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Dark Angel: The Encounter

Part Two of the Breakout Cycle

By Matt Quinn 

Rated PG-13 for violence and language 

In 2009, unknown terrorists detonated a nuclear weapon eighty miles above the United States. The resulting electromagnetic pulse (EMP ) wrecked most of the computers east of the Rocky Mountains and caused a massive economic depression in the United States, effectively ending its days as a superpower. The USA is now in the same condition as its former Soviet enemy, a bankrupt mess with only crime, poverty, and nuclear weapons to its name. This is the world of Max, an escapee from the top-secret Manticore project. Max works at Jam Pony, a messenger company in Seattle, and tries to find the others who fled Manticore in 2009, eleven years in the past. Recently Max was captured by Lydecker and ended up allied with her former trainer and several other X-5s to attack Manticore itself. The lab was destroyed but Max and Zack were captured. Soon after the raid, South African super-soldiers known as the Reds and led by Captain Jan Visser rescued her and returned to Seattle. Our story begins where �The Escape� ends� 

Disclaimer: The characters and overall story of �Dark Angel� belong to James Cameron. However, characters and situations unique to The Breakout Cycle stories (as well as the story itself) belong to me (so don�t use �em without permission). 

*Note to readers: American equivalents used for South African military ranks. Usually, it�s a translation of Afrikaans to English. 

**Note to web-masters (erase this once you�ve followed its instructions): Keep ALL italics. They�re used for dream sequences, hallucinations, and flashbacks; all things important to the story. Keep the note to readers, however. 

Logan�s Penthouse, Seattle, 8:34 PM 

Max and Logan continued to hold each other, unaware of the world around them.

�I love you,� Max said, still weeping. �I tried to tell you that after the X-7 shot me, but...�

�Don�t worry,� Logan said. �I love you too.� Max held him tighter when he said that.

Captain Jan Visser of the South African Defense Force and Colonel Donald Lydecker of the US Army largely ignored the emotional goings-on. �Well, sir,� Captain Visser said. �I�ve completed the mission. Now I have to contact my superiors in Pretoria and get instructions on what to do next.�

�Good idea,� Lydecker said.

�I�ll be back in a moment.� Captain Visser left the living room and entered Logan�s bedroom. The man probably wouldn�t want strangers in his room for extended periods of time, so he promised himself to make it quick. He dialed a number on the secure satellite phone and waited for the people in Pretoria to pick up. 

Covert Operations Office, Pretoria, South Africa, 11:30 AM 

It was nearly noon in Pretoria, South Africa, and it was in the middle of the rainy season. The rain drummed on the roof of the covert operations office, making a very somnolent sound. Lt. Colonel Al Wallis sat at his desk, filling out some paperwork about weapons system procurement when the phone rang. He picked it up. �Who is this?� he asked gruffly.

�Captain Jan Visser, currently leading the 21^st Red Team in America,� Captain Visser said in Afrikaans, the guttural Dutch-German hybrid commonly spoken in South Africa. He had decided to use that particular tongue to make it difficult for people to listen in on what he was saying. Not that he distrusted the people he was currently hanging out with, but untrustworthy people could be lurking around and listening in. �Our mission is complete.�

�Good job,� he said, replying in Afrikaans. He knew why Captain Visser was using a language uncommon to the United States and he decided to make his subordinate�s job easier. �Our channels in the United States have picked up quite a bit on what went on at Manticore yesterday. Two destroyed Apaches, a damaged security checkpoint, and lots of dead Black Ops people. Your boys aren�t subtle, but they are thorough. I take it you got the X-5�s body?�

�Actually, sir, she was still alive the whole time. Apparently Colonel Lydecker was wrong in that matter. We brought her back to Seattle and she�s currently having a tearful reunion with the man who�s currently hiding Colonel Lydecker from the authorities. Our mission here is apparently complete.�

�Oh? Well, that�s good.�

�Sir, what do I do next?�

�Well, according to my sources in America, they�re searching hill-and-dale all over the Pacific Coast for you people. I�d suggest you lay low in the United States for the time being, about a week or so, then get to the retrireview point. There are people waiting to take you back home for debriefing and some R&R. It�ll take a week for the immediate hunt for you all and the X-5 to die down.�

�What should I do in the meantime, sir? We don�t really have a place to �lie low� in and we�ll still have to go out to retrieve Vornster�s implant.� There was a pause and Captain Visser quickly added �Vornster was a Red who died at the checkpoint and we carried his body here. We burned the corpse in the escape vehicle, but someone�s got to retrieve the implant.�

There was a pause. �Have�you�lost�any�more�implants?� Lt. Colonel Wallis asked, punctuating every word. His voice was hard as steel. The Red Series implants were above Top Secret and it would be very bad for South Africa if enemy powers got hold of the technology. China, though humbled, still had Marxist allies in Africa who could act as proxies in a terror campaign. The Communists still burned for revenge and they knew that the South African rebels had supplied the Taiwanese with the two nuclear weapons that they used to obliterate the Chinese invasion forces during the Pacific War. Also, if the United States found the implant and recognized the technology, they would have hard evidence that a supposed �ally� was running commando operations on their soil and there would be diplomatic hell to pay.

�We may have lost one, sir,� Captain Visser said, gulping. �Our helicopter was hit by a missile after one of the Reds crippled a pursuing Apache with a Milan rocket launcher. The rocket blew the Red to pieces and probably destroyed the implant. What�s left of Mfune�s, that is, the Red who died, body is most likely at the bottom of the Yellowstone River, in bite-size chunks. Our chopper was crippled by the Apache�s last attack and we couldn�t stop to look for debris anyhow, since our fuel lines were cut, sir.�

�I understand, Captain. However, I suspect the Americans will search the forests over which the enemy chopper was hit and they may find something. I�ll have to send another team in ahead of them and that will be difficult, since they�ve got quite a head start. How on Earth did you people defeat a pursuing Apache anyway? The Blackhawk-D is designed for supporting a commando team against superior ground forces more so than aerial combat.�

�We used the rotating rocket pods to destroy one Apache and the Red Mfune crippled the second with the rocket launcher, sir. The Apache gunner managed to fire two rockets before he ejected. One rocket missed, the other hit our chopper, tore the fuel lines, and blew Mfune into tiny pieces. We barely got the rendezvous point and our pilot was injured.�

�Captain Thabo and his men got clear of the search area and made it back to South Africa. Your pilot�s been recommended for some medals of merit due to the extreme happenings of the mission. His injuries are also being taken care of. We hadn�t debriefed him yet, due to his injuries and lack of sleep, so we didn�t know too much.�

�That�s good, sir. When are the medals being presented?�

�Next month.�

�I hope to be there to see it, sir. He injured himself saving my men and I from some serious hurt.�

�Good. Now, retrieve the implant from the Red you just burned, then find some place to hide and venture out only when necessary. I�ll call you on that satellite phone of yours from here when I think that you should venture out. I give you the authority to do what you think best for the survival of you and your team, however. If you think that you�ve got an opportunity to leave that�s earlier than the timetable I�ve given you, take it. However, don�t get killed or captured.�

�Yes sir.�

�Good. Kommandant Wallis out.� He hung up the phone. Then, he picked it up again and dialed another number. �Hello, Lt. Colonel Phosa? I�ve got a slight problem in America with the Reds. A missing implant. Now, I need a team to sweep a large forested area�� 

Logan�s Penthouse, Seattle, Washington, 8:47 PM 

Captain Visser walked back to the main room. Max and Logan were still holding one another, only now there were describing what had occurred during their separation. Lydecker eyed the Reds with a somewhat analytical air. �I heard that Max implanted herself with a Red implant and wiped out a squad of Reds,� he said as Captain Visser entered the room.

�And nearly killed herself in the process,� Logan said. �Accelerate an accelerated physiology and you�re asking for trouble.�

�And how do you know about all this, pray tell?� Captain Visser asked Logan.

�I had to short out the implant before it gave Max a stroke,� Logan said. �Used one of those heart-restarting tools to do it. I have a friend who knows all about this sort of thing too. Especially why you folks are interested in Manticore technology.�

�Relax,� Captain Visser said. �I had to convince Max back in Idaho we weren�t going to take her back to South Africa and vivisect her for our �dark purposes.� Do I have to convince you of the same thing?�

�Maybe,� Logan said. �Your Reds still have their guns.� Captain Visser looked to the Reds, who still had their weapons in their hands.

�At ease, men,� Captain Visser said. The Reds lowered their weapons, appearing as non-threatening as possible. �Sorry about that, Mr��

�Logan Cale,� Logan said, stepping away from Max to shake Captain Visser�s hand. The South African had a firm handshake. Captain Visser noted the same thing about Logan.

�I�m Captain Jan Visser, from the South African Defense Force,� the Captain introduced himself. �I�ve come up here from sunny Durban to assist in cooperative efforts between the Red program and Manticore. Retrieving Max�s body was part of the deal, only it seems reports of Max�s death were greatly exaggerated.�

�You enjoy saying that, don�t you?� Max said, sinking down onto the sofa.

