Breaking Tradition - Chapter Six

Repetitive thoughts, an endless drip, a lingering desire still coursing through me, hate, lust, need, and on top of it all, absolute shame. I wanted to sink to the ground in despair and bury my face forever in my hands.

A few hours earlier I'd thought it couldn't get any worse. Now I wondered, half in seriousness, why couldn't they just kill me already?

Had I developed some kind of empathy for my captor - a psychological react, known to happen in hostage situations? Or was the human in me simply reaching out to the human in her? I couldn't deny that she was attractive, I'd noticed that from the very first day I met her. She had spark, defiance, a strength within her that went above any human or even familiar, that I had ever met. But at the end of the day, she was still a transgenic. Fake. She had a whole god damn zoo within her genetics.

I couldn't explain what the girl was doing to me, but being in here with bare else to concentrate on, was only making it worse. And once the thought came to mind, I couldn't shake it. I felt like a traitor to myself, and to my own people. And with that thought, came a new fear.

If I were to look in a mirror, would I see my father's face staring back at me?

If I believed in a god, I would probably at this stage pray - for release from this hole they had stuffed me into. But I believed in nothing. My murmured whispers to the goddess of my people was nothing more than lip service. How could I believe in higher powers when I felt we were the higher powers. Arrogant and superficial yes. But hey, that's me.

I had to get out of this room. Too much time has been wasted sitting and stewing over her. I had a barter system right here waiting for me to make use of it. And I was cunning enough to cheat the transgenics out of their share of the deal.

It was simple - once I finally fought back the black hole of absolute revulsion I had been feeling towards myself. 452 wanted to know the meaning of her runes. I wanted to get the hell out of here.

"Hey! Any of you freaks out there?!"

Stepping towards the door, my boot splashed in a puddle, causing rancid water to spray over my already ruined trousers. I no longer cared. Filth was the least of my problems.

"I want to speak to you 452! I think I have something you might just wanna hear!"

I waited for a reply of sorts, but only silence greeted me. Typical.

"You idiots got learning disabilities or something? Hey!"

I threw a fist at the door, splintering the wood. The impact sent a sharp sensation up my arm. Pausing in astonishment, I glanced down at the tingling limb, it almost... hurt? Again I slammed my fist into the door. Or rather, through the door. Again I felt it - heat spread through my knuckles. A sharp tremor ran up my arm.

Pain was a phantom of the mind, but so many thoughts and feelings were laying an assault against my mental defences that even the phantoms were materialising. The drip, the guilt, the shame, the crumbling walls and rank nauseous odour. I was allowing myself to become vulnerable and... weak.

If I could just get out away from 452, Terminal City and the various freaks that inhabited it, I could collect my thoughts and go back to my normal heartless, empty, unfeeling self.

...Why did that thought sound so unappealing?

"It's 5am. Not that this means anything to you - but do you think you could'a waited a couple more hours before being hit by the burning desire to co-operate?"

I smiled at the glowering X5, before answering honestly. "No."

No longer alone with my thoughts, the phantoms that hounded me were chased back into my sub-conscious. For now. I felt my usual snide self again. Relief of this fact had almost allowed my smile to be genuine.

452 rolled her eyes and muttered. "Suppose you like any excuse to make life difficult for us."

"Well you see, thoughts of you were keeping me up all night 452." I cringed at the truth that was in the statement, before carrying on. "Actually you're looking a bit washed up this morning yourself. Have a restless night too?"

"You just can't drop the arrogance can you White?" The intensity of her glare could have fried any man to a crisp, but beneath the coffee tint of her skin, I could've sworn the transgenic blushed.

"White? What's wrong 452 - we were on first name basis before weren't we?"

"We were? I don't recall you ever calling me Max?"

I paused for a moment, caught out by the truth, before nodding my head in agreement. "Yes well, we all know that your kind don't truly deserve to own names. Not even your creators felt you deserving of real identities."

She flinched as I lay emphasise on the word 'creators'. Driving in yet another reminder that her existence was entirely unnatural. Though whether I was reminding her, or myself, I wasn't quite sure.

"Don't forget your our prisoner here White." 494 stepped forward from the doorway and lay a protective arm around 452's shoulders, thus destroying my attempts to ignore his annoying presence. "So how about you just keep it zipped huh?"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up 494! Does the truth hurt? You should be used to it by now!"

