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A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank to nattylovesu, Dark angel fan!, X5416, Kay, Tina, Grace, and Marcus Sylenus for reviewing! I appreciate and pretty much bounce with happiness each time I get a review; they always make me write better and faster. :-)
Ex Multus Familia: Part 2
Chapter 2
"Seth, Krit, Mole, Anica and Jane," Logan said, reading off the list of Manticore soldiers that the government had requested for the first mission. He put the clipboard down on the desk and glanced over at Max. "That's all they want?"
Max nodded. "Yep. One X5 team leader, two DACs and two X-series that actually look like they belong in Iraq. It's actually a team that I would've chosen myself, if I had to."
It was early morning in T.C. and nothing disastrous had happened yet, so it was a good day in Max's books. She sat down on the edge of her desk and sipped at the coffee in her bright pink mug. One of the X8s, Rena, had found it and given it to her as a birthday present, even though Max didn't really have a birthday.
"Seth has to go," Logan said slowly. "Isn't Robin—"
"Completely and utterly pissed?" Max interrupted. She snorted into her mug. "That's an understatement."
Logan smirked. "Maybe if you had let me finish, I would've used something stronger, like ready to destroy the government."
"As long as she gets to use violent explosives." Max put her mug down on the table and turned toward Logan. "It's just so aggravating, you know. I mean, the government owns us, we get away from the government and then they go back to owning us again. It's enough to make a girl want to scream."
Logan sighed and walked around the desk before coming to a stop beside Max. "I know, but the alternative isn't that great either."
"No one wants to be looking down the barrel of the White House shotgun," Max said, rolling her eyes.
Logan snickered. "Not everyone is as willing as you are to go blow up government facilities, Max. Excluding Robin in her current state."
Max pretended to ignore him as she leaned over and picked up the clipboard. She fingered through the profiles of the team members that had been chosen before stopping on Anica's. She let her hand rest on the girl's picture. "Do you think I should let Anica go? She's only an X6."
"If you don't, she'll raise hell," Logan said, "Dalton's already been on a mission, and the rest of the X6s have been clawing the walls since then." He blinked and then flicked his eyes at Max. "No pun intended."
"Yeah, right," Max said, but there was a half-smile on her face. She looked down at Anica's picture again. The X6 seemed to be made for this mission; she had the Middle Eastern complexion, beautiful, sweet dark eyes, and an extensive knowledge of Middle Eastern culture and the Arabic language. She was a smart, rational teenager who did regular guard duty and was in charge of the upkeep on one of the floors of the X6s' main apartment building, affectionately named by them The Boondocks since it was on the outskirts of Terminal City.
"She'll be fine, she's a smart girl," Logan said. He gently pulled the clipboard away from Max and set it down on the table. "Just tell the others to keep an eye on her if you're worried about her."
"I will," Max said. She flashed him a smile. "By the way, want to see my new tats?"
"More?" Logan said incredulously, "Are you serious?"
"No, I'm kidding," Max said. She rolled her eyes as she reached down and started rolling up the leg of her dark jeans. Her fingers brushed across the black Minoan symbols that had appeared on her lower leg last night before she brought her leg up and braced her foot against the desk. "So, what do you make of it, Sherlock?"
"I don't know, Watson, I haven't looked at it yet," Logan said, making a face at Max before he leaned over to look at the new markings. Max pulled away instinctively as he got in the space that she considered too close, and Logan leaned back without saying anything. With any luck, this no-man's land between them would be gone soon enough.
With his hands encased in multiple layers of gloves, he ran his fingers down her leg. The tattoos were entirely new, just like the last batch that had appeared the week before. He was still deciphering those; it turned out that Minoan was a hard language to pick up, especially when he had about a hundred other things to worry about. He walked over and grabbed the digital camera from its drawer and quickly took a few shots of Max's leg.
"I just love being your model," Max said sarcastically as he leaned in for a closer shot.
Logan winked at her over the top of the camera. "You're just so photogenic, Max."
"Lucky me," she replied, not sounding very enthusiastic.
Logan had just finished taking his pictures when they both looked up at the sound of someone running down the hallway. Emma, a sweet X6 with a mop of curly brown hair, practically slid around the corner and into the office.
"Logan, Max!"