�It�s a nice little deadpan joke I know,� Captain Visser said nonchalantly. �Humor is good.�

�I suppose you were contacting your superiors while you were in Logan�s bedroom,� Lydecker interrupted. �What have they said?�

�They told me to lie low for awhile and try to get to the retrireview point. However, I don�t really have a place to �lie low� in. Do you know of any hotels that don�t ask too many questions?�

�You can stay here,� Logan said. �I�ve got plenty of room.�

�That�s very nice of you, Mr. Cale, but I wouldn�t want to impose. There are several of us and apparently Colonel Lydecker is also your guest.�

�Call me Logan and you don�t need to worry. Some of you can stay here and I can arrange it with the building�s owner for those of you who can�t fit here to sleep in one of the vacant apartments downstairs.�

�If you must then, we insist on paying for it.� Captain Visser withdrew the pouch from his pocket and removed a couple of Kruger rands. �This�ll be plenty, I think.�

�You boys do what you want, but I�m going home for the night. All this is exhausting,� Max interrupted.

�Max�� Captain Visser began.

�Don�t,� Max said. �I appreciate your concern and all, but you don�t need to worry too much.�

�Okay then,� the Captain said. �Alex!� Captain Visser called to one of the Reds, �go with Max and keep an eye on her. Stand outside the door of wherever she�s living.�

�Captain, some of Johannesson�s Reds held my roommate hostage some time ago,� Max said. �Would it be a good idea for one of them to act as my bodyguard at this time?�

�He doesn�t actually have to come in,� Captain Visser said. �He can keep his presence secret if need be.�

�Maybe,� Max said, climbing up from the sofa and heading for the door. Alex Metje, a tall and slender Caucasian with shorn red hair, stepped after her. 

Outside Logan�s Penthouse, 8:45 PM 

Max turned around and saw Metje standing there with his Uzi. �Didn�t I tell Captain Visser that I didn�t want a bodyguard?�

�You said �maybe�,� the accelerated man said. �That can mean yes or it can mean no. Besides, going back to wherever you live is not advisable under these circumstances. For all you know, there could be a hundred Black Ops people lurking around your home, waiting for you. You ought to stay here, where�s it�s reasonably safe.�

Max rolled her eyes. �Fine. But remember, my roommate had some trouble with a previous squad of Reds and I don�t want you scaring her.�

�I don�t look like most of the Reds,� Metje said. �Most of them were hardened criminals who spent years breaking rocks, before volunteering to be Reds to escape the death penalty. I volunteered because I had terminal cancer and figured I could spend my last few months serving my country rather than rotting away in a hospital. I have about six months to live; the implants typically last six months. No problem there. Due to its effects on my body, I won�t be an invalid before I die, like I would have been.�

�Did Captain Visser tell you that finding me would lead to a cure for you?� Max asked. Despite the Captain�s apparent good faith and overall nice-ness, she still didn�t fully trust the South Africans.

�He said it might. Lydecker gave South Africa some of the Manticore technology in exchange for some equipment. Captain Visser said that if the Manticore technology could be adapted to create longer-lasting Reds, it could be transferred to us and make us live longer. Gene therapy, I think. He didn�t lie to us, Max. I�ve known him for years, since before the war in 2009, and he�s never given me any reason not to trust him.�

�You can�t always trust government people,� Max said. �I�ve got plenty of reasons for that. Now, if you want to follow me home, you�ll have to be able to keep up.� Max smiled playfully at him and took off running. Metje just stood there for a few minutes, shrugged, and took off running as well. 

Max�s Apartment, 9:00 PM 

Max burst through the door, laughing her head off. Original Cindy looked up.

�Max!� she said excitedly. �Where have you been, boo?� It had been four days since they had last seen one another and she was worried. �And what�s so funny?�

�It�s a long story, Max said.� Behind her, Metje came jogging up. The Red was smiling too.

�Is this a new boyfriend?� Original Cindy asked, looking carefully at the newcomer. �Has the rich boy been frozen out?�

�No,� Max said, smiling. �This is�what is your name, anyway?�

�You�re taking a man home and you don�t even know his name? Are you in heat again?�

Metje smiled. �I�m Alex Metje,� he said easily. �And you?�

�I�m Original Cindy,� she said. Then she looked at him funny. �There�s something about you, Mr. Metje. You�ve got that Uzi, which most men around here couldn�t afford, and you have a funny look to you.� She flicked his outstretched hand with her fingernails, hard. Most people would have winced somewhat. He didn�t react at all. The something connected in her head.

�Oh no,� Original Cindy gasped, backing away. �You�re one of those Reds, aren�t you?�

�You see?� Max said angrily to Metje as she turned to face him full-on. �I told Captain Visser this would happen! And weren�t you supposed to be staying outside the door the whole time?�

�Oops,� Metje said. �I was, wasn�t I? Well, the cat�s out of the bag, and wasn�t the whole point of me staying outside was to not scare your roommate?�

�I suppose,� Max said, turning away from Metje to see where Original Cindy had gone. She wasn�t there. All of a sudden, Original Cindy stepped back into the room with a pistol, the weapon pointing right at Metje�s face.

�I�ve taken precautions,� Original Cindy said. �I wasn�t going to be caught unprepared by you folks again!�

�Whoa, whoa, whoa,� Metje said, �calm down! I�m not here to hurt any of you!�

�I thought you said she might not recognize you as a Red?� Max said. �Because you weren�t a criminal?�

�The reason I said that is because most Reds are Death Row criminals and the prison in South Africa we send them, along with other hardened criminals with lesser sentences for that matter, has them break rocks daily. We sell the resulting gravel, and that pays for their upkeep. It enables us to keep taxes low. Because I didn�t spend years doing that, I wasn�t big and blocky like most of them were. Since the squad of Reds that had been sent here before had only Death Row inmates on it, I thought she might recognize some of the other Reds based on their size. Captain Visser sent me, not the others, based on the same reasoning. Granted, I�m not some kind of wimp and I have beaten the bigger ones in training matches before, but��

�Okay, I get it,� Max said. Metje seemed to have a tendency to ramble. She turned back to Original Cindy. �Okay, put the gun down. He�s not here to do anything bad.�

�Why should I believe that? And who�s this Captain Visser guy anyway?� She still hadn�t lowered the gun.�

�You want to know where I was?� Max asked Original Cindy. Then she started yelling. �I was recaptured by Manticore and the Reds, led by Captain Visser who�s a very nice person actually, saved my ass! They�ve gotten the Manticore technology from another source and now they aren�t interested in kidnapping me and taking me to South Africa anymore! Now you can put the gun down right now!�

�Whoa,� Original Cindy said, lowering the pistol. �That�s it?� She looked at Metje.

�Yes, that�s it. And Captain Visser briefed us on what happened with the previous Red team. We all thought Max was already dead, so Captain Visser didn�t talk much about how she�d react to us, but since another Red team had been wiped out on a similar mission, he wanted us to know these things. That�s how I know this stuff!�

�Okay,� Original Cindy said. �I got the point the first sentence.� Metje rolled his eyes and Original Cindy gave him a dirty look. �Now,� the woman continued. �What happened with Manticore and the Reds again?�

�It�s a long story,� Max said. �Well, I was hanging out at Logan�s apartment a few days ago when�� 

Living Room, Logan�s Penthouse, 1:55 AM 

March 8^th, 2012, in a transport plane over Zimbabwe. �All right!� Captain van Hets said through his gas mask. �We�re going into Zimbabwe because that�s the source of the Communists� nerve gas! We think the North Koreans are shipping it to their people in Zimbabwe, then they transfer it to Mugabe, and Mugabe transfers it to Soke and his Communist goons! They then proceed to gas our people! We�ve all seen it and we�re going to end it right now! Do you all know why we�re doing this?�

�Sir yes sir!� the assembled Volkssturm and Inkatha commandos roared. The heavy gas masks that they were wearing somewhat muffled their voices, but their enthusiasm was obvious.

�We�re the first ones in! Our ground forces will cross the border in a couple of hours but we�re going to strike at the enemy nerve gas facilities! That way, they won�t have too much to stop us with! Other teams are striking other vital targets, such as the North Korean embassy, the train depot where the gas is shipped to our country, and the Harare Presidential Palace, to kill that bastard Mugabe! By the time we�re done, the enemy poison gas capacity will be in ruins! Strike Team A will drop first and take out the enemy fuel depots and generators. Strike Team B will land directly on top of the storage tanks and blow them up! That�s why you�re all in chemical weapons gear. The place will be flooded with nerve gas when the tanks blow! Strike Team C will hit the communications, while Strike Teams D will hit the enemy barracks while Strike Team E will hit the tank park. Do you all understand!

�Sir yes sir!� the soldiers responded.

�Good! Our fighters have already pounded the Zimbabwean air bases and the major troop concentrations and transport facilities near this base! That means, the enemy will not be reinforced. I�ll be dropping with Strike Team B on the nerve gas storage facilities.� He looked at a GPS screen attached to his wrist. �We�re over the target now. The pilot should be opening the drop doors and we�ll be on our way. Strike Team A, get ready!�

Strike Team A moved quickly towards the rear doors of the transport. Their chemical weapons gear slowed them down a little, but not much. They all looked vaguely insect-like with their gas masks, and under their uniforms, they wore containment suits that blocked out all contaminants. Due to advances in technology, containment suits were a lot less bulky and it was easier to move in them. The big door to the rear of the plane ground open and the members of Strike Team A leaped out into the night sky.

