10:00 pm

They're after Max. The answer to Sebastian's question is they're after Max. I have never had a thought scare me as much as that one did. We were out of Sebastian's and driving to the courthouse before Bling could even ask me what was going on. They aren't going after Bruno at all. They are after Max and she has no idea what she is up against.

When I ordered the security tape from the hotel, I was just following up on Max's call. I was doing my job, trying to be thorough. It seemed that another group was looking to take out Bruno and we just wanted to know what we were dealing with. I never expected what I saw on that tape, nor what Sebastian was about to tell me.

South African disposables, Sebastian called them, otherwise known as the Red Series. An implant rewires their nervous system, blocking out their pain receptors, leaving them hyperadrenalized, fearless and essentially invincible. One of them punched his fist through an elevator door as if it were tissue paper. Their major flaw is that their bodies cannot handle their turbocharged state and they burn out in approximately six months. They have been trying to correct the problem by retrofitting their DNA with American transgenic technology.

"Question is, what are they doing in Seattle?" Sebastian asked, having no clue as to why they were here.

The street outside the courthouse was a security nightmare. They weren't letting anyone into the building, not even journalists. I had no way of getting to Max, no way of knowing if she was okay. As Bling and I paced back and forth in front of the entrance, the situation seemed to be intensifying. Security was evacuating the building. Then, when Bruno came out of the courthouse parkade with a furtive look on his face and didn't even acknowledge me, I knew that I was right. Max was in deep trouble.

If I thought I had been focused or obsessed in the past, I was wrong. I didn't understand the meaning of the words. If I thought that wheelchairs and car doors and steering wheels were obstacles, I was wrong. If I thought I needed twenty minutes or even two minutes to get into the car, I was wrong. I was behind the wheel and driving in less than twenty seconds. I didn't even bother to load the chair in the car. That was the least of my worries. I knew that the probability of both Max and I getting out of that parkade alive was slim at best. I also knew that nothing short of a bullet in my own head was going to stop me from trying to help Max.

I have never functioned so instinctively or ferociously in my life. From the deepest part of my being, I knew what I had to do. No one was going to do to Max what Bruno had done to me. No one was going to touch her. All my pent up fury erupted at that moment. I had my gun out and was shooting before my brain even registered the circumstances. It was only after Max had dived into the car and we had pulled away that I realized that the only thing I had going for me was the element of surprise. If I had hesitated even a moment, Max would not have made it. Yet, even with my bullets inside them, the Reds were standing up and watching us race out of that parkade.

I could feel Max shaking in the rear seat, but that was no seizure she was experiencing. It was pure terror. I glanced in the mirror and she was rocking herself with her arms wrapped around her knees, trying to calm the shaking. She looked up for a moment and her protective shield had disappeared. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Then she closed her eyes and held on as I drove us home.

Bling called a few minutes later and I realized that I was shaking, too, as I fumbled to answer the phone and keep us on the road. I remember trying to focus on his voice, but barely registered what he was saying... lost chair... are we okay?...meet us in the parkade in five minutes. When I pulled into my parking stall, I was almost surprised to see Bling there. Why was he waiting and what was he doing with my chair? I couldn't believe how difficult it was to get out of the car. I didn't remember it being that hard when I got in. And why was Max leaning so heavily on Bling? Bling ushered us upstairs and escorted us into the living room. And then we just sat there in silence, completely stunned.

Eventually, Max regained her composure and began to describe what happened. Her cocky façade was back up, but underneath it, I knew what happened was terrifyingly real. There were only three Reds, but they were overpoweringly strong. They threw her with such force into a car that it shattered the windshield. The nasty wounds on Max's face and shoulder were proof enough of that. They even used tasers on her. No matter what she did, she couldn't keep them down. They were relentless. I shot two of them with the intent to kill, but they bounced right back up again. They remind me of a ridiculous toy from my childhood. Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down. The Reds are a twisted, deadly version of that toy. No matter what you do to them, they get back up and come back at you.

An hour later, I was patching Max's shoulder as we listened to the news reports of the none too premature demise of our friend, Bruno. Despite all her griping yesterday, about having to protect Bruno, Max is much more compassionate than I am. Bruno testified against Mayor Steckler so his daughter could point to the one good thing he did in his life. Then five minutes later, he sold Max to the Reds. A germ is always a germ. But that didn't faze Max. He showed a little consideration for his daughter, so she was almost ready to forgive him. I'm not. I don't give a shit about his petty atonement. It doesn't make up for a life of murder. It doesn't make up for what he did to me. I'm glad someone did me a favor and took him out. I'm glad he's dead.

Hate, anger, terror, that's all there seems to be room for in this kick or be kicked in the ass world. I hate what my life has become. I hate the fact that it has degenerated into this. I have been kicked too often lately. Having Bruno in my home yesterday was the harshest kick of all. Now, Max has had her ass kicked as well. I am sick of being kicked. I don't need it to keep me real and neither does Max. We need to do some kicking of our own. But now we have to face the biggest threat to Max's security that we have yet encountered. I saw the look in Max's eyes when she was so desperately trying to get away from the Reds. Max was terrified. "You don't have to tell me to be scared," She said. "I'm already there."

So am I Max.

So am I.