By: Baloo
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: Dark Angel and its characters belong to Cameron, Eglee, and Fox.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: (AU) He was sent to capture and bring in the rogue, 452, but unforeseen complications changed everything. Feline DNA... pheromones... residual feelings? What’s a genetically engineered supersoldier to do? And what are two of them to do, together?
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Money. Cold, hard cash.
Something 494 – Alec – needed a lot of, and something he had far too little of at the moment.
It took a lot of money to set up a new identity, secure sector passes, and attain transportation. Well, he could have managed on a tighter budget, one that was currently within his grasp, but when he left Seattle, he wanted to be sure there would be no accompanying trail. He had to simply disappear. He was no prepubescent escapee on the ‘outside’ for the first time, living by wits and superior genes alone; he had plenty of training on his side. If, in three weeks, he could attain what no one else at Manticore had managed in ten years – track down one of the ’09 escapees – then surely he could put those same techniques to use covering his own traces.
All it took was resources. Rather expensive resources. And there was one way he knew how to get a lot of cash, fast. One way that perfectly complemented his training.
But where was he going to find something to… appropriate, to fund his escape – something of enough value, even on the black market, something easy to fence, something guarded with only a reasonable, not excessive, amount of security? It wasn’t like the existence of such a something was just going to be announced via a message falling from the sky…
His eyes grazed idly over a folded-up copy of the day’s newspaper that rested on the bed in the little motel room.
“Hello, what’s this?”
He read aloud the headline, “ ‘Seattle Museum gets new addition to Greek Classical Tradition Jewelry collection’… They have a whole collection of Greek classical tradition jewelry?” Shrugging, he continued to skim the article, “Fourth century BC… rare treasure… blah, blah, blah… Hmm, sounds – priceless.”
Okay, maybe not from the sky…
A slow grin turned up the corners of his lips, all his troubles forgotten in the moment as his brain immediately set to planning, devising, and scheming.
Hell, this might even be fun.
Between acquiring his target, setting up a fence, planning the job and gathering the necessary tools, almost two days had passed since that morning he’d made his fated decision. That meant almost four days since he’d last reported in. Long enough so his superiors would know something had gone amiss, and send reinforcements in after him. Of course, they had no way of knowing whether something had come up in the mission to incapacitate him, or he’d simply deserted the cause itself. But knowing Manticore, they tended to err on the side of caution.
Still, they had to find him first, with only the knowledge that both he and his target were somewhere in Seattle, or had been in the recent past. By that time, with the job completed and the necessary cash secured, the Seattle skyline should be just an image in his rearview mirror.
He couldn’t say the same for her.
Stupid – she’d chosen to stay, defying all logic and strategy, everything she should have learned from her training during the decade she’d spent at Manticore. After all the trouble her little unit had gone to with the escape, and all the trouble they’d caused, he figured unexpected relocation would have been a small and affordable price to pay to secure the freedom when it had just been jeopardized.
And what the hell was so great about Seattle anyway? Like she couldn’t find the same things she had here in any one of dozens of other broken cities across America. A directionless, underpaying job, with directionless, underpaid friends… he hadn’t seen anything worth clinging to at the risk of losing her life.
Anyway, it wasn’t his concern. She wasn’t his concern – not anymore. But it might soothe Manticore for its loss, having one missing soldier replaced by another. At least that good would come out of all this.
He hit the building at eleven, an hour before the next group of guards came on for the graveyard shift. The outer security was a breeze – the stuff he’d prepared for at Manticore made this system look like a combination lock on a school kid’s locker.
Once he was inside, he ducked inside a closet located close to his target, and waited. The afternoon guards would finish with a final sweep of the building, heading back to the desk two minutes before midnight to sign off, and the next shift would come in at that point. But it would take them at least three minutes to make it up to the second floor, where the necklace was located.
That left him five minutes to get from the closet, to the necklace, lift it from the display without setting off the sensors, and then back outside, all without getting noticed.
Simple. Nothing even worth breaking a sweat over. He leaned back against the wall and waited.
11:58.
Alec stepped out of the closet. He glanced in both directions down the hallway just to double check, but his enhanced hearing told him the way was clear. Stepping around the last bend so the prize was within sight, he eyed the remainder of the security system he would have to beat. No motion detectors in the floor – not possible, or the guards could not have managed their rounds – but the glass casing under which the necklace was kept came equipped with sensors. Now that would be the only part that would require any true effort.