�We�re next!� Captain van Hets said to the members of Strike Team B. �I�m leaving Lieutenant Rohatgi in charge! He�ll be dropping with Strike Team E on the enemy tanks!�

Along with the rest of his squad, Sergeant Jan Visser made his way towards the open cargo doors. He checked the ammunition in his AK-47; the rebel leaders had armed the commandos with the Communists� main weapon so they could take ammunition from the enemy corpses and keep moving throughout the enemy territory. They should be jumping any minute over the enemy nerve gas tanks.

�Jump!� Captain van Hets roared as he hurled himself out of the open cargo door. Behind him, Sergeant Visser and the rest of Strike Team B went airborne. The wind whistled around them as they dropped towards the Communist base. After a few seconds, Captain Visser pulled the ripcord and his chute opened. He floated down towards the Zimbabwean base, weapon at ready.

After a minute or so, he hit the ground. He could hear the snarls of AK-47s in the distance, indicating that the battle had begun. He shrugged out of his parachute and looked around, alert for the enemy. There weren�t any there, yet. To his right lay the massive tanks that stored the nerve gas until it was needed for shipment. Two members of Strike Team B were already skulking around the tanks, hoping to clear out the Zimbabwean troops who would interfere with their attempts to destroy it.

�Sergeant Visser!� Captain van Hets called from some distance away. �Attach your charges to the tank and set your detonators to six and a half minutes. Some charges are already set and are counting down!�

�Yes sir!� Sergeant Visser said. He unhooked one of the plastique charges attached to his belt and jammed it onto the tank. Then, he jammed the detonator in and set it for six and a half minutes. Then he walked over to another spot exactly twenty-five feet away and affixed another detonator, setting it for six minutes and twenty seconds. The sounds of gunfire were getting closer now, indicating that the Zimbabwean commanders had figured out why the South Africans were there and were sending troops to stop it.

�Captain van Hets!� Sergeant Visser called out. �Is there any way to set them off early, in case the enemy has people who could take bombs off the tanks and defuse them, sir?�

�There�s a backup remote control that could set off the bombs,� Captain van Hets said. �I�ve got it!�

Gunfire sounded close by. �I think we may need it, sir.�

�Hold the Communists off and we won�t,� Captain van Hets said. The Captain raised his AK-47 and fired, indicating that some of the enemies were getting close. Sergeant Visser made his way over to another tank and set the explosives for six minutes exactly. If he�d timed it right, all three bombs would go off at once, ripping open the storage tanks and flooding the area with nerve gas. He hoped that the chemical weapons gear held up.

Suddenly, Captain van Hets went down, shot in the stomach and chest by an AK-47 burst. Two Zimbabwean soldiers armed with AK-47s swooped in from behind an outbuilding. One of them covered another while he searched through Captain van Hets, looking for something. Captain van Hets was still alive and kicking, however. Knowing the AK-47 would be difficult to use in close-quarters combat, he pushed it aside and seized the long knife that the Volkssturm soldiers were always equipped with. He then jammed it into the enemy soldier�s chest, killing him instantly. The other Zimbabwean reacted and aimed his rifle at Captain van Hets�s face, planning to finish him off.

Sergeant Visser fired his AK-47, taking the second Zimbabwean�s head off. He then rushed over to his fallen Captain.

�Sergeant,� Captain van Hets said weakly. �I don�t think I�m going to live through this.�

�Don�t say that,� Captain Visser said.

�Here�s the remote-controlled detonator,� the Captain said, withdrawing a remote control from a pocket in his pants. �If it looks like we�re going to be overrun before that thing blows, set off the explosives. Most of them are set anyway.� He handed the detonator to Sergeant Visser. �Keep it safe,� he whispered. Then he closed his eyes and was gone.

�Damn it!� Sergeant Visser roared. Then, after a minute. �Godspeed, Captain.� He took the Captain�s ammunition and weapon and set off to finish the job. He had two explosives left and time was running out. He set the fourth explosive on a point exactly twenty five feet from the explosive he had put on the second tank. He set this one for five minutes. He then made his way over to the last tank in the area and affixed the last explosive to it. He set this one for four minutes and forty-five seconds.

�All right,� Sergeant Visser said to himself. �Now all I�ve got to do is make sure that the others are protected.� He climbed up on the top of the nerve gas tank and looked over the fortress. What he saw was not very pleasant.

Fires burned all over the Zimbabwean base. Smoke was billowing from an area about three hundred yards from the tank park, and Captain Visser could see several wrecked vehicles nearby. �Obviously Strike Team E has gotten their job done with.� The wrecked vehicles blocked the entrance to the tank park, making it hard for them to get armor out. Gunfire echoed all over the base, indicating that the battle was far from over.

Suddenly, there was a massive roar and a huge fireball rose from another corner of the base. Two more explosions sounded in quick succession, filling the sky with fire and smoke. The few lights in the base that were still on went completely dark. The planners were ready for this, since all of the South African rebel commandos� gas masks had night vision goggles built into them.

Sergeant Visser saw four Zimbabwean soldiers moving towards the nerve gas tanks. He lowered his AK-47 and started shooting. The four enemies were out in the open and there was no cover. Three of them went down quickly, but the fourth soldier raised his AK-47 and fired at Sergeant Visser. Four bullets ricocheted off the tank and Sergeant Visser rolled to avoid them. In avoiding them, however, he rolled off the tank and onto the ground. The Zimbabwean targeted him with the AK-47 but then�

An AK-47 burst sounded in the distance and the man went down. Sergeant Visser looked up to see two South African commandos moving across the open ground, apparently in pursuit of the Zimbabweans. Sergeant Visser gave them the thumbs-up and they returned it. He climbed to his feet and checked the timer on the detonator that Captain van Hets had given to him. There were only two and half minutes before the detonation. He looked around. None of the other members of Strike Team B were within sight. He moved around the tank, weapons at ready. Two members of the team lay dead on the other side of the tank, along with a Zimbabwean. Two more of the enemy were searching the area for the rest of the team. Sergeant Visser checked the timer again. Two minutes until detonation. If he lingered around here, the explosion would kill him, the Zimbabweans, and any other members of Strike Team B that were hanging around.

Sergeant Visser raised his rifle and set it to full automatic. The two Zimbabweans were very close, so the inherent inaccuracy of full-auto fire wouldn�t really matter. He squeezed the trigger.

Eight rounds flew out of the barrel in quick succession, ripping into the Zimbabweans. Both went down. Sergeant Visser checked the timer again. One minute and forty five seconds to detonation. The South African crept along the side of the tank, weapon at ready. He couldn�t see any of the other team members in the area. There were six soldiers, not counting van Hets, in the Strike Team. Two were dead and he was here, so that was three not accounted for. He crept around the other end of the tank. He saw two other South African commandos moving away from the tank towards an area where the Zimbabwean troops were making a stand. Sergeant Visser recognized them as members of Strike Team B. That left one missing. Sergeant Visser checked the timer on the detonator. One minute until detonation.

�Time to run,� Sergeant Visser said. He started running, trying to get away from the rigged tanks before they exploded. He got about a hundred yards away, in the open territory, and checked the detonator. Forty seconds until detonation. He looked around for cover. Never spend too much time in the open on a battlefield, his training told him. It�s a good recipe for getting killed.

There was a roar near the wrecked vehicle park and a Soviet-built T-72 tank muscled aside the wrecks of two smaller vehicles and moved out into the open area. Sergeant Visser groaned. �Not another episode of infantry versus tank,� he said, remembering the skirmish outside of Cape Town. He moved away from the tank, trying to take shelter inside a substantial-looking building that lay to his right. Thirty seconds until detonation.

Whoever was driving the tank saw him and the vehicle began lumbering towards him. Someone left the turret and got hold of the machine gun that was built into the vehicle. Sergeant Visser dove to the side, firing his AK-47 at them. A few rounds left the magazine, then it clicked empty. He ejected the clip and fished about his belt for another. All but one bullet missed the Zimbabwean tanker, and the one that did hit him apparently didn�t hurt him too badly. The soldier, knocked off balance momentarily, got hold of his gun again and began aiming at Sergeant Visser. The Sergeant rolled to the side. Fifteen seconds until detonation. The building was only about forty feet away. He looked to the nerve gas storage tanks and then looked to the T-72. The vehicle was driving him back towards the nerve gas tanks! The tank commander must figure that if I don�t get machine-gunned, the shrapnel from the explosion will kill me. Seven seconds until detonation.

Time slowed to a crawl. Sergeant Visser shifted to the side as the gunner let loose a roaring burst from the machine gun at him. Bullets scored the concrete around him. Sergeant Visser crammed another clip into the gun and aimed it at the Zimbabwean gunner. Two seconds until detonation. One second until detonation. Sergeant Visser lunged forward, hoping to put as much distance between himself and the shrapnel as possible. If one piece ripped open his chemical weapons suit, it would leave him vulnerable to the escaping nerve gas.

Behind him, the tanks exploded with a roar. Thousands of gallons of nerve gas were released into the African night. The tank gunner had covered his eyes to avoid looking at the detonation and Sergeant Visser used the opportunity to climb to his feet and run away. He wanted to be as far from the nerve gas as possible while it blanketed the base in convulsive death.