"What is it? Max asked. She had already straightened up and rolled her pant leg down, waiting only to hear the information Emma had before darting off to wherever the source of trouble was. She and Logan exchanged concerned looks; they'd just been discussing the other day how disturbingly quiet things had gotten ever since Terminal City had signed the contract with the government.
"Human attack at the South Gate! All but one of the government officials are down. They've got some serious weaponry."
"I'll call up the emergency list," Logan said, immediately sitting down to the computer. Max nodded and quickly exited the room.
"Emma, don't tell anyone else about this, ok? Logan will make sure the people that need to know are notified. We don't want the situation to get out of control."
"Got it," Emma said. Hopefully that would keep the X6s, who were all too ready for action at the moment, from finding out about the riot until it was too late. Max was pretty sure that Emma had been the only X6 scheduled for patrol at the South Gate at this time.
Max hurried outside and couldn't suppress the involuntary smile that leapt to her face at the sight of her familiar beloved motorcycle. It had faithfully seen her through a lot, and this would be yet another battle. She mentally went through her head of the list of people Logan would likely call up. Anyone could be useful in this kind of situation, but X5s and Psy-ops on the emergency list would be preferable.
Transhumans would only upset the crowd further; they needed unobtrusive people. Psy-ops with emotional capabilities always worked well with crowd control too; they had one or two empaths that they could call to duty.
Max grimaced as she swung into view of the South Gate. She parked her motorcycle by a building and quickly assessed the situation in front of her. The patrol had pulled in the surviving government official to the Terminal City side, and now the team, minus Emma, was guarding the gate. The riot hadn't gotten over their fear enough yet to attack the gate, but it didn't look like it would be long before they got up their courage. Their numbers were quickly growing, and their expressions becoming angrier. Plus, Max could see alcohol being quickly passed around the crowd. That always gave Ordinaries more courage than they really had.
"Max." An X5 named Twizzler looked relieved to see her. "The situation's been like this for about half an hour according to the government guard, but it's rapidly…"
"Becoming more unstable," Max finished for him. She gave the remaining government guardsman an irritated glare. The idiots had of course assumed that they could handle this on their own. If the patrol had known about the unrest sooner they could have gotten to the other site of the gate, blended in, calmed the crowd…
"Well, I'd say it's already unstable," Twizzler said, shaking his head as they walked over to the guard. "The guard says that one of the others fired at a man who was physically attacking them; that was what incited the group enough to actually go after the guards."
Max stopped in front of the guard who had the grace to look slightly sheepish.
"Easily spooked?" Max demanded.
"We were told to use our firearms if the crowd got out of control. Physically attacking us is a perfectly legitimate reason for defending ourselves," the guard said, squaring his shoulders.
"Yeah, right, because using guns on unarmed civilians is totally acceptable in your military books," Max said, rolling her eyes. Rather than being taught about the laws governing them, it seemed more like these government guys were taught how to use the laws to cover any action they took. It was kind of annoying at times.
"We estimated what action would be necessary…"
"And made the situation worse." Max shook her head and turned away from him, pointedly ignoring him.
"What happened to the communication lines?" Max asked. "Why did Emma have to come deliver the message?"
Twizzler grimaced. "We lost our set while rescuing the guard. At that point it was easiest to send Emma; it takes her less than a minute to run to Headquarters from here if she's blurring."
Max nodded, making a mental note to see that backup cell phones were added to patrol supplies. Maybe stable communication sets along the patrol routes. Just then a woman turned the corner and hurried toward Max, her blonde hair tangled and messy from her sprint through the streets of Terminal City.
"Logan said you needed an Empath?" she asked breathlessly. Logan, wonderful Logan. He always knew exactly what to do and who to call first.
"See if you can calm this crowd," she said, nodding at the gate. "Twizzler, I'm leaving you in charge while I take the rest of your patrol unit across. Update anyone else who comes on the situation." She glanced at the stiff-looking guard. "And see that he doesn't cause any more trouble."
Twizzler grinned at her. "Got it." Max sighed as she went to collect the others. Hopefully the empathy would prove to be enough and Max and her team wouldn't be forced to take any drastic action.
