By: Baloo
Chapter 6
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?
______________________________________
If there was one thing about Colonel Lydecker that even his enemies had to begrudgingly acknowledge, it was the fact that he was an exceptionally patient man. The last nine years of his life had been devoted to one singular goal: to track down and recapture the dozen individuals who had escaped from his unit that fateful night in the winter of '09. Though he had yet to meet one face-to-face after all this time, he knew he was close… They'd slip up eventually, and when they did, he'd be there to catch them.
Hence, when he'd had arrived at Seattle the day before, only recently briefed on his current mission, he was both outraged and baffled by his superiors' idiocy.
Bringing in the '09 escapees was his job, and his alone. They were his kids, his unit to command. His failure.
Which explained his anger and disbelief when he was told that without his knowledge, someone other than himself had been sent out after 452 - his 452 - to her last known location, Seattle. Add fuel to the fire by then revealing that this other individual was an X5, one from another unit, and he had then gone MIA as well. Whether killed, captured, or AWOL… they didn't know.
And Director Renfro, that sadistic, manipulative bitch, for some reason still unknown to him, had chosen 494, a clone of one of the '09 escapees- the existence of whom Deck had been completely unaware - for the mission. With any number of capable operatives available at hand, he doubted it was just coincidental; Renfro never operated by coincidences.
Nearly two days into their search, Lydecker and his team, dressed in civilian attire for an attempt at inconspicuousness, were progressing through the dark interior of yet another low-class club, not unlike the dozen other locales they had already scoured. Clubs, bars, motels… anywhere 494 was likely to have frequented during his surveillance of his target. And so far, nothing. Almost an hour at this location alone, he had all but given up on finding anything here. If 494 had passed though the Crash, he appeared to have done so unnoticed. Which, ironically, was just how he'd been trained to work. Now, if only he'd stuck to his training on all aspects…
After trying his luck with the bartender, who merely shook his head unhelpfully, Deck turned to the man seated on a barstool beside him.
"Excuse me, sir," he began, pulling up the picture clutched in his hand. "You wouldn't by any chance have seen this man over the past couple of days? Maybe here, in this club?"
The stranger eyed the picture of 494 appreciatively, giving a low whistle. "Can't say's I've been blessed yet. But honey, if you do find him, be sure to let me know."
That was about as helpful as any of the responses over the past day. For the first time in his career, Deck began to begrudge just how attractive Manticore had made its soldiers. It would certainly have saved him a great deal of time in his search.
With a slight exhalation of breath, he continued back to the tables, arriving at one occupied by a young black woman and a blond, neither of whom seemed particularly pleased at the interruption. The dark-skinned woman eyed the two men standing not far behind Deck, both of whom were doing a remarkably terrible job of blending in. Their constant surveillance of their surroundings was almost obvious, and there was no way they could be mistaken for the usual club patrons, regardless of the fact they were dressed similar to everyone around them. But they were military men experienced in using weapons and strategy in carrying out their missions… and if, by some turn of luck, he did run into his missing transgenic tonight, they were exactly the sort of men he would need.
"Can we help you wit somethin'?" the dark haired woman inquired, with one raised eyebrow and just enough attitude to make the words sound uninviting.
Not entirely unused to this type of behavior after the past few days' search, Deck replied smoothly, "Yes, as a matter of fact, you might be able to." He pulled up the picture he'd been holding at his side. "I was wondering if either of you ladies had seen this man around during the past few days?"
The blonde sighed and rolled her eyes. "Why? What's he done?"
Hearing the words as they fell from her mouth, Cindy could have kicked her friend for her amazing display of density. In fact, she did. Kendra let out a stifled gasp of surprise and pain, but managed to avert any further stupidity by not calling her companion on the act in front of the stranger.
OC didn't know who this "man in black" was, but as far as she was concerned, a dude with a couple of personal bodyguards scouring the club scene with a picture of Max's latest hot boy, not three days after they'd hooked up - and unhooked, but that was more an issue for an overdue heart-to-heart with her girl, than a fact of relevance for the situation at hand - did not add up to good things. Unfortunately though, it was too late in the game for simple denial.
"So you do know him?" the stranger inquired, suddenly much more alert than earlier.
Staring into the dark eyes that seemed to bore right down to her very soul, Kendra suppressed a shudder. She was getting some major freaky vibes from this guy, and suddenly wished that she too were in possession of the Original Cindy brand of logic, which would undoubtedly have told her to keep her mouth shut from the very beginning. Kendra tried to keep from squirming in her seat, as that would have screamed guilt, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was guilty of.