I glowered at 494, inflamed by his presence. Angry that she would bring him here to protect herself from me - enraged at myself for giving a damn. His hold on 452 loosened as he made to step towards me but she grabbed the front of his shirt and held him in place.

"Don't bother Alec. He just wants someone to bite the bait."

My eyes bore into 452's own, silently willing her to make him leave. But she ignored me, instead she leant in towards him. Instantly I felt the blinding anger boil within me once more, eating me up inside.

"So, you've lowered yourself from being a trained assassin to a toy-boy 494? I'm sure your superiors would be so proud." I spat the words out, and even to me they sounded laced with jealousy. What happened to self-control?

"Was there a point to you calling us in here White?"

What annoyed me most was that 494 refused to lose his head - no matter what I said to him. And yet here I was letting him get to me. Letting this whole damn place get to me. I clenched my teeth and fought for stable ground within my mind.

"Yeah. I need to use the toilet. Can someone point me in the right direction? I wouldn't want to spoil the fine accommodation you've granted me."

"Come on Max, let's stop wasting our time on the creep and let Joshua have him." 494 made towards the door and 452 followed him without a glance towards me.

"Hold on."

They paused at the doorway and I waited for 452 to finally raise her eyes, noting how her jaw tightened for a brief moment, as if she were steeling herself against me.

"Didn't you want those runes deciphered?"

Her expression was unreadable as she answered. "So, I guess this is the part where we strike some kind of deal?"

Scratching my head as if in casual contemplation, I hesitated, and filled the silence with a slow smile before replying. "Well, you know what I want 452."

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I could practically see them hanging in the air between us. It was in that moment that I became aware of just how much they carried a double meaning. Did they also see this and wonder just which edge of the sword I was dancing on?

The silence in the room grew.

"Am I missing something here?" 494 cleared his throat and glanced to us.

452 looked as if she were fighting the urge to pull away from him and run from the room. Instead, she jumped to the defensive, like a shoplifter caught trying to escape through a side door. "Aside from half a brain, nothing Alec. Why? What are you trying to say?"

494 rolled his eyes as if the answer was glaringly obvious. "Well gee Max, would ya like me to start listing your strange behaviour now ? Or when we're no longer in the presence of our enemy?"

Was he emphasising that final word to remind 452 of what I was? Or was my paranoia causing me to read too far into every little detail? The thought reminded me of just how much I needed to get out of here.

"My son 452. Where is he? I'll decode the runes - you give me my son." My words snapped away the thick discomfort that lingered in the room and some kind of normality returned to us all once more.

Pulling away from 494 at last, and adapting what I presumed was her usual 'take no shit' manner, 452 folded her hands across her chest and stuck out a hip, an instant scowl crossing her face. "I think you know by now that nothing will ever bring your son back to you."

I couldn't help but flinch slightly, a sick feeling rose within my stomach. What exactly did she mean by that? Nothing will ever bring him back to me. I hoped she was only referring to what she felt was my dubious parenting skills. Because surely if he hadn't survived... she'd tell me?

Taking a deep breath, I sought some kind of leverage. I wanted to make her understand that I would do anything to get my son back. Even lay aside my loyalty to the Conclave and my vow to erase the transgenics if that's what she asked in return. But why would she believe me?

"Fine." The word dragged laboriously out of a throat that was suddenly dry. "But I don't know how you can expect me to strike a deal if you won't give me the one thing in the world that I care about. Or even tell me if he's still alive!"

I couldn't have spoken the words more honestly, and for a moment, 452 nearly softened. Or perhaps that was just my wishful thinking. I was beginning to wonder if she was truly as heartless and manipulative as myself.

"Try something else on your wish list White. Like perhaps getting out of here? Or getting your troop of goons out?"

"To be honest 452, I really don't care what you do with them." To be honest with myself, I hadn't paid much thought to the Phalanx at all. Part of me would love nothing more right now than to see Thula thrown head first out of a ten story...

"Okay then, so you'd desert your team. Figures..."

"Yes 452, I think we've established by now that I'm the big bad evil. I don't give a shit about my team. I don't care if you decapitate each and every one of them and send them in pieces to the Conclave as you offered earlier. I could almost be willing to supply the postal address. I don't care what you do to me. I only care about getting my son back. And that's something you don't care about. So we're really in a fix here aren't we?"