Sliding stealthily across the floor, his dark clothing blending him, a shadow in the darkness, his swift journey came to a sudden halt as he collided with a solid form he was positive was not there but a moment earlier.
What the fuck?
“What the fuck?!” someone echoed his sentiment.
Oh, no, no, nonono…
He recognized the voice immediately, and if he hadn’t already seen as much shit as he had during his life, he might have wallowed in disbelief, thinking that fate could not be so cruel, the powers that be, so sadistic. But he knew better. Cruel and sadistic, they were.
Turning his head and peering down, his gaze met with a russet-colored one.
“Max,” he grinned, as if this horrific turn of events was somehow pleasing to him, not letting on his true exasperation.
“No way,” she said expressionlessly, and her eyes turned heavenward, as if pleading with some higher force. “This cannot be happening.” Then her gaze suddenly sharpened and veered in his direction, narrowing accusingly. “What are you doing here? Did you do this on purpose? Are you following me? Aren’t you supposed to be out of Seattle by now?”
Rolling his eyes, he replied to her barrage of questions, “As much as it may pain you to hear this, the universe does not revolve around you, 452” – he purposely used her designation, knowing it would irk her – “And I am on my way out of Seattle, but I need a bit of getaway cash first… hence,” he said, giving a meaningful look in the direction of the display holding the valuable piece of jewelry, “my presence here.”
Max followed his glance before turning back to him. “Oh no, don’t even think about it.”
Alec raised an eyebrow. “Why – because stealing is ‘wrong’?”
“No, because this one’s mine.” She placed a hand on her hip, and for the first time he glanced down, taking in the black cat suit that hugged every curve, left nothing but the perfect caramel flesh hidden. Unwittingly, he found himself recalling the memory of two nights prior. A memory he had forced himself to put out of his mind since then, because he could afford no distractions, nothing that might jeopardize his new mission.
He was quiet, no snappy comeback, no response to her bold declaration. Max frowned. What was he up to? Was he planning some sort of maneuver, some plan to get her out of the way so he could finish this gig without her and take off with the necklace? She took in his stance, but found it relatively relaxed, definitely not prepared for any physical confrontation. Allowing herself the opportunity to study his face, she followed his gaze until they were both staring at…
“Hey,” she cried indignantly, slapping him across the shoulder. “Eyes up top!”
Flinching slightly at the blow, he raised his head slowly, without speaking, his eyes moving upward and resting…
“Higher,” she hissed.
That seemed to finally draw him from his – study – and he met her inflamed gaze with an unrepentant grin. “Just admiring the view, Maxie.”
The fury in her expression ebbed slightly, and she blinked rapidly, confusion and… something else, flickering through. Then that too disappeared, before he had a chance to examine it any further.
“Well, I’m not a fucking national park,” she snapped. “If you really want a view to admire, why don’t you go wait for the sunrise?”
He glanced at his watch, realizing that his window of opportunity was quickly closing. “As lovely as that sounds – like I said, I have to acquire some major cash, and quick. And if you don’t mind,” he said, brushing past her, “you’ve wasted enough of my time already.”
“Hey,” she moved in front of him. “And I told you, this necklace is mine.” Her hands were balled into fists, taught arms held at her sides, and he knew she was willing to fight him for this.
Which was stupid, because it would get neither of them anywhere.
Taking a step closer so he was peering down into her large brown eyes, he hissed, “Well, if we don’t get it – and ourselves – out of here in the next three minutes, it will remain the property of this lovely establishment.”
Max stared up into the tempest of his gaze, and with something akin to nervousness, she suddenly recalled how easily he had reversed their positions back at her apartment that morning. She had held the gun, she had had the element of surprise on her side, catching him as he slept. And still, it was he who had walked away the victor – if one could really be named.
After a few long seconds, she reluctantly nodded. “Alright,” she replied. “But I’m not backing off. This deal is going down fifty-fifty.”
Inwardly, Alec suppressed a groan. In mere minutes – two and a half, to be exact – he had just lost half of his escape fund.
Well, half was still better than none, which is exactly what he’d have if they stood around debating this any longer.
“Fine,” he answered with a curt movement of his head.
“Fine.” She swung around and headed toward the display, and his eyes followed the subtle sway of her hips until he realized what he was doing and a mental slap brought some sense back into him.
You’re a soldier, he reminded himself. A soldier with discipline. Focus on the mission. Not on her ass.