As she led the other patrol members through the closest sewer entrance, Max listened to their murmurings in the dark. They, too, hated these outbursts against the transgenics. Ordinaries' hatred just didn't make sense, especially when the citizens of Terminal City were careful to keep out of their way. Perhaps isolation just wasn't the answer. If they were ever going to get out from the government, they would have to figure out a way to get humans to accept them at some point or another.
Max glanced up as they neared the manhole that was around the corner from the gathering mob. The noise was muted, but she could still hear the shouting and occasional sound of something breaking as the Ordinaries lost control of themselves and had to lash out.
The situation outside of the gates was hitting a boiling point when Max and the patrol crept out of the sewer tunnel. When the whole team was out of the tunnel, Max motioned for them to follow her. With a near-silent step, the transgenics made their way to the corner that led to the place where the Ordinaries had mobbed together. Behind her, she heard the transgenics clicking the safeties off their guns. Max whipped around.
"Safeties on," she snapped, "No casualties."
"If we don't use firepower, they'll just try and kill us," piped up one of the patrol, an X3 named Kevlar. He had a grayish tint to his tough skin, but that was his only visible oddity. He waved his gun in the air. "If an Ordinary tries to take out me and mine, I'm taking them out first."
"No guns, soldier," Max said, "We're better than that. We can handle this without shooting anyone."
There was a lot of grumbling as the soldiers put their safeties back into place. Most of them kept their guns out, however, and Max knew that if it came down to a firefight, the transgenics weren't going to follow her orders. In a battle of Us against Them, Them was going down.
Suddenly the ground shook violently, and sound boomed around them, nearly busting their eardrums. Max grabbed the wall in an effort to stay standing as pebbles bounced beside her feet. An explosion. Someone had thrown a bomb.
Max immediately signaled her small team to move out, positioning herself at the point. They hurried into the street and were nearly mowed down by a horde of screaming, terrified Ordinaries running away from the explosion sight. For a moment, Max's heart froze at the thought that someone in Terminal City had thrown the bomb. But no, at the hole in the chain link wall, there was a battle going on, a struggle between the transgenics who had responded to Logan's call and the stubborn Ordinaries who had launched the bomb.
Max and the patrol shouldered past the Ordinaries who were too afraid to retaliate against the transgenics jostling past them. Shots were fired, and transgenics inside the gates ducked down behind the strategically placed metal guards and concrete barriers. The Ordinaries, all dressed in bulletproof vests, black masks and dark trench coats, pressed in through the hole during the moment where the transgenics were taking cover. They made a run for the barriers, guns pulled and firing in automatic response.
Three shots rang out in rapid succession, and three Ordinaries fell down, shouting out and clutching at wounds in nonlethal places. Max glanced up and saw Robin's blond head peeking over a rooftop, a sniper rifle backed against her shoulder. The girl who had been trained to be a bodyguard doubled as a sniper and almost always took disabling instead of assassin shots; it was a useful skill in violent crowd control. The Ordinaries who were left standing skittered to a stop, and one of them took a shot at the rooftop where Robin was. Her reply was a bullet through that person's gun hand.
While the patrol closed in from behind, the Ordinaries were trapped from in front by the wall of transgenics that had guns trained on them. Safety in number was a transgenic code. The combatant Ordinaries circled around each other and closed in together, becoming a tiny, protective clump.
Right on time, Alec appeared from behind one of the concrete barriers, strolling out as if he had just been passing through. He twirled one of his hand guns from his index finger and then brought it back to rest in his hand. Nonchalantly, he approached the nervous cluster of leftover Ordinaries.
"Hey, guys, having a good day?" Alec gave them that winning smile, but none of their guns lowered. "I bet not, seeing how you were so pissed you had to blow a hole in our wall. That puts us in a bad mood, so we're not having a good day here."
Max looked up at Robin again, making sure she was covering the cocky negotiator. Robin nodded and aimed her rifle at the Ordinaries.
Alec sighed heavily and waved his gun at the wounded Ordinaries on the ground. "They're not having a good day either. In fact, they're having an oh-shit-my-life-sucks day." He looked up at the other Ordinaries and smiled again. "And if you don't want to be like them, if you want to continue having a sucky day instead of an oh-shit day, I suggest you drop your guns. Now."
Instead of dropping their guns, one of the Ordinaries leveled a gun and took a shot at Alec. "Die, tranny!" the person shrieked in a distinctively female voice.