"You know, somehow I find it really hard to believe you care about Ray. Or about anyone except yourself. So yeah, forget it - like I said before. We'll work out what the runes mean ourselves."

452 turned to leave, her pout having increased to the point where her bottom lip seemed dangerously close to collecting up stagnant water from the ground. 494 still wore an expression of surprise, perhaps wondering why she was so recklessly keen to get away from my presence when I offered the answer to their annoying little riddle.

"You don't have time 452. Not if you want to 'save the world'. The time is drawing closer and you're nearly out of it already."

"What do you mean?" She turned to face me, sub-consciously raking her fingers over one palm, as if trying to scratch the runes from her body.

Ignoring 494, I stepped forward until I was mere inches from 452, unable to hide my satisfied smile as she made efforts not to flinch back from me. Taking her hand as I had a few hours earlier, I brushed my fingers over the runes once more.

"My people have been waiting for the signs for centuries, and at last, it's begun. So I'd suggest that you give me what I want, or you may just lose everything." I held her eyes with my own and allowed a smile to slowly break over my face. "And wouldn't that be a pity?"

I felt much like the wolf upon meeting Little Red Riding Hood. Here I was, in a position to lead her far off the beaten track, and she was no doubt going to trust me. What other choice did she have?

"Come on Max, you know he's just gonna lie. Why the hell would he tell us anything? That would kinda defeat his purpose in life wouldn't it?"

494's voice startled 452 into pulling her hand away from mine. I choked back the urge to snarl and throw him against the wall. Before ripping out his throat.

"Fine. Your funeral." I turned away before muttering beneath my breath. "And everyone else's on the damn planet."

"Okay!" The air stirred behind me and a hand grabbed my arm, swinging me back around. Wide eyed, 452 made poor efforts to hide her fear as she nodded and said, "Come on. We've got photos of the markings. You tell us what we want to hear, we'll let you go. That's the best deal you'll get. Or else you can just stay here and rot."

"Max..."

Her eyes flicked to 494 and back to me again, as if waiting for me to contest his warning growl.

"Look. This is the part of the story where we have to try and trust each other. Now, I don't know about you lot, but I can't stand being in this damn hole, and I'm willing to try and put a bit of trust in you if it'll get me the hell outta here."

I stepped past the transgenics and out into the corridor, leaving them to follow me. But instantly I found myself face to face with the barrell of a shotgun, and the nasty looking example of why salamanders and humans should never mate.

"Don't think so hotshot."

The reptile growled the words around his cigar, his red rimmed eyes making him look like a ragged old down-and-out drunk. I wondered if anyone had bothered telling him that before.

"It's okay Mole." Behind me, 452 stepped out from the room I had just vacated and took hold of my arm as she began to lead me . Her fingers dug sharply into my flesh as she led me down the hall, sending the same tingling sensation through me that I had felt upon driving my fist through the door. Though this time, the feeling was much more pleasurable.

Behind us walked 494, in step with the lizard. I shot 452 a sidelong glance. "I would've thought that you'd put me in a better room than that you know. Don't you want me to give the NSA a nice glowing report in your favour? Tell them of the transgenics great hospitality?"

"Whatever White. Why waste a good room on you? You'll tell them we shoved you into a hole in the ground and took turns pissing on your head either way."

"True true. And hey - thanks for the idea."

The arguing had been going on for hours. I can't remember how it started - oh wait, I can. Earlier in this drawn out little tale, I'd overhead one of the transgenics speak of his theories regarding the purpose of their creation - that my father had originally set out to create familiars with a built in immunity to the pathogen contained within the snakes. They didn't like hearing it then, and they didn't like being told it now. But, they wanted to know what the runes said. Don't ask a question if you're not prepared to hear the answer.

"I agree that his interpretation is tainted by his hatred towards us, but what if in some way - he's right?" The pixie looking little critter was really getting into this debate. I found the whole thing to be thoroughly enjoyable.

No Luke! Father was good!" The dog leant forward in his seat uttered a low growl.

"Yeah I'm sure he was Josh, after he found out his youngest son was going to die and he developed a bit of compassion for the rest of the world.�

"No Dix, Luke, you didn't know Father!"