The Zimbabwean screamed and Sergeant Visser looked to him. The gas must have gotten to him already. He was shaking and convulsing, breaking his own bones. The gas, heavier than air, was sinking into the open tank hatch and killing the crew. Screams echoed from inside the T-72 and for a moment, Sergeant Visser saw the gunner�s face.

The face�

Captain Visser sat bolt upright on the sofa in Logan�s living room, eyes wide. He had just suffered another flashback to the Third Boer War, something that occasionally happened to him. He exhaled. The war had been over for seven years and the rebuilding in South Africa and Zimbabwe was finished. He lay back down and closed his eyes, hoping for sleep. The dreams were coming less and less often now, thank the most merciful God. In most cases, he could sleep right through the flashbacks to the carnage on the veldt and, like dreams have a tendency to do, the images and subjects would change and he would cease to toss and turn, mumbling to himself.

However, for the first time in months, he�d had a vision of the really nasty business of the use of weapons of mass destruction. That had actually happened quite a bit during the Third Boer War, the first use of poison gas and/or nuclear weapons on the African continent. The rebels had found the six nuclear weapons built by the apartheid regime, hidden in a bunker near the border with Namibia during a very dangerous commando raid hundreds of miles behind enemy lines. The weapons had apparently been forgotten by most everyone except certain factions in the government who had most likely disobeyed Mandela�s orders to dismantle the weapons and had instead hidden them in the highveld, claiming to have destroyed them. The Soke government had prepped two of those weapons for use, most likely against rebel-held Cape Town and Pretoria, two of the country�s three capitals. The two active weapons were sent via ship to Taiwan, to help the embattled Nationalists defeat the Communist forces moving to invade. The rebels had tinkered with the four others, trying to activate them

Deprived of his nukes, the Communist dictator Michael Soke instead used nerve gas, supplied by the North Korean government. Zimbabwean dictator and fellow Marxist Roberto Mugabe, who dealt with the North Koreans in the past, was the middleman in the deal. In the first major attack using the nerve gas, the rebel forces advancing on the Calvinia-De Aar defensive line were crushed and Soke�s forces used the gap in the rebel lines to advance and besiege Cape Town. Then things got really bad and Captain Visser didn�t want to think about what happened next�

Captain Visser tossed and turned for the next few minutes, trying unsuccessfully to sleep. He couldn�t. He decided to occupy himself by reading for a few minutes, since turning the TV on would most likely wake up Logan, Lydecker, or the other Reds. He climbed up from the sofa and walked over to the expansive bookcase that sat on the far end of the living room. Logan must be a voracious reader, Captain Visser thought, because he had all sorts of books in the case. They were organized on separate shelves by genre and each shelf was labeled.

He first looked at the shelf labeled �Science Fiction.� Logan had several books there, including all three Timeline Wars books by John Barnes, S.M. Stirling�s The Domination, Drakon, and Unto Us a Child, and the more recent Across the Endless Void by Jonas McLaughlin. There were also a few Star Wars and Star Trek books from the 1990s that would most likely be collector�s items. He looked down to the shelf below that, one labeled �Religion.� There was a copy of the New King James Version of the Bible and C.S. Lewis�s The Weight of Glory. Next to that was an older book called Chi Factor that looked like it hadn�t been read in awhile.

Below the �Religion� shelf was �History� and that section was full of books. Captain Visser spotted Carnage on the Highveld: The Third Boer War and wondered if they mentioned him in it. Next to that was The Golan War of 2009: A Study and next to that was Chiang Kai-Shek�s Revenge: The Pacific War and its Consequences. Moving away from recent wars, there was Alexander II and the Modernization of Russia by W.E. Mosse, The Collapse of the Ottoman Empire, and Charlemagne: A Life. There were also a couple of �alternate� history books, including What If?, a book about alternate decisions of World War II, and a very old book entitled The Third World War: August 1985, by NATO General Sir John Hackett. There were many other books on the shelf, but those were the ones that stood out. Below the �History� shelf lay �Sociology.� Captain Visser looked at that and noticed a lot of books that had hard-to-understand academic-sounding titles, as well as Elliott Johnson�s Class Structure in Post-Pulse America. That one looked more interesting.

Captain Visser could read very quickly, so he took Class Structure, the Bible, and Alexander II and the Modernization of Russia over to the coffee table and set them down. He opened Class Structure and Alexander II to page one, and opened the Bible to 1 Corinthians 3:1. Then, he started reading. At first, he read a few pages of Alexander II and stopped at page 17 where the author was describing the infamous military levies. Then he read the prologue of Class Structure and got halfway through Chapter One, which documented the rioting and chaos of the 2009-2013 Lawless Times that nearly led to the fragmentation of the United States. Next he got to the Bible and read to 1 Corinthians 5:3. 

Master Bedroom, Logan�s Penthouse, 2:17 AM 

Thirsty, Logan awoke. He slipped quietly out of his bed to avoid waking up Lydecker, who slept in the guest bed next to his, or the Red who slept on the floor in an old sleeping bag from when Logan was a Boy Scout many years before. He padded out of the door towards the kitchen. He passed by Captain Visser, who was reading three of Logan�s books at the same time, though he was focusing on Alexander II and the Modernization of Russia, and apparently reading them very quickly. Captain Visser did not look up when Logan passed and Logan decided to wait until he had gotten water first. 

Kitchen, Logan�s Penthouse, 2:19 AM 

Logan finished his second glass of water and took a minute to look out over the city. The city still glowed, even at 2:19 in the morning. The noise of traffic was minimal, since a lot of cars were wrecked by the Pulse or in the Lawless Times that followed and few were built locally or imported these days. He knew that Max was out there in the dilapidated apartment she shared with Original Cindy and, temporarily, with the Red Alex Metje. Also out there was Dr. Renfro and the hounds of Manticore that even then threatened the woman he loved and her �family.� He left the kitchen and headed for the living room. 

Living Room, Logan�s Penthouse, 2:20 AM 

�Trouble sleeping?� Logan asked Captain Visser. The Captain looked up from Class Structure and nodded. �While you were occupied, Max told me about that episode on the way here, how you tossed and turned in your sleep and mumbled. She said you were dreaming of a battle years ago.�

�Aye,� Captain Visser replied, putting his book aside. �I usually don�t dream of the war anymore and the few dreams I do have these days usually don�t wake me up. Tonight�s rerun, however, was a real monster. I was part of a raid on a nerve gas storage facility in Zimbabwe and I remembered the moment the tanks blew, covering the entire area in sarin.�

�I remember that too,� Logan said, walking over to the bookshelf and removing Carnage on the Highveld. He flipped to a page and turned it towards Captain Visser. The page described the raid on the Zimbabwean gas storage facility and was illustrated. It showed a picture of a dead man, his face twisted in the paroxysm of death by nerve gas. Captain Visser winced.

�The attack on the facility was made so things like that couldn�t happen to my people, or for that matter, others� Captain Visser said, a touch of indignation and old pain in his voice. �The fact that the gas killed a lot of the people who used the gas, inflicting the same death on them that they inflicted on my comrades, showed that rough justice was done. Cold comfort, though. Revenge didn�t bring back my friends who broke their own bones and died screaming at the Calvinia-De Aar line or the second siege of Cape Town.� He gestured and Logan turned the page, hiding the corpse�s photograph.

�I�m not disputing the military necessity of taking that base out,� Logan said. �However, there have been questions raised about the Third Boer War, as it is commonly known. Why, for example, a sizable portion of the rebel forces turned out to be closet white supremacists who tried to restore apartheid as soon as the last of the government forces surrendered?�

Captain Visser narrowed his eyes, becoming defensive. �The Hell Guards, as the people who later turned on their comrades to reinstate racial oppression liked to call themselves, did not represent the majority of the Afrikaner Volkssturm, or, for that matter, the rebellion in general. As I recall, the Hell Guards massacred dozens of black political leaders in the city of Durban. Next, they hijacked one of the three remaining nuclear weapons and ran for Witwatersrand, hoping to hold the gold fields and diamond mines hostage to force all South Africa to submit to their racist madness. Our Inkatha Freedom Party allies intercepted them at Blood River and we had a little historical reversal.�

�Historical reversal?� Logan asked. �As you know, I�m interested in history.�

Captain Visser half-smiled. �As I am. Well, in the First Battle of the Blood River, in the 19^th Century, my Voortrekker ancestors defeated the Zulus and established claim to the area that became the two Boer Republics. Some of their descendants went on to establish apartheid and embarrass South Africa in the eyes of the world. In the Second Battle of the Blood River, the predominately-Zulu forces of the Inkatha Freedom Party obliterated the racist die-hards who wished to re-establish apartheid. The fighting was so ferocious that the Blood River was true to its name, if you get my drift. Sounds remarkably like the Yin and Yang principle common in the Far East.�

�You sound remarkably like my ex-wife,� Logan said wryly.