"Um…" she looked toward OC, who appeared to be attempting to convey some sort of telepathic message, forgetting that neither of them of was… well, telepathic. "He was around here a few days ago," she said finally. "But left pretty quick, I think." The man was absolutely unreadable and she had no idea whether or not he was buying her answer. An idea hit her and she shrugged, tossing her blonde hair emphatically. "Actually, the only reason I even recognized him is cuz I remember thinking 'what a great ass'." She tossed in a brilliant smile at the end, just for effect.
Across the table, OC pursed her lips to keep from grinning. Kendra's act seemed to do the trick, because suddenly the man leaned back, almost exuding disappointment, and the previously sharp look of interest in his eyes dulling immediately. Apparently, whatever he'd thought he'd found, he no longer thought so.
~*~
Max had just taken a few steps out of the ladies' room of the Crash, when she was waylaid by a very drunk, and suddenly rather affectionate, Sketchy.
"Hey Max, buddy," he slurred, stumbling into her, only the strong arms with which she caught him keeping him from an up and close meeting with the floor.
"Sketchy."
He slung an arm around her shoulders, beckoning her closer as he dipped his own head for privacy in their conversation. Max obliged him, feeling rather indulgent in her current mood. Sixteen thousand in cash tends to leave a girl feeling pretty happy… even if most of it is going to end up paying off her PI. What the hell Vogelsang was doing to burn through that much dough that quickly, she had no idea, since he had yet to show her any substantial results. If she weren't so sure the guy was too afraid of her to risk really pissing her off, she'd swear he was screwing her over. Good thing for that little fear part.
"Max, my man, yer good people," Sketchy declared, the overwhelming aroma of beer-breath assaulted her sensitive nose, causing her to instinctively pull back a couple of inches.
"You are a terf… terrfific… um, terrific, friend." He considered that a moment, then nodded. "Yeah."
Max patted his back. "Thanks Sketch." She prepared to leave, but apparently he was not yet done singing her praises.
"No, no, no, I really mean it. Yer loyal. Trustworthy. You got my back. Not to mention yer like waaay hot…"
"Sketch."
"Uh, what I'm tryin' to say here is, like, thanks for yer help with that whole Lydia-Natalie stit… stitation… stitua… um, thing."
"Yeah, whatever. Just remember what I told you."
"'Kay," he replied, grinning toothily.
Max looked at him. Judging by his expression, and the fact that his attention had just been drawn away by a particularly interesting stain on his shirt - though she had to admit, all the stains on his shirt look pretty interesting… but not necessarily interesting in a good way - she doubted he had an idea of what she was talking about. Hell, in his current state, he probably couldn't remember what he was talking about. She shook her head briefly, deciding to let it go.
"Alright, buddy, I'm gonna get goin' now."
"'Kay."
She removed his arm from her shoulders and propped him up against the nearest table, knowing with almost near-certainty that if she didn't leave him with some sort of support, he wouldn't be remaining on his feet much longer. When she was fairly sure he wasn't going to fall anytime soon - or not while she was anywhere in the near vicinity, where she would have felt somewhat obligated to help him back up - she headed back toward her table.
As she neared her friends, she noticed that someone had joined them since she'd left. She couldn't make out much, just the back of his head as he stood, talking to Kendra apparently. Hmm… gray head of hair; seemed a little older than the usual Crash patron, and a lot older than Kendra's usual hot boy.
But aside from the whole age factor, she couldn't help but feel that there was just a little something… off… about the situation. Granted she couldn't see much from where she was, but his body language was wrong. Too stiff for flirting, yet too much confidence to just be passed off as awkwardness.
Max tuned in to the conversation, hoping to pick up some sort of clue to explain or dismiss her uneasiness.
"… leave with anyone?" he finished, and for some reason, his voice sent an oddly familiar thread of anxiety down her spine.
There was something in his hand, something he'd been showing Kendra. Max frowned, zooming in on the item. A picture, that much she could tell, but at the angle at which it was held, it was impossible to make out the details. She stepped a little to the side, trying to get a better view. Just then, Kendra glanced up, meeting Max's eyes, her friend's widening just minutely, as if trying to tell her something. But it lasted no more than a second, and almost immediately, Kendra returned her gaze to the stranger's face.
"No, he was alone," she said quickly, but apparently her little shift of attention had not escaped his observation.
At the very moment before he turned toward her, Max suddenly noticed the two men standing nearby, both alternating between watching the table's occupants and all-too-casually glancing over the throng of people around them. On the nearer one, she could just make out an earpiece. Her eyes shot back to her friends, and instead her gaze connected with that of Colonel Lydecker.
Max's breath caught in her throat, the shock of being so unexpectedly close to the very physical embodiment of all her nightmares after a decade apart, was enough to freeze her in place. And her slight hesitation cost her. Lydecker had no idea who she was, but her obvious interest in him and the occupants of the table was enough to draw his interest. His men too turned toward her, seeing what occupied their boss' attention. He took a step in her direction, and so did they.
