6 Months Ago
X5-452, the Manticore soldier known as "Max," stood at ease in Director Lydecker's office, awaiting further information.
"Do you know why I've asked to see you, soldier?"
"No, sir," Max answered.
She did have an inkling though. She'd been on a couple of serious solos since her sixteenth year – missions in which the Director requested a special meeting with her. Eight missions over four years ranging from deep cover assassination to a special deep-cover reconnaissance.
Director Lydecker furrowed his brow. Once upon a time, he had been very blonde – she'd seen the pictures. Now, his white and gray eyebrows matched the rest of his hair, but his icy blue eyes pierced her sharply like they always had. "You've been selected for a deep-cover recon mission to culminate in the elimination of the target."
Max nodded, waiting for more information, as was customary for standard protocol.
"The target is an upper level cyber terrorist masquerading as a WASPy vigilante. His name is Logan Cale and he poses a threat to this institution. Our sources indicate he's accumulating information on us, presumably to wage an attack.
"He has his fingers in various pies, including the genetics game, and we suspect he's planning something huge. We need your special set of skills."
A knock came at the door.
"Enter," Lydecker said.
X5-599, the blonde-haired, square-jawed and broad-shouldered unit leader walked in and stood at attention next to Max, who had also snapped to attention.
Lydecker saluted him back. "At ease."
Both soldiers fell into relaxed positions.
"Max, Zack will be your handler for this mission."
Zack turned to face Max. "Your results speak for themselves, Max. Are you ready to do whatever it takes?"
"Yes, sir."
Operations put together quite the cover ID for Max. She was basically who she already was: an intelligent Manticore soldier, genetically-engineered human-hybrid, just with some embellishments. Now she was a fugitive on the run from the same institution that had trained her, molded her, raised her.
She would have and inherent mistrust of authority, a difficulty with father figures, a sharp, sarcastic wit to prove a coping mechanism. And she was to use sex, when applicable, as one of her means of deception. Cale needed someone idealistic who could get involved in his missions, and she would have to find a way to stall his plans until Manticore decided how to handle him.
Zack and Lydecker briefed Max on everything Cale already knew about Manticore, and informed her what they'd purposely leaked about her.
Part of her cover ID would be to work as a Jam Pony bike messenger. She'd be working under a friendly called "Normal," a sort of nerdy republican patriot with – as Max would soon discover – low patience.
"Your mission is to get close to Logan Cale. Infiltrate and sabotage his network, and when the time comes, eliminate him," Zack instructed. He looked her in the eyes. "Do you understand your mission?"
"Yes, sir."
Now
Max heard the toilet flush and hurriedly turned onto her back, pulling her underwear and pants up. She buttoned them, stood up, and reclasped her bra while the faucet ran in the bathroom. She crossed the room, moving toward the window, grabbed her shirt and pulled it on just as the bathroom door opened to reveal a sleepy Logan, wearing just an undershirt and a pair of boxer briefs.
His demeanor had changed from the sexually-aggressive and somewhat violent behavior to his normal dull, more passive personality. His eyes attempted a kindness she knew he convinced himself would be apology enough for what had just happened, but she would not accept it today.
She pulled her hair through the neck hole and bent to adjust her pant legs.
Logan found his way to the bed and slipped under the covers, watching her back move under the material of her shirt as she straightened her pant legs. "Won't you stay?" he asked hesitantly.
"'Can't. Gotta bounce. Kendra needs me." She stood up and faced him, her somewhat cold expression fixing him. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"'Kay," he said, unaware of whether or not she accepted his not-quite-an-apology. "Goodnight."
Max walked briskly out of his bedroom, letting the door swing almost shut. She mentally prayed she'd distracted him long enough for the disc in her jacket pocket to do its job. She passed through his office and snatched her jacket from the monitors, slipping it on in a hurry to get the fuck out of his penthouse.
She made it to the Space Needle in record time and hauled ass up the stairs to meet a very impatient-looking Zack.
"Did you get it?" he barked as her foot hit the smooth metal of the 'ground.'
She gritted her teeth, glaring at him. "Do you know what I had to go through tonight? That man is such a terrible fucking lay! Sex with him is like not winning the lottery. You invest all this money, and time and effort, and your number is never called."
Zack pursed his lips. "Yeah, but did you get it?" he repeated emotionlessly. His utter detachment was unnerving to her.
Stuffing her hand in her pocket, Max fingered the disc and pulled it out. "Yeah, I got it," she said caustically, pushing the disc into Zack's palm.
He looked down triumphantly at the small disc. "Good." He tapped it against his other hand. "This'll give the director the intel we need to make the right countermeasure."
"Perfect," she sassed back.
"What's the next mission?"
Max stared over the city, distantly hoping the end of this assignment was seriously fucking nigh. "Supposed to grab this hard drive from EQ8 Technologies tomorrow night."
"Perfect," he echoed, but without her same sentiment. "I'll shadow you, copy it, and then you can give it to Cale." Zack pocketed the disc and looked out in the same direction as Max.
Max nodded.