�I take it Chi Factor was hers,� Captain Visser replied. �It looks like it hadn�t been read in awhile.� There was an ominous pause; apparently Logan didn�t want to discuss it further. Captain Visser decided to change the subject. �Now, where were we?�

�The war,� Logan said. �The Inkatha forces defeated the Hell Guards at Blood River.�

Captain Visser continued. �Once the Hell Guards were defeated, we had a massive task of rebuilding. There was hunger throughout the land, the war had displaced millions of people, and our economy was in ruins. The country was at the edge of an abyss.�

�Lenin,� Logan commented. �Funny, one of the South African government�s main policies is to oppose Communism and here you are quoting the father of Communist totalitarianism and the founder of the Soviet Union.�

�The situation that Russia was in after the war between the Reds and the Whites a century ago was much like the situation South African was in around 2012. The leaders of the provisional government decided that it would be a good idea to get the mines going again. Remember, this was just after the Pulse and the world was in recession. Paper money was worthless and the price of gold was skyrocketing as governments tried to stabilize their currencies and the average man on the street wanted to stay fed. An influx of capital would enable us to rebuild our nation and the gold was the fastest way.

�The leaders approached the mine owners and they figured out a profit-sharing arrangement designed to get people back to work. People work best when it�s in their self-interest, one of the laws of economics. Since many of the mines were wrecked and few people were working in the others, the owners were losing money and in dire straits themselves. They agreed to allow those who worked the mines to keep a percentage of the gold they mined. This attracted huge numbers of people and provided incentive for them to work even harder to maximize their personal stake. We began exporting gold again and that brought a flood of money. The income of the miners tripled and the country was saved from total economic collapse. Foreign investors came, hoping to rebuild the wrecked infrastructure and industries and get a share of the money we were making. Many of those who had left the country during the crime waves of the late 1990s also came back. Since many had gone to America and the country was in the grip of the Lawless Times, it wasn�t hard luring them home. Most still had some desire to come back to their native land as well. Soon, things were better. There was peace and prosperity again, something lacking during the war and the Communist dictatorship of Michael Soke from 2003-2012, as well as the later stages of the democratic government.

�Pity. Mandela and Mbeki meant well. Too bad the crime explosion drove out the talented people of all races, leading to the economic collapse. Then, Soke showed up and rose to power as dictators typically do. As the economy got worse, his regime got worse too. He assassinated the man who ran against him in 2006, Enfield van Dugens, and then declared martial law. Next came the forcible disarmament of his opponents, the bloody land reform campaign that drove farmers off the lands their families had farmed for centuries, and full-scale ethnic cleansing of whites and Zulus in some parts of the country. Then Soke got the country in bed with the Chinese in the Pacific War.�

�Another one of my books,� Logan commented. �Did you read that too?�

Captain Visser shook his head. �The Third Boer War was a subsidiary of the Pacific War. Soke used the South African Navy to cut off the oil tanker route around the Cape while the Chinese troops in Sudan, where they were supposedly guarding Chinese-owned oil fields, invaded Egypt and seized the Suez Canal. They hoped to use oil as a bargaining chip to persuade the Western nations to cease their support of the Japanese, Taiwanese, Filipino, and South Korean victims of Communist aggression. Although the Volkssturm militias, formed primarily to protect Afrikaner farmers during the land reform campaign, and the Inkatha Freedom Party, which was threatened by Soke�s anti-Zulu policies and had friction with the rulers in the past, had skirmished with the government before, the rebellion went into high gear when the Pacific War began. Sympathizers in the navy mutinied and challenged the loyalist forces blocking the Cape route while rebel squads within the city seized Table Mountain just outside Cape Town and used the big guns there to pound the loyalists from the land. That enabled many of the oil tankers the fleet had held up to make it to safety in the South Atlantic.�

�Then came the First Battle of Cape Town,� Logan said. �Max told me that was your dream.�

�Yes,� Captain Visser replied. �I was part of the forces that seized Table Mountain, but the C.O. transferred me to another Volkssturm unit outside Cape Town while we still had control of the land access routes into the city. Then the government forces moved between the rebels in the city and the countryside and we had to break through the heavy defense the government had set up. Nasty, nasty business. Then we got into house-to-house fighting in the city itself. Leveled half the place by the time we were done. War is hell, you know that?�

Logan nodded. �It got worse when the nukes and the gas were used.�

�When we found the six nuclear weapons that were supposed to have been dismantled, two were prepped for use. This was in government-held territory and we suspected that Soke was so desperate, he�d destroy rebel-held Pretoria and Cape Town, two of our three capitals. Besides Soke, the cause of our nation�s travails was the Communists in Beijing, so we smuggled the two active ones to Taiwan. The strikes on Quemoy and the rail junction in southern China saved Taiwan from invasion and made it possible for the Taiwanese forces to land on the southern mainland coast, seize a batch of nuclear-tipped medium-range ballistic missiles, and pound Beijing and Manchuria with nuclear weapons. That caused the economic collapse of the nation and led the surviving leaders to sue for peace. Within six weeks of the January 10^th Taiwanese attack on northern China, the Pacific War was over. The war in South Africa went on. The rebel forces held about two-thirds of the country at this point, with the government forces still in charge of the northwestern third and the coastal regions south of Namibia.�

�The nerve gas, it turns out, was sent by North Korea,� Logan said.

�Yep,� Captain Visser said. �The rebellion in South Africa was fundamentally an attack on the Communists who had subverted the democratic government and were ruling by violence. The Communist regime, however, was essential to the success of the Chinese and North Korean efforts in the Pacific. They decided that the �counterrevolutionary� forces in South Africa needed to be crushed and due to the dire straits the government was in, they sent their mutual ally Roberto Mugabe in Zimbabwe, a fellow Marxist, a lot of nerve gas. He sent Soke, his �fraternal socialist brother,� most of it, saving some for his own use.� He frowned. �Then things got a whole lot worse.

�The rebel force sent to break the Calvinia-De Aar lines the loyalist forces had set up in the northwest and to seize the railroads was obliterated. Twelve thousand killed and the loyalist counteroffensive that ended in carnage of the Second Battle of Cape Town began. The house-to-house fighting in that wrecked what part of the city the first battle didn�t. We managed to drive their forces out of the city and, while they were outside of the city proper, airburst one of our nuclear bombs over them. Our people had been trying to get around the code system necessary to activate one of the bombs and had only managed to break it just in time. The bulk of the forces that Soke put into the drive towards Cape Town and the southern region was obliterated. Our forces pushed into the government-held territory from Pretoria and Jo�burg and up around the irradiated territory outside Cape Town. Within two months, the government forces had either surrendered or were reduced to banditry and guerrilla warfare out in the wasteland. We still hadn�t gotten all of them yet.�

�Then came the Johannesburg Trials,� Logan said. �Nuremberg, only south of the Equator.�

�Yep,� Captain Visser said. �All sorts of nasty stuff went on during the Third Boer War. We had the survivors of the Hell Guards and masterminds of the Durban Massacre, to start with. There were also the leaders of the ethnic cleansing of whites and Zulus that immediately preceded the Pacific War, the commanders of the Communist secret police that, although their existence was brief, killed 25,000 political dissidents, and the architects of the brutal land reform campaign also known as the Farm Terror. Criminal elements with the covert support of certain government officials had been engaging in terrorist attacks on the farms since the late 1990s, with the aim of �persuading� farmers to sell land at low prices. However, it was only after Soke�s rise that the police power of the government was put to taking over the farms and giving chunks away to the ruler�s favorites. We got the leaders of the government program and those officials who turned a blind eye to the farm raids that occurred before Soke�s takeover.

�We made very thorough investigations of everything and everyone involved and put those responsible on trial. Some on both sides were given amnesty, like during the Truth and Reconciliation Committee hearings of the mid-to-late 1990s. Those who committed very, very grave crimes were executed. However, we had made the discovery of a certain program that Soke�s regime was undertaking that we decided to take over ourselves. It was called the Red program.�

�You made deals with some of the convicted war criminals?� Logan asked. �They�d become super-soldiers who�d burn out in exchange for avoiding execution?�

�Better to die later than sooner,� Captain Visser said, shrugging. �Besides, it put them to some constructive purpose other than breaking rocks alongside trouble-making lesser offenders to sell gravel. Even after we ran through the first batch of war criminals willing to swallow their pride and do something for their country before dying, there were the usual run of murderers to deal with.�

Captain Visser yawned. �Ah, I�m getting tired again. Should we continue our talk tomorrow or what?�

Logan yawned a minute later. �Yawning is contagious, isn�t it? Sounds agreeable to me.� He turned and sauntered off to bed while Captain Visser put the books back on the shelf. He made a mental note to pick up where he left off before he climbed back on the sofa and closed his eyes. 

Manticore Barracks, 5:30 AM (Mountain Time) 

The collective alarm went off and all of the X-5s loyal to the government rose from their beds for a day of training or fighting. All except two.

Brin still lay there, still recovering from the wounds sustained 48 hours before. Her body had expelled the bullets, but the damage they had done would require more time to repair. Her back and legs were bandaged. Zack also lay on his bunk, feverish. The DNA-altering virus was working its way through his system, repairing the genetic flaw, but it still had some work to do. The doctors had told him it would take 36 hours for it to completely repair his physiology, and it had only taken effect 20 hours ago. Sixteen hours to go.

As he lay there, images swirled through his fevered mind. Occasionally, he made the effort of blinking them away. However, most of the time he didn�t bother.

It was back in the days before they had fled Manticore. They were all nestled all snug in their beds when all of a sudden, there was scratching at the door. Above the ceiling tiles and in the vents in the walls, strange noises were heard.