Even as the bullet grazed his forearm, Alec blurred up to the human and snatched the gun away from her, throwing her to the ground at the same time. Alec ejected the cartridge from the gun and then threw the two pieces away. At the same time, Robin took a shot. Blood spurted from a bullet wound on the woman's thigh as she lay on the ground, moaning and writhing.
Alec stepped over her and the other Ordinaries dropped their weapons and threw up their hands as the rest of the transgenics appeared from behind the buildings and barricades. "Good choice."
Sighing with relief, Max hurried forward, the patrol at her heels as she took control of the situation. Someone was going to answer for this, someone in a suit, and he wasn't going to like it.
----------------------------
Headquarters was crowded tonight to the point where transgenics were spilling out into the hallways and corridors. In the center of the mess on the ground floor was the government's official liaison assigned to the new division of Transgenic Affairs: Agent Kenton. He was an Asian American man of average height, dressed in black dress pants and a white shirt that had once been crisp. His jacket had been discarded earlier in the evening and had quickly been lifted by one of the enterprising X8s.
"I thought you guys were supposed to be protecting us!"
"We can protect ourselves better than you can!"
"We're dying, and you're not doing anything about it!"
On the metal catwalk above the ground floor, Alec let out a low whistle. He and Sidda had come in as soon as Gray down at the infirmary had finished patching him up after the situation had been contained. His right forearm had a nice white bandage on it to cover the stitched-up skin.
"This is getting as ugly as Mole," he muttered, his words brushing across Sidda's dark blond hair. He was standing behind her, her back pressed against his chest and his arms braced on the metal railing on either side of her. This way, he kept track of her and made sure she wasn't battered in the enraged crowd of transgenics. Being small had its disadvantages.
Sidda rested her hands over his. She turned her head to the side to let him see her smirk. "Now, let's not exaggerate."
From an X5 on the ground: "Go to Hell, you government bastard!"
"Okay, now that wasn't very nice," Sidda said, leaning against Alec's uninjured arm.
"I thought it was sweet. A compliment on his outstanding handling of the situation."
"Alec…"
The accusations kept coming from everywhere, and all of them were directed at Agent Kenton. He stood solidly under the assault, his shoulders squared, his head unbowed. Max stood nearby, her arms crossed, her lips pressed in a tight line as she glared at the government agent.
When things calmed down to a murmur of discontent, Agent Kenton looked around at the transgenics. "This is an unfortunate incident that should never have happened."
"Damned right," Mole exclaimed. He stepped up to Agent Kenton, forcing the government to tilt his head back if he wanted to look Mole in the face. "You agency asses are all the same. All talk. One more of us dies, and I'm coming after you."
"Mole," Max admonished. She looked around the room before locking her eyes with Agent Kenton. "Of course, he's not entirely wrong. What're your people doing, Kenton?"
Kenton's lips compressed as if he was fighting off an urge to be as angry as the transgenics that faced him. But he was a smart man, and knew better than to antagonize anyone any further.
"First, let me assure you that under our watch there has yet to be a transgenic death. Two of our men were taken out protecting you, but all of your men made it safely back inside."
"No thanks to you," Alec muttered from above.
Sidda elbowed him. "He's just doing his job," she admonished Alec.
Alec only frowned as Agent Kenton continued to speak. He hadn't really liked the idea of signing themselves over to the government from the beginning, and Seth's assignment and now this just seemed to prove how bad an idea it had been.
Agent Kenton looked around, trying to gauge what his audience needed to hear. "We're human, yes," he said, "We're at a disadvantage there. But we're official. We give you credibility to the people. There will be outbursts; controversial subjects always cause them. But there will be a lot less attacks, and the news media won't be able to run away with it like before. The attack that came today had plenty of time to build-up and gave us plenty of time to prepare. My troops were remiss in calling for back-ups, but they won't be next time. And the media won't turn this into a savage attempted massacre of civilians. Instead, it will be the government and the transgenics working to defend themselves from a drunken mob looking for an available scapegoat target."
"You people are certainly good at making things look the way you want them to the public, I'll give you credit for that," Max said dryly. Her arms were still crossed, and she smirked as a few of the transgenics laughed at this poke at the government.