�But hang on, people don't just change from being the 'epitome of all evil'.� 452 stepped forward, and threw a glance at me before continuing. �One day, busy working hard in a secret lab, churning out mass market familiars to aid in world domination... Next, becoming the world's saviour - turning an army of death into the protectors of the human race. It doesn't make sense.�

The one they called 'Luke' shrugged, still convinced he was right but no longer sure how to back up his argument in the face of disbelievers. �But that's what he was wasn't he? In the beginning? No matter what kind of good guy he may have turned into, he was one of them to start."

"Enough! Father was not the bad guy!"

The dog-thing leapt from his seat and grabbed his companion by his throat, lifting him into the air. It amused me no end to see that life was definitely edgy for these creatures. They were like rubber bands on the verge of breaking point.

494 and the lizard both moved to the enraged were-wolf and tried to release his hold. The little freak between his paws was kicking his feet uselessly as gurgles escaped his mouth. This was damn good entertainment. I didn't want to agree with what the thing was trying to say, but I didn't have any choice if the runes were anything to go by.

At last the dog backed away, restrained by almost everyone else who'd been sitting at the table. The near-strangled little critter looked amusingly wounded, as if being launched upon by his friend actually hurt his feelings (I'm presuming it's a 'he'?). The amusement factor was the idea of these things actually having feelings. Then again, they could talk couldn't they? Wonders never cease.

As he sat there gulping in air, his little buddy, the creature they called 'Dix' picked up on his trail of thought, apparently having learnt no lessons from his pal's near death experience.

"Think about the caducus symbol they all wear Max! It's the symbol of the messenger. YOU. That's yet another thing that ties you in with the familiars. They wear the symbol of the messenger and you are the messenger! And you just so happened to get branded with it during Ray's initiation! As far as prophesies are concerned, that's got to mean something right? It sounds to me that Sandeman was creating more familiars and somewhere along the line, he began to change his mind about the purpose?"

The room fell silent as they pondered upon the implications of this outburst. All except for the pet pup whose endless growling was grating on my nerves. The Quasimodo was right about one thing. My father had initially wanted to step the process up a notch rather than break away from it completely.

I shared with my father, religious scepticism . It would be heresy to admit that the idea of beckoning on an ancient Snake Goddess for protection and fertility was fanaticism at it's best, and so I would never dare to suggest such a thing. Out loud. But the hooded cloaks, the war paint and the chanting were simply stage props. The underlying point was in having strength against the pathogen contained within the blood of the snake. Taking a small dose of it during the initiation ceremony was like taking a vaccine. If you survived that, there was an alright chance that you'd survive the real thing. Or so we all hoped.

452 had kept a careful eye on me throughout the outburst, as if gauging my reaction to the hilarities of the day would give her insight into how much truth I told. At this point, I was sticking to the truth. Nothing I'd told her so far was anything that would have any devastating effect on my people. She knew a little bit of back history to the creation of the transgenics - borne of my father's need to confess his sins I guess. But the history lesson wasn't going to teach her how to stop us.

"Tell me again, what these runes mean. This time, how about a word for word translation? Or are you afraid of slipping up on a lie?"

She had covered her fear with anger, but I could still see that she was afraid. Afraid that I was telling her the truth.

"Do you think I'm happy to hear about it 452? Do you really think I'd want to tell you that the Boy Wonders over there are right?" I waved an impatient hand towards the two mutants. Couldn't she just deal with it already and move on?

"You promised the truth!"

"Shit are you thick? This is the fucking truth! My father felt the process of selective breeding was too slow so he thought he'd speed it up - we were running out of time, too many of us were dying! He had a point, I gotta give the guy that. He achieved as much within a few years as we've spent thousands of years perfecting. But you can be damned sure I'm not happy with it! And neither were the Conclave - did he really expect we'd welcome a bunch of... replicas, with open arms?"

The black clouds were rolling in and I took a calming breath before blowing any chance of getting the hell out of here. "Now. I've kept up my side of the bargain. Think you can bear to part with me now, and send me on my merry way?"

"So you can go back to your job of hunting us down?"

"Pretty much." I nodded my head affirmatively. As she said herself, she wanted honesty. "Yeah."

"Fine." The word was softly spoken, the gaze accompanying it penetrating, as she tried to find something within my eyes that told her I was holding something back.

"Look. There's nothing more to add. Your latest message is nothing more than a filler. Sandeman's way of relieving a guilty conscience. I guess he never expected to be around to tell you in person."

"Why did he use the language of your people?"