�The Anomalies are here!� Ben said fearfully. At the sound of their name, the creatures outside the door, in the walls, and in the ceiling burst out, hissing and roaring. Like the Infernal Host of Dante, the horde was hideous to behold. Deformed monsters with too many limbs, human-like creatures with the minds of animals, and things too hideous to describe came at them. Claws and fangs flashed in the night as the deformed failures fell upon the successes.

One especially hideous Anomaly fell upon Zack, slashing at him with a toothed tongue. The creature�s three crimson eyes glowed like the fires of hell. All of a sudden, it changed. Its face liquefied and changed to that of Logan Cale.

�Hello Zack,� it said in Logan�s voice. �Max is mine, and I�ll just have to kill all the competition.� Then, Logan opened his mouth and revealed a hideous set of inhuman teeth. He sunk those into Zack�s throat and X-5/599 screamed, a nasty bubbling sound quickly cut short. As Zack�s vision began to dim, he saw Lydecker standing over him.

�That�s not good, X-5/599. I thought I trained you better than that.� The Colonel shook his head and walked away. Logan loomed over him, mouth open again. Max was screaming inside Logan�s mouth, her hands clutching the fangs as though they were prison bars� 

Zack came back to full consciousness with a series of screaming gasps.

�What are you dreaming about, X-5/599?� Brin asked. �Doesn�t look fun to me.�

�The Anomalies, Brin. They�ve got Max and I have to save her.�

�We have to save her, you mean,� Brin said. �We have to save her from herself, and from those who have corrupted her.�

Zack frowned. He thought that Dr. Renfro had meant this as his exclusive duty. Then, he realized that since he had been the leader at Manticore before the escape and helped keep the X-5s alive during their time as prodigals, perhaps she meant for him to be the leader again. He would lead the others in a mission to rescue their �sister� from their evil trainer and Logan, if the man was involved. 

Dr. Renfro�s Office, 7:30 AM (Mountain Time) 

�What the hell!� Dr. Renfro screamed at the laptop. �Where is it?� She ran a file search again, but couldn�t find the file called dronespecs.bps. The blueprints for the armed hover-drone were gone. �Deck, you clever little psycho!� she hissed under her breath. �You evil, clever nut!� She calmed down somewhat, using breathing-control exercises to restore lucidity.

�Well,� Dr. Renfro said, smiling. �Maybe it�s still on the computer network here.� She typed in some commands and linked the laptop to the Manticore network. Once the connection was secure, she initiated a search of the entire network. Manticore�s network was huge and searching the whole thing would take a few minutes. As the search began, she got up and heading for the coffee urn.

After a few minutes and two espressos, she came back. The first thing she saw on the screen was �Search Complete�. She grinned and scrolled down. As she did that, her grin faded.

�NO!� she screamed again. Beneath �Search Complete� it said �File Not Found.� Lydecker had not only erased it from her personal computer somehow, but from the entire Manticore network. To top it off, the only armed hover-drone they had somehow vanished before Lydecker�s escape. Not only had the Colonel erased all the plans for the vehicle, but he either captured or destroyed the second one, the last one in existence.

There was a knock on the door. �Excuse me, Dr. Renfro, is there something wrong? We heard screaming.� It was Hamilton, her aide. An insufferably decent, kind man, not the sort who one would expect to find at Manticore.

�No,� she said sweetly. �Just some computer problems.�

�Oh good,� Hamilton said. �Sorry to bother you.�

�Oh that�s all right,� Renfro said. She listened to him walk away and then she swore mightily for a couple of minutes. Lydecker had outwitted her again and that really got on her nerves! 

An Apartment, New York City, 10:30 AM (Eastern Time) 

The cell phone rang and Vladimir Ushenko picked it up with a groan. He was still suffering jet lag from the flight from St. Petersburg to New York and he would have appreciated some sleep. This particular call was probably important though. It was from a secured cell phone linking him to the Deathstalker controllers in their bunker underneath Moscow.

�Da? Who is this?�

�This is Colonel Mikhail Sutshkov, your controller. Where are you?�

�New York,� Ushenko groaned. �What do you want?�

�Do you know that the Americanski have a program similar to ours? And the supposedly secret compound it has been based at has been raided twice within the last forty hours, da? According to some of our sources, the program�s genetics lab has been totaled and many of their special projects are dead. We want you to pick up the pieces.�

�How so? Do you want a third raid on that complex?�

�No. Soldiers and tanks surround the place now and even for one such as you, it would be suicide. Nyet, we would not throw away one of our best Deathstalkers on such a foolhardy mission.�

�Then what would you like me to do?�

�Go to Seattle. You see, there were escapes from the project years before and the escapees have grown up. Some of them have been reported there recently. There�s also a sizable Russian expatriate community and some Russian gangs. With the expatriates, act as though you are a fellow immigrant who needs help. With the gangs, be more forceful. Mobsters can�t just run to the police, can they? Some of them have links with our government and we can use that too. You can find the gangs at an �Odessa Social Club;� one of them is a GRU [Russian military intelligence] agent. I want you to find one of the X-5s and procure a genetics sample. One of our agents in New York can give sampling equipment to you. Blood, skin, hair; hell, rip off one of their arms if need be! We�ll pick up the pieces of this �Project Manticore�. We have an olfactory print of a common scent element the X-5s as they call them have. I don�t know how we got the print without the genetic sample, but it�ll help you out some. Our agent has it too.�

�Where do I meet him?�

�Central Park, near the entrance. The password is �Volga caviar is rare and expensive,� and his response will be �Yes, but it�s damn good.� He�ll give you everything you�ll need.�

�Is that it?�

�Yes, but there�s one more thing. We don�t want our presence known here. The American rulers are suspicious of Zhrinovosky, our glorious leader, and have accelerated Russian warriors raising hell in one of their biggest cities will make things worse between the rodina and America. Do you understand? I want this to be a clean in-and-out; even though I said you could rip an X-5�s arm off if necessary to get the genetic samples, I want that to be the last resort.�

�I understand, sir. When do I meet the agent?�

�He�ll be there from 1:00 PM to 3:00 PM today and from 1:00 PM to 3:00 PM tomorrow. The Premier wants this done immediately; more and different augmented warriors will aid our glorious crusade to the oil fields of the Mohammedans even easier for the valiant warriors of our people!�

Ushenko suppressed a groan. Under Zhrinovosky, prejudice towards Muslims was the big thing again (use of the term �Mohammedan� is considered insulting) and everyone was still obsessed with his mad plan to seize the oil fields of the Middle East and use them to dominate the world. Dealing with Iran alone would cause the narod much trouble, since the country possessed hundreds of ballistic missiles capable of striking targets all over Russia with nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons. The recently-absorbed nations of Ukraine and Belarus would revolt if Russia was injured that way, adding to his nation�s grief. If Iran wasn�t too big to swallow, then the Israelis, many of them former Russians with memories of pogroms and persecution fresh in their minds, would strike an equally dangerous blow. An F-16 with nuclear weapons could one-way it to Moscow and even non-suicidal attacks would leave the Ukraine, historically Russia�s breadbasket, a glowing ruin.

�Is that it, sir?� Ushenko asked.

�Yes it is. Soon, we will rule!� We will rule was the unofficial motto of Zhrinovosky�s associates, describing their future world domination. Even though Zhrinovosky was an old man and likely to die soon, his followers were fanatical. His controller hung up. Ushenko rose to his feet and flexed his cybernetically-augmented muscles and inhaled through his nose. The smells of food cooking down the hall reached him and his mouth watered. That reminded him that he hadn�t eaten in awhile. 

Jam Pony X-Press, 8:00 AM (Pacific Time) 

�Well welcome back,� Normal said sarcastically as Max, Original Cindy, and Metje entered. As per Captain Visser�s orders not to draw attention, he had left his Uzi at the apartment and had borrowed Original Cindy�s pistol instead. Max�s roommate had assented, on the condition that if the pistol was lost, she�d keep the Uzi. �You�ve been absent for four working days, and did you know that the increased load is stressing out the other messengers? I can�t run a business with tired messengers, you know!�

�Normal, didn�t you tell me to �take a week� some time ago?� Max asked.

�Well, yes, when you for some strange reason started hitting on me. But still��

�Then consider the personal week shortened by four days,� Original Cindy said.

�Don�t get involved, sister,� Normal said. �You�re still on parole from that time you came crawling back from being a telemarketer!�

�Strictly speaking,� Metje interrupted. �If you truly did tell her she could take a week and she was only gone for four days��

�Who asked you?� Normal asked. �I don�t even know your name!�

�My name is Alex Metje,� Metje said. �Happy?�

�Well, I know your name, but I still don�t know why you have to interrupt.�

�I�m Max�s bodyguard,� Metje replied, staring neutrally at Normal.

�Why would Max need a bodyguard?� Normal asked.

�Hey Max!� Sketchy said. Druid, Sketchy, and Herbal sauntered over, the holy trinity of off-the-wall behavior. �Where�ve you been the past four days?� He noticed Metje and stiffened, his eyes searching for a way out should it prove necessary. Metje smiled amiably at him, hoping not to scare him to death.

�See!� Druid said. �This is one of the trans-dimensional Nazis that kidnapped Max! He�s come to open a dimensional doorway and the armies of the Universal Reich will flood the world! All mankind will worship Hitler!�

�Brothers and sisters,� Herbal announced. �We don�t know who this man is or why he is here. Let us know who we deal with before we make judgements. Remember that the Most High said not to rush to judgement.�

�Excuse me,� Metje said to Druid. �What�s your name?�

�I don�t want to give your Nazi secret police a bead on me,� Druid replied.