"You knew what we were good for when you brought us on board," Agent Kenton said softly. "And though we aren't always successful as gate guards, which you obviously didn't trust us to be anyway, do remember the larger protection that you wanted. That was the reason you sat down with us at the agreement table in the first place."
The room was silent now as they all contemplated his statement. None of them were stupid, and they knew exactly what Agent Kenton was talking about. At the moment, transgenics hadn't developed a nuclear capability to keep the US government in check. Yet.
"So what, we just sit back and let them attack us so that you can turn it into a media opportunity?" someone called out. Max was pretty sure it had been Jaz. Agent Kenton had pinpointed the direction of her voice and looked straight at her.
"You could, yes, or you could go into public relations offensive."
There were a few derisive laughs, and Logan rolled his eyes and shoved his way out of the crowd to where Agent Kenton could see him. "What do you think we've been doing since we established Terminal City?"
Agent Kenton gave Logan an icy smile. "Obviously, none of you have been well-trained in diplomatic or public relations. Even as you prove to the community that you're doing good, you're scaring them with your physical capabilities. You need to tone it down, show them you're normal people, people that don't always have a violent purpose."
"Kenton mean like painting?" Joshua asked curiously. Agent Kenton's brows wrinkled for a moment as he tried to understand what Joshua was saying, then his face cleared.
"Yes, like painting. Community service projects, support for the arts, tree planting, theater productions, kids going to school and getting a normal education… that sort of thing. You need to show the public that you can be incorporated into normal society, and better, Seattle."
There was a murmur of voices now as everyone discussed Agent Kenton's proposed idea. Small heated arguments broke out among groups, and Max looked grimly at Agent Kenton. He was certainly good at his job; he'd managed to turn a question about what his people were doing into a statement about what the transgenics could be doing.
"Very nice work, Agent Kenton," Max said, hiding any hint of the dry sarcasm she meant.
"Thank you, Max." Agent Kenton inclined his head and gave her a small smile, choosing to take her compliment at face value. Max sighed; she didn't feel like fighting this out any further at the moment. She raised her hands for silence and waited until the conversations died away to a scattered murmuring.
"We'll meet in the morning to discuss this again," Max said, glancing at Agent Kenton to let him know that he was expected to be there. "For now, let's get some sleep, people."
Conversation immediately rose up again, some protesting the close of the meeting. Max didn't care; she moved away so that the others could barrage Agent Kenton with questions. In the meantime, she made her escape out the side door where she knew Logan would be waiting.
Logan gave her one of his sardonic smiles as she quickly closed the door and leaned against it, breathing a sigh of relief.
"I hate doing this," she said.
Logan shrugged. "Someone had to. And unfortunately, you were at the right place at the right time." They moved away from the building, heading toward the apartment they carefully shared.
"You told me leaders are supposed to be elected," Max said.
"Not all the time," Logan quickly interrupted. "Some of our greatest…" he paused to consider, than chuckled, "well, and most terrible leaders have arisen out of necessity. When the crowd demands a leader, they find someone." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Just so you know, the best ones usually do step down eventually."
Max laughed. "Believe me, I have no plans to become your benevolent dictator. I'm ready to be replaced as soon as we're ready to hold elections."
"Hmm, benevolent? Now, that wasn't exactly the word I was thinking of…"
"Ok, wise guy," Max said. "You don't hush, and I'll stop my weekly foray into the wine cellars of that French restaurant you love so much."
"I give, I give," Logan said, holding up his hands. "Anything but the wine."
"Thought so," Max said with a self-satisfied smirk. She knew him too well. She could almost wish that dealing with the problems of Terminal City was as easy as her relationship with Logan, but that would be a messed-up wish, considering how complicated and frustrating their relationship could be. Maybe Max should just give up on the idea of a nice, normal, uncomplicated life; perhaps that was just a childish dream.
"Max?"
"Yes?" Max asked, looking at Logan.
"I can tell you're getting moody on me. Don't, ok? It's a hassle to get you out of." His eyes twinkled as he looked at her. "Go work on Robin's wedding or something if that will make you feel better."
Max smiled. No need to remind Logan that she might not be in charge of planning the wedding much longer with Seth's deployment; she still had another night to fill the book in with her ideas at least.
"I might just do that," Max replied.