There it was. The fear rearing its head in her again. "I don't know what the old codger's motives were. Perhaps he foresaw us meeting up and becoming buddy-bud's or something?"

Oh god the irony in my words hit me. It seemed his premonition was falling into place. I could tell myself that I loathed this creature before me, but I couldn't pretend it wouldn't contradict with how I felt last night when she was pinned on the ground beneath me. And here I was telling her the meaning of the runes. Did he know his eldest living son was going to aid the transgenic cause, by will or force - one way or another?

"You know 452, as much as I've enjoyed the quality time, I'd like to get outta this dump now."

She opened her mouth to say something further, but changed her mind and simply nodded. As she led me from the room, 494 made to follow but she stopped him with a raised palm. "No. I'll see him out myself."

"Max, are you sure it's safe to be alone with the guy?"

Several lifetimes could have passed as she paused to consider her reply. "Yeah, it's a little thing called trust."

The answer surprised me, as it did everyone else in the room it seemed. 494's jaw dropped in surprise, while the dog-thing stepped forward and growled.

"Trust him? Think Annie trusted him?"

How do you answer a question like that? How do you stop the awkward silence from rushing in to stifle the room? Even if I had wanted to apologise, nothing would ever stop the beast from wanting to rip my head from my neck. Would I feel any different if he had done the same thing to Ray? That was the thing that caused self-disgust to take its grip around my throat once more. I could expect something like this creature before me to snap the necks of innocent blind girls in the sewers, and so could the general public. That's why they didn't hesitate to believe it. But the thing is, it wasn't some kind of grotesque Frankenstein who murdered her. It was me. And I was supposed to be a superior creature. The thought now made me sick.

It seemed they waited for me to speak. How could they lay this on me now? Here I was thinking I was getting out of there, and suddenly I was shoved into a lose/lose situation with a great big hairy freakin' were-wolf. What was I supposed to say?

As I've said before, I'm a practical man. I do what needs to be done. I wouldn't usually make a casual habit out of snapping the necks of innocents, but to generate public fear and hatred for the transgenics, it had to be done. I was following orders. But would tellingthem that, really be in my best interests?

"You came from Manticore - you had to follow orders. And I'm sure that sometimes those orders went against your better judgement and your morals. But you did what you had to do, because if you didn't - you're superiors wouldn't take it very well if you came back and told them you couldn't carry out the job because it didn't 'feel right'."

I looked around at some of the guilty faces that surrounded me, and hid my smirk of satisfaction. "And what would those superiors do to you then?"

"You can't compare our actions to your own! We didn't know any better!" The outburst came from - of course - 494. I turned to him as he came up to stand beside the dog-thing, and eyed them both.

"Yeah, and neither did I. I was following orders. Just like you. I didn't know any better then, and I doubt I know any better now. It's in our blood to hate each other -"

"No it's not." This statement came from the dog-thing whose face had remained impassive as I spoke. Now, he turned to me and elaborated. "Father - Sandeman. He didn't hate us. And he's your blood. It's not in your blood to hate us. It's in your decision."

This creature had been my father's favourite. Joshua. His first little miracle. He had spoken of him on many occasions. There was no doubt that the creature had the kind of wisdom that could only be possessed by spending large amounts of time in the company of Sandeman. I had not spent much time with my father at all. Project Manticore had consumed him. The transgenics were all he cared for. Them, and CJ. I could make allowances for CJ, forgive him for taking my father's attention. But not... these.

"And I think we all know what my decision is."

'Joshua's' expression hardened once more and he nodded and stepped away, tugging on 494's arm and pulling him back. 452 stepped forward and took their place, her eyes dull and blank as if she too had just closed herself off to me. It seemed a more permanent truce had been offered up between us, and I'd just gone and ripped it to shreds. Well, we can't help who we are can we?

She led me from the building and we walked towards the outskirts of Terminal City in an uncomfortable silence. I replayed the events of the past few days over in my head while throwing her occasional glances. Her expression remained set in stone and I mirrored my own to match.

I had already formulated my excuse for the NSA as to how I managed to lead my men off in a different direction, yet gain access into Terminal City myself. There was no doubt that the transgenics release of me would probably favour them in terms of public reaction. Between this, and the fact that the Phalanx were still being held in there somewhere, I knew the Conclave would be much harder to win over.