�I know where your Nazi stuff came from. There was a series of sci-fi stories published in sci-fi magazines and an entire book set in the same �universe� published here some years before. It reminds me of an older TV show called Sliders, you know, alternate time-lines and multiple worlds. Except in Sliders, the time-lines didn�t war with each other and infiltrate other time-lines.�

�Then explain the man who could jump fifty feet at a time and wore a futuristic headset with cameras and stuff on it, then!� Druid retorted. �He was one of your agents, reconnoitering our time-line for conquest! You�re the headhunter they�ve sent to make it happen!�

Metje turned to Max. �Is he always like that?�

�No, usually he�s a lot more coherent. Most of his theories at least have some basis in reality.� Max knew that Druid�s story had some backup; the man who had the cameras and who could jump fifty feet was Phil, a rather eccentric character who had fallen in with her and Logan and had helped them against the first killer hover-drone. He had sent Logan the exoskeleton that enabled him to walk again.

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed on the TV. �This is a streaming freedom video update from Eyes Only.� Druid spun around and headed for the TV, with Sketchy and Herbal in hot pursuit. Normal and Metje exhaled in relief.

�I see you�ve met Druid,� Normal said. �He�s a major liberal if I�ve ever seen one. Wait a minute Max, where are you going?�

�One minute,� she said. �Let�s see what Eyes Only has today.�

Normal rolled his eyes. �What is it about him that attracts everyone?�

�It has come to Eyes Only�s attention that someone is spiking schoolchildren�s milk with PCP,� Logan�s computer-disguised voice said. �This is causing a rash of violence in elementary schools.� Next came some jerky camcorder footage of a small boy kicking his unconscious teacher while drooling blood. �The milk that contains the PCP is from Oregon Dairies Inc. and we have reason to suspect that someone in the bottling division has a really sick, sick sense of humor. This video is also airing in Oregon, where the dairy physically is. All parents out there, make sure that you or your children drink milk from another source until this problem is resolved, unless no other source is available.�

The video cut out.

�Whoa,� Normal said. �Feeding controlled substances to schoolchildren? That�s just sick!�

�I foresee trouble ahead for Oregon Dairies,� Metje said.

Normal turned towards Metje. �If you plan on being Max�s bodyguard around here, you�ll have to carry packages with the rest of us. Understand?�

�Perfectly.� Metje smiled. �When do I begin?�

�Right now. There�re are four packages that need to be delivered to the Little Japan district and since I know Max, and you look like a strong type, I�ll have each of you carry two. The packages are the ones over there with the Japanese calligraphy on them.�

�Excellent, sir.�

Metje walked away and Normal stared after him. �He called me �sir�,� Normal said. �The last time someone called me �sir,� he left after just one day. Does this bode ill?� 

Manticore Training Center, Midnight (Mountain Time) 

�All right,� Captain Allen Gregory said. �You think you�re ready for battle again?� The training center was a huge obstacle course complete with automated weapons firing live ammunition, land mines, and holograms.

�Yes sir,� Zack said.

�Well, Dr. Renfro thinks she might agree with you. If you can do all these things right, she�ll send you to Seattle. She still thinks you�ll need some retraining, but do this right and you�ll prove her wrong. Understood?�

�Yes sir.�

�Okay then.� Captain Gregory walked over a panel on the wall and typed in a couple of commands. He turned to Zack and spoke one word.

�Go.�

Zack leaped forward, narrowly dodging a burst of machine gun fire from a wall turret that holograms disguised as a jungle bunker. He vaulted over a spiked pommel horse and seized a broadsword from a wall. He used that to decapitate what appeared to be an enemy soldier but was really a hologram-disguised dummy that could fire an AK-47. Zack seized the AK-47 from the dummy and leaped up a ladder than run up the wall.

�Damn,� Captain Gregory said, astounded. �This is like one of those recruiting commercials for the United States Marines.�

Zack hopped off the platform at the top of the ladder and sailed through the air, firing the AK-47 at several other hologram-disguised dummies that fired back at him. One bullet narrowly missed his head. Zack landed on another platform about fifty feet from the starting point and rushed along a rope bridge. Gunfire from hologram-disguised wall guns fired at him, but he dodged all of it nimbly. He even fired back, taking out two of them. He came to the end of the bridge and the gunfire stopped. He dropped down onto the ground level, on the other side of the complex.

Suddenly, all the holographic scenery dropped away. �Now for the last test,� a frighteningly deep voice rumbled. �For your fighting pleasure, we�ve brought out one of the Anomalies.�

Both Zack and Captain Gregory gasped. The Anomalies were supposed to be locked away safely in the Manticore basement, where they couldn�t kill anyone. One of them had gotten loose a couple of years before and killed five conventional soldiers and an X-5, Captain Gregory thought; using them to train an X-5 was an insane risk. Zack�s fear of the Anomalies went much deeper. Throughout his unusual childhood, his greatest fear was of those strange creatures who dwelt in darkness and whose growls filled the night. The fact that he�d been hallucinating about the creatures for hours just recently didn�t help.

A doorway slid open on the wall and the Anomaly stepped out. This particular botched experiment was about six-and-a-half feet tall, with glowing crimson eyes. When it opened its mouth, it revealed bloody fangs. Its hands seemed human enough, except for the leonine claws on the fingers. The thing walked with a hunched-over gait and its knees were perpetually bent, making it look like it was tensing to attack. The creature wore a gray coverall that was ripped in several places, revealing inhuman muscles. There was an unusual metal item clipped to the creature�s head.

�X-5�� it hissed in a rumbling voice. �Kill�� A strange device attached to the gun hummed and a massive electric shock sent Zack stumbling backwards. He dropped the gun, and when he tried to pick it up again, it shocked him again. Apparently, Dr. Renfro wanted him to fight the beast hand-to-hand. Fight the Beast of Manticore�s Hell with his bare hands, and probably to kill the thing too. Zack looked up to see the creature advancing towards him like a nightmarish horror given flesh.

With a panther-like scream it leaped at him, claws extended and teeth ready to tear. Zack leaped out of the way, barely dodging the monster. As it staggered away from him, Zack planted a booted foot in the small of its back, sending it toppling forward. It arrested its fall and spun around, eyes glowing more so than usual.

It hissed at him, animalistic faculties apparently dominating the semi-human mind it seemed to have. The creature leaped straight up into the metallic rafters overhead and then dropped down, guiding its fall in an attempt to land on top of him. Zack leaped up to intercept the monster, striking it on the chin with a fist. The creature howled and went flying, the blow jarring its brain and making it dizzy. It crashed in a heap nearby, but bounced back, more destructive than ever.

�Must�die,� it rasped at him. It moved towards Zack, who brought his fists up in a martial-arts stance to meet the monster. However, the Anomaly had other plans. Rather than charge straight at him, it jumped to the side at the last minute and, hopping off another wall, it crashed on top of X-5/599.

The two went toppling. The Anomaly had the weight advantage, and it was all Zack could do to hold its killing claws away from him. The Anomaly drooled, like a predatory beast that sensed the slaughter was imminent.

�Eat�� it rasped. �X-5�food.�

A frission of horror washed over Zack and he shivered. It was like his drug-and-fever-induced dreams again.

�Wanna bet?� Zack asked combatively and pushed up with his foot. The two went tumbling over and Zack was on top now. The Anomaly was far from finished; it snapped its face forward to slash at Zack with its fangs and Zack dodged, barely. The creature began to push up on Zack with its arms and despite all his resistance, the X-5 felt himself rising up. He decided on a somewhat dirty trick.

He kicked the Anomaly in the groin. The creature looked male, and he expected it to have the desired effect. It did.

The Anomaly howled and it reflexively threw Zack to the side. Zack rose to his feet quickly, while the hurt Anomaly staggered to its knees. Half feeling pity for the deformed monster, Zack rushed forward and kicked it in the temple, sending it toppling to the side. He then walked up to it and pushed it sideways, onto its back. The creature slashed at him with its claws, indicating that the monster had no intentions of giving up.

Zack had a plan. The electrified AK-47 lay off to the side. Zack removed one of his boots and put it on his hand like a glove. He walked over to the weapon and, using the tip of the boot as a hook, pulled up the gun. He walked up to the monster and, with a sigh, dropped the AK-47 onto the monster�s stomach.

Evidently the shocker was still on, for the monster howled and begin thrashing about. The gun remained trapped between the creature�s legs and torso as it curled into a fetal position. The monster rolled about on the steel floor, screaming like a crazed animal in torment. Eventually, its movements dislodged the gun from its body and the weapon went clattering away. Barely breathing, the creature came to a stop.

�Very good, X-5/599,� the voice said. �Finish him!�

Zack walked over to the AK-47 and touched it with a tentative hand. The shocker was off. He put his boot back on and picked up the rifle with both hands. He aimed the weapon at the fallen Anomaly�s head and squeezed the trigger. Five rounds flew into the monster�s head and it died. Zack exhaled in relief. The horrendous battle with the Anomaly was over, as well as the nasty existence the monster led as a prisoner in the basement, trapped alone with its madness. It was almost a mercy.