She could feign ignorance, and he'd have little reason to suspect anything. But, if she stuck around for a chat, and if he had any suspicions, all it would take was a quick glance at the back of her neck…
Max turned sharply on her heel and tried to sink back into the crowd.
"Hey, wait!" his voice called out behind her. By the occasional indignant cries and muttered curses behind her, she knew he was pushing his way through the crowd after her. She picked up her pace. She made her way toward the main entrance, but as she arrived within view, she saw another pair of men standing in the doorway, blocking anyone from entering or leaving the building.
Oh, great. This was Lydecker… of course he was way ahead of her.
She knew the chances that the exit through the back to the alley wasn't already blocked were essentially nonexistent, but she had to try anyway. Confirming her suspicions, she then headed toward the restrooms. Her only chance was the bathroom window. She'd never stopped to really examine it before, but she could only hope it was big enough an opening for her to fit through. And hopefully she'd have enough time to get to it.
Reaching her destination, she abruptly veered off for the men's room, knowing that her pursuers would check the women's first. Every second was going to count. Of course, the guy at the urinal seemed a little surprised to see her.
"Uh… this is the men's room."
Max gave him what must have been a rather impressive glare, because he paled slightly and suddenly decided he was all done with the facilities.
"Um, right," he said, quickly fumbling to zip up his pants.
"You better take it easy. You wouldn't want anything to get… caught, in there."
His eyes widened and he paled even further… but he immediately slowed his movements. Max turned her attention back to the task at hand.
"Shit!" she exclaimed, punching the nearest stall.
"What? I didn't do anything!" The guy looked like he was ready to cry.
"Not you." Max kicked the garbage can. "Fuck!" Letting out a brief sigh, she turned toward him. "You better get out of here." After all, there was no reason to endanger his life too when Lydecker and his men came bursting in here. He hesitated only briefly, giving her one last look before scrambling for the exit.
Her plan had been grounded the moment she decided to go for the men's room, to buy herself time… because there was no window, not in here. She'd taken the unknown route and gotten herself cornered - how stupid could she be? She felt like slamming her head against the wall, but knew that giving herself a concussion probably wasn't the best way to deal with her current situation. So instead she settled for putting her fist through it.
"Temper, temper, Maxie. Now what did that wall ever do to you?"
No way. That sounded just like…
She swung around, taking in the full interior of the little bathroom, but found herself, disappointingly, alone. Great, now she was having audio-hallucinatory experiences. But of all the voices to pick… why that one? Sure, he had that nice deep, sexy rumble thing going for him, but the guy was such a… dick! Yeah, that's what she should have named him: Dick. Damn, too bad she hadn't thought of that earlier.
"Up here."
Max glanced toward the ceiling.
"Dick!"
The cocky expression he'd been wearing melted into confusion. "I thought it was Alec."
"What are you doing here?"
"We can play catch up later. Right now," he said, extending his arm toward her, "we should be gettin' outta here." She grabbed his hand with her own, and he hoisted her up through the opening he'd created by removing the ceiling panel. She landed a little awkwardly on top of him in the tight passageway.
Alec grinned up at her, his hands on her hips. "Like I said, we can play later."
Max sent him a glare, but remained silent as she quickly scrambled off of him. Carefully, Alec replaced the missing panel. "This way," he directed.
Fifteen minutes later, they were far enough away from both the Crash and Lydecker to breathe a bit easier. In an alley not far away from Max's apartment, they stopped, neither entirely sure where to go next.
"So," Alec began, grinning suddenly, "Where's my thank you?"
Max blinked. "Your thank you?" she said slowly.
"Yeah."
There was a brief pause while she seemed to consider this. "You want me to thank you."
This time, it wasn't a question, but Alec nodded anyway. Max took a step closer, and his grin faltered just a bit. Then she smiled at him, faintly, just a slight curve of her lips that somehow seemed to suggest more.
Oh wait a minute… he knew what was happening. She took another step and the grin returned full force. Yeah, this happened in the movies all the time. Guy steps in last second and saves girl from some horrible fate, and girl rewards guy with one of those big, steamy kisses. And he'd been prepared to settle for the two measly words directed his way. He really needed to work on his imagination… he was seriously undershooting here.
Alec watched as she completed a third step, leaving only a foot of space between them. Oh yeah, this was gonna be good. He licked his lips in anticipation of what he believed to be a well-deserved kiss coming his way, eyes concentrated on Max's mouth the entire time.
So he never saw her fist coming… had no clue what had even happened for the initial few second, as he lay on the cold, hard ground, one hand clutching his bloody nose.