We reached an unguarded section of the perimeter fence at last. There were transgenics all around us, out of sight, but I could sense them watching for me to make an attack towards 452. Thus ruling out any consideration towards knocking her out and taking her with me to the Conclave. Not that I had considered the idea. Then again, not that I hadn't.

She stopped and turned to me as we reached a gap in the wire mesh. I could see she was trying to find words and had probably been seeking them since we left the building. I waited, aware that the others hidden out of sight, waited also.

"So you've made your decision? This is the end of our little trust dealio?"

The words fell from her mouth in a rush, as if she'd shoved them from the pit of her stomach using brute force.

"You know, if you were to give me back my son, I'd stop hunting you. And the rest of your kind."

"What about that speech about following the Conclave's orders that you gave us just before?"

"I'd take my son and go to ground. Leave the Conclave. The only thing I care about is Ray and if you would just -"

"No. No way. Why can't you just accept that he's -."

She stopping herself from filling in the sentence with those final, crucial words. Accept that he's better off without me? Or accept that he's dead?

"Why can't you just tell me if he's alive?" I stood awkwardly before her, ashamed at myself to being reduced to begging. "Please? At least give me that?"

The silence was disturbed by a foot fall somewhere out of sight, and the unnerving click of several guns being cocked. Remembering that she had a convoy of body guards - an audience - hidden out of sight, she pulled her head away.

"Fine. I'll tell you that much. But first, I want to hear you call me by my name."

I laughed and stepped back, genuinely amused that after holding back this information from me for so long, it would be a simple name that would become so damn important to her.

"Alright." Ignoring the unseen audience and the voice inside my head that asked me why I was doing this, I took the plunge, reminding myself it was just a word - and that it was worth it for some peace of mind. "Could you please tell me if my son is still alive - Max?"

I had always expected that if ever forced to say it, the name would roll off my mouth like vomit. To me, she could only be 452. Less than a person. Less than an animal. Simply an object churned off the assembly line in cardboard packaging like a toy. That's how I was supposed to feel. .

As the name passed my lips, she closed her eyes for a fleeting moment, her entire expression sinking into a kind of relief, as if she had just made some great momentous achievement. Perhaps a part of her viewed me as some kind authority much like those who controlled her in Manticore. Those who looked at her as if she were only an object, and refused to allow her a name. And maybe getting me to call her 'Max' allowed her to lay the ghosts of her own past. A triumph over those who would never grant her status of anything more than a living weapon. Or a pest to be scoured from the earth.

I cleared my throat and her eyes snapped open. Both of us suddenly extremely uncomfortable by the small moment of... understanding, we had just shared. Sliding my mask back into place, I demanded she now follow up on her side of the deal and she nodded and crossed her arms, her own mask of apathy likewise reinstalled.

"He's alive."

Two words. Two of the most beautiful words I had ever heard. Relief overcame me and I almost sagged as months of tension seemed to flow from every cell of my body. Those were two of the most important words I had ever heard, and I couldn't keep the smile from breaking the carefully fully constructed mask.

"He's alive?" My voice was a bare whisper and she returned the smile with one of her own and a nod of affirmation. She had given me far more in those two words than I had given her with my one. "Thank you. Max."

Her eyes widened in surprise as she tried to shrugged my thanks away. She seemed unsure of how to handle Ames White when he wasn't trying to kill her. For a moment we were neither enemy nor friend. Simply two people, laying to rest our ghosts. Just for a moment.

"Just a word of advice - " I paused, not wanting to call her Max again, but not wanting to call her 452 either. "I have to report to the Conclave. They're not going to be happy to know you're holding our people here still. I'd suggest you release the Phalanx - before they come to reclaim them."

She hesitated for a moment, no doubt wanting to insist they could hold off any attack sent in against them. But instead she nodded silently once more, apparently having lost her voice. Taking it as my cue to leave I turned, breaking the awkwardness that came of us remembering we were enemies, by passing through the gap in the fence and returned to the hostilities of the outside world once more. Without a backward glance.

"It's good to see you've returned safe and sound sir."

"Yes Otto." I rolled my eyes and turned away. "And I'm sure you mean that too."

My NSA partner chose not to comment on that one, and so we drove on in silence, making our run of the streets, on alert for any rouge transgenic that may be causing havoc with the citizens of Seattle.

