreement with Jace's explanation, even Zack who still didn't trust her. "So now that we've got the hot spot we need a count down on when we do this shit."

"Tonight," Logan's voice made him look over to him. He may have been Zack's brother-in-law; but they still weren't best friends. "My data file already has been hacked into ten times today. They'll be wise to my firewalls if they're not already and if they move onto a pulse resonator detection they could have this address by morning."

"So we do this tonight then," Max agreed with him. "If we take them down there won't be anyone left to hack into your mainframe."

"Tonight then," Jondy repeated, letting that one word that held such powerful meaning sink in.

"We'll take down Manticore," Zack returned.

XXXXXXX

A deep rumbling thundered above a ceiling of solid rock. The place was below the hydraulics plant – a cavernous cave going down fifty feet into the earth. Huge stalactites hung like spearheads above. Some joined with the stalagmites below forming columns that made the cave resemble an earthy Roman Parthenon. The cavern was strangely light for being so deep in the ground. But this was because of the large lanterns that hung from ropes in the ceilings. The lanterns were tinted in red glass so that the pillar candles that burned within gave off a dark burgundy hue that made the whole cave appear well lit but ghastly.

In the center of the cavern the stalagmites had been cleared away, leaving the ground as smooth as linoleum tile. The ground there was not plain rock as the rest of the cave. It had been painted in a sweeping swirl pattern with interchanging colors of black and burgundy. Surrounding the inner circumference of the circle were three large tubs that had been sunk halfway into the floor of the cave. The tubs had been painted burgundy and lined on the outside with black velvet. Two of the tubs stood empty but the third had been filled to the top with water that looked like blood because of the color of the interior.

Steam rose off the water's surface and the strong smell of belladonna curled around the floor. Three robed figures stood beside the tub forming a triangle. One of them was a large hairless man with skin as green as the Priestess. He had his hand lunged towards the bath where his long spindly fingers were curled around the dark hair of a nude man submerged in the water.

The robed man stood with the two others and called out a chant that echoed repetitively throughout the tavern. Their words were all directed at the man in the water who kept his eyes closed and showed no fear to what was being done. Around his neck was an Ancient Egyptian Ankh of solid gold. Folded neatly at the base of the tub was the black Armani suit he had worn when he was talking to the Priestess.

Ames let his thoughts focus on the chants of the Elders surrounding him. His body remained completely motionless but his lips repeated the words they were saying:

"E'kisa 'Fas U'ksa T'ksa Mi's H'jaka My'ah C'ks, No's Ika'a!"

("My father before me, my mother that gave me life. Hear my cries, heed my command!")

"G'kia m'sk s'tek E'nosta, S'kns o's Asga, Le'ts l'anka flo's in'ksa my's tu'sk so'a nki's Tk'sa N'ups ("Give me strength, Ames, Son of Ages. Let life flow in my veins so that I may take life.")

"Le'ts t'a wo'sa ok'a mia Pr'dsuas b'a c'kisa an's ki's d'mksa t'sa Ank'aet'a!"

("Let the work of my predecessors be completed and what is cast this night know Eternal Life!")

The chanting grew louder, like the cries of Catholic Priests in an exorcism of demons. The head priest poured a vial of his extracted blood over Ames' head, letting it flow down over his face.

"Le's t'a b'jks o's Mig'Can'sa a'lsa p'sta m'a B'jks fo's tj'sa s'j'aka'ah"

("Let the blood of the Holy Man purify me from the spews of blood from those I slay.")

"An'cias E'st'mia p'skna t'a O'sa wo's d'sta t'hakna Oa'ka'ia ("Ancient Elders guide the One who will defend the Order")

After the last word had been uttered the Priest shoved Ames' head completely under the water, submerging it for twenty seconds. When Ames reemerged he stood up stark naked, the water dripping off his body. Each Priest placed took hold of an edge of a long black cloth and with simultaneous movements, wrapped it around Ames' lower body like a towel.

Ames climbed down from the bath and stood on the painted ground in bare feet. He bent down to pick up his suit, which the Elders had wrapped in a damask cloth to keep the water from dampening it. But a long green feminine hand handed the cloth bundle to him before he could reach it.

The Priestess stared into Ames' face, but not before roaming her eyes lower. She bore the hideous sterility of all Familiar Priestesses but she still harbored desires for flesh. And Ames was the one of the most beautifully sculptured creation of their race. Being half human made him far more graceful then even the noblest of Elders.

"The others are ready Ames," The Priestess watched as he accepted his clothes back. "They only await your command."

Ames unfolded flap of the cloth from waist to dry off his face. He removed the Ankh from his neck and handed it to the Priestess. "Tell them they don't have to wait any longer."

XXXXXXXXX

Don't throw pies at me! This cliffhanger will be resolved….when you ask? How you ask? Well kids, just scroll down the chapter list to "Choices 24-Part 2" and then, poof! Instant satisifaction…

Now onto part two!