{{Calling all units. We have transgenics on the run in sector 6. They're in a light brown Ford Mustang, heading South on Everwood. It's believed that one passenger is the transgenic caught on news footage as she commandeered -}}

"That's us." I turned the car down a side street and began heading in the direction of Everwood Drive.

"Sir we're not even in sector -"

"Shut up Otto."

We soon passed into sector 6, the voice coming to us through the airwaves told us the direction to continue heading in. Several police cars had joined in on the chase and by the sounds of it, they were closing in on them.

I knew the cops way of dealing with the transgenics. Shoot them down or allow the public to get to them first. Usually, such a thing wouldn't bother me. A few less trannies to dispose of myself after all. But, I had to get to 452 before they did. I didn't care what excuse I used for myself as to why. Because she knew where my son was - that was the tried and true reason I'd used thus far, it would do.

I ignored Otto's surprise at my insistence to follow this chase, and continued to weave my way through side streets, trying to predict where they were going. Not towards Terminal City it seemed, and with their movements restricted to one sector, the net was drawing in on them.

"Sir what does it matter? They'll come through the NSA doors one way or another."

Yeah, maybe in a body bag. I blocked out his yapping and as I was about to turn right into Grange, the very car I was searching for shot out and dodged to avoid me. I spun around and slammed my foot on the accelerator, the rumble of the V8 leading me in its direction even when it would at times disappear out of sight. For now we had lost the other persuers and I hoped to keep it that way. But soon, as I drove down numerous streets and came up empty, I realised we had lost the Mustang too.

"Shit!"

I slammed the dashboard as we came to a halt at a small intersection in one of the scabbier back areas of sector 6. "Shit!" I repeated.

And then it happened, so fast I didn't realise what I was even witnessing until the sound of grinding metal finally ceased.

A non-descript yellow car approached from the opposite direction, pausing briefly at the intersection, before heading on in our direction. The roar of the V8 should have given the car some kind of warning, but the driver obviously didn't have the same hearing as my own. Travelling at speed, the Mustang shot out from the road to left. Failing to stop for the intersection, its driver didn't notice the small yellow car or perhaps thought to swerve around it.

Either way, whatever best case scenario the transgenics had hoped to come out of today's car chase, it failed to come to pass. Their vehicle slammed into the yellow car, sending it spinning away at the same time as the force of the collision caused the Mustang to catapult into the air, over top of the sunny yellow bonnet.

The surrealistic scene seemed to play out in slow motion and fast-forward all at once. The sound of the two cars colliding reverberated around the surrounding buildings like gruesome background music. I watched in shock as the Mustang lifted into the air, rising above the rooftops of car's parked on the curb, twisting as it descended. Landing on it's side first, then rolling over and over, it's body caving in more each time it struck the ground. Until finally it came to a sliding halt.

Inside, no one moved. I stepped out of my own car and glanced around, withdrawing my gun in the process. As I strode towards the mangled wreck, the world seemed suddenly far too quiet. No one had come to investigate the sound, no one peered out through the slits of curtained windows. There were no witnesses. This was almost too easy.

"Sir! What are you doing?"

Reaffirm: This was almost too easy.

"Shut up Otto. Stay out of it."

452 lay across the lap of the unconscious driver beside her. Unmoving. I reached in and nudged her. Damn it if she died now. I still had questions for her. "Hey! 452!" But there was no response

"Wake up 452!" I didn't want to call her by her name. Not again. That moment where I had felt empathy for her and her kind had passed the second I found myself away from Terminal City and once again in the company of my own species. She was the enemy, and nothing more. Perhaps my actions of a few days ago while in their captivity, had contradicted this entirely, but I'd learnt from my mistakes. The Conclave had made sure of that.

Otto hovered beside me, sending me questioning looks while opening and closing his mouth like a deranged goldfish. The guy could take a hint... eventually, but he wasn't reading anything loud and clear today.

"Look, back off!"

As usual, I ignored his wounded expression. I was used to being given such looks - save the bleeding heart shit for someone who gives a flying fuck.

Turning back to the car, I walked over to the driver's side and leant in through the opened window, grabbing 452 beneath her shoulders in preparation to haul her out. Then my ears picked up on it. The sound. The sound that suggested if I didn't get her out soon, I'd lose her to the NSA and therefore my son would be forever lost too. And now that I knew he was alive, there was no way I was going to let them take her. The problem lay in the chance that it could already be too late for 452.