�I think you�re ready,� Dr. Renfro�s voice said over the speakers. �I�m going to send you to Seattle. This will be your big chance to save Max. The others will be ready to go with you should you fail.�

�Yes!� Zack called up to the speaker. �I won�t disappoint you!� 

Entrance to Central Park, 1:01 PM (Eastern Time) 

�Volga caviar is rare and expensive,� Ushenko said.

�Yes, but it�s damned good,� the agent said. �Glory to the Motherland.�

�I see. Do you have the scent-print?�

�Ah, straight to business,� the contact said. �Very good of you. Here it is.� The contact withdrew a 3X5 card-sized piece of plastic. Ushenko brought it up to his nose and inhaled. A strange aroma reached his enhanced scent-receptors. The smell was human, with an under-scent of tiger.

�Straight to the scent,� the agent said. He smiled. �You�ll be able to find the X-5s easily enough. Do you know what to do?�

�Yes. Go to Seattle, get a genetic sample, and come back here. I�ll send it back to Russia and soon we�ll have more enhanced warriors to crush the Arab armies and assure Russia�s power for centuries. We will rule.�

�Yep. Is this it?�

�Basically. Do you know where to find sympathizers?�

�Seattle has a large Russian expatriate community,� Ushenko said. �Plus the Mafia. The Mafia folks owe the Premier some favors and I can call them; plus I can be harsh if necessary.�

�Yes. Now go.�

�Yes.�

Ushenko left the contact behind at the entrance to Central Park as he walked away. Post-Pulse New York City was somewhat dismal, with few passers-by and armored vehicles on the street corners. Lots of street hovels too, with people standing around fiery oil drums trying to keep warm. The scents of the city, both savory and unsavory, reached his nostrils. He smelled cooking food and humans, as well as the smell of excrement and decay. Sometimes having enhanced olfactory senses was a mixed blessing. 

Bauhaus Books and Coffee, Seattle, 1:50 PM 

With Metje keeping an eye on Max and other Reds guarding Logan and Lydecker, Captain Visser decided to go touring. He brought along Will Ramaphosa, a large black man with several strange tattoos on the side of his head, as a bodyguard. The orders said to lay low, so Captain Visser had borrowed some spare clothes that fit him and the Red from Logan and they left their uniforms and Uzis. Both of them had procured automatic pistols from a street vendor, so they weren�t unarmed. The only thing Captain Visser didn�t like was that they weren�t issued American paper money, only the Kruger rands. The gold was fine and good for impressing people and overpaying them as well, but it was distinctive. He had traded in some of the coins with Logan for paper money, but other South Africans doing similar work might not have those options.

Captain Visser and the Red sat at a table near a window that looked out towards the dilapidated Space Needle. Nearby lay a huge wall-sized shelf of art books that Captain Visser had looked at when they arrived. There weren�t as many books as the guidebook had implied; the impoverishing effects of the Pulse had most likely forced the owner to sell a few to stay afloat. Captain Visser sipped some very nice coffee from his traveling mug and admired the wrought-iron fixtures.

�Anything interest you, sir?� a waitress asked Ramaphosa. �Coffee, perhaps?�

�Sure,� Ramaphosa said. �The best kind you�ve got.� Since this particular Red had only two more months to live, Captain Visser decided not to make an issue of the cost. Captain Visser watched the city through the window as his compatriot sipped his coffee and made approving noises. Two news helicopters flitted through the sky in the distance, and a police hover-drone flew by. Captain Visser glared at the thing. If the US Constitution was to be taken seriously, those things were on shaky ground, legally. However, with the economic crisis and the martial law, he suspected such matters weren�t very important to people.

�Are you two finished?� the waitress said, returning with Ramaphosa�s coffee.

�I suppose so,� Captain Visser said.

�The total for all your purchases, then, is about $85.75,� the waitress said.

Captain Visser raised an eyebrow. He knew that inflation had returned to America with the Pulse after a very long absence, but this was an especially nasty case. Nearly a hundred bucks for two cups of coffee and some miscellaneous snacks? He�d expected to pay about half that. Oh well, Captain Visser thought. That�s life.

Captain Visser withdrew five twenties and handed them to the waitress. �Keep the change,� he said. Using 15% as the accepted percentage for a gratuity, he found that giving the woman a tip of $14.25 would cover it nicely.

�Thank you, sir,� the waitress said, smiling. In the depressed American economy, every little bit helped.

�What next, Captain?� Ramaphosa said, savoring the coffee. Captain Visser didn�t particularly know much about coffee or how to judge its quality, but apparently Ramaphosa was satisfied. Captain Visser made a mental note to make sure that spending small discretionary sums was okay with his superiors and to pay back the $100 he had just spent if it wasn�t. Spending other folks� money without asking was not a good idea, however, morally or financially.

�I think we should go back to Logan�s place for awhile,� the Captain said quietly. �Remember, we�re not supposed to attract attention and going around spending money and gawking at everything will most likely get us exactly that. We can go out again later.� Captain Visser kept an eye out, making sure nobody was listening. Ramaphosa and himself were the only people in the coffee shop at the moment, but one never knew. 

Logan�s Penthouse, Seattle, 2:15 PM 

�Any new developments?� Captain Visser asked as he came back in.

�Yes,� Logan said from the living room. Captain Visser noticed the man was glued to the television. It was on a local station this time; a reporter was speaking with the Space Needle in the background. �Watch.�

�Two nights ago, two soldiers were briefly knocked unconscious and one was killed in the forests outside of Seattle,� the reporter was saying. �The survivors gave a brief description of the assailant, who resembles one of the Alaskan terrorists reported at the state line earlier this week. We�re here with Colonel Alexander Burke, head of the Seattle military command.�

�We�re searching for the terrorist as we speak, Miss,� the soldier, a tall, broud-shouldered man with a goatee, said. �The city�s big, as we all know, but we�ll find her. We�ll probably find the other traitors as well.�

�Shit,� Logan said under his breath. �She�s probably gone back to her job, acting as though nothing�s happened. Shit, shit, shit. Now they�re searching the city for her!�

�Metje�s competent,� Captain Visser said. �At the first sign of trouble, he�s been ordered to go to ground with Max and eventually make his way back here. Then, he�ll retrieve his weaponry and there�ll be a real fight.�

�Perhaps I can help,� Lydecker said as he came out of the bathroom. �Some Manticore people are still loyal to me.�

�What can you do?� Logan asked.

�We�ve still got our official-looking badges that we can dissuade low-level cops with,� Lydecker rumbled. �Plus we have our weapons, knowledge of the situation, and some other things.�

�Do what you can, sir,� Captain Visser said. Logan nodded in agreement. Lydecker withdrew a cellular phone from a pocket and re-entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

�I don�t think he trusts us,� Logan said, watching his houseguest carefully.

�Deniability,� Captain Visser said. �What a man doesn�t know can�t be extracted from him with torture, endless lack of sleep, psychological manipulation, or even truth serum. This is just in case one of us is captured. I don�t think it�s a character judgement.� Captain Visser stepped away and got his Uzi. �I�m going to go look for Max. Sit tight.� 

Bathroom, Logan�s Penthouse, Seattle, 2:17 PM 

The bathroom was still steamy from Lydecker�s shower and the Colonel hoped it didn�t impede phone reception. He dialed in a number and pressed the �call� button. He put the phone to his ear and waited. The phone rang and rang on the other end of the line and Lydecker hoped that the man on the other end was still alive. 

An Underground Parking Garage, Seattle, 2:18 PM 

Sergeant Kalins� cell phone rang and he answered it with a grunt. He and a few other TAC officers were clustered around a Hum-V deep within a parking garage that sat below an abandoned office building. Illumination came from a few functioning lights on the ceiling and from the ramps that led to the surface. For an abandoned building in Seattle, the place was surprisingly clean and dry. The renegades were alone. A large box sat next to the Hum-V, a box labeled �Hazardous Materials� and emblazoned with the image of Manticore�s beastly namesake.

�Code 2B,� Sergeant Kalins, a dark-eyed rogue TAC man who had joined with several others in an alliance with Lydecker, said gruffly.

�Code 5C,� Lydecker responded and Kalins relaxed. �Do you still have it?�

�Yes,� Kalins said. The �it� in question was the last of the killer hover-drones in existence; Kalins and his men had spirited it and its control equipment away from Dr. Renfro and the Manticore loyalists before their treason had been discovered. Meanwhile Lydecker and Logan, who was more than happy to help, obliterated all the copies of the blueprints held by Manticore. Lydecker and the rogues planned on using the killer drone as a trump card against the loyalists.

�Good. Now, how many of you have told the ice queen to stuff it?�

�None of us have actually confronted Renfro, sir, but we are AWOL and we�ve made off with expensive Manticore equipment. There are two non-coms, sir, including myself, and three commissioned officers. The three commissioned officers still retain the loyalty of about twelve regular soldiers, sir. Seventeen trained soldiers and one armed hover-drone to challenge one of the Executive Committee and the forces loyal to said Committee and its allies.� Sergeant Kalins grinned, his white teeth splitting his dark face. �I love long odds.�

�I love your enthusiasm, Sergeant. However, we�ve got a problem.�

�What sort of problem, sir?�

�The X-5 who calls herself Max apparently did not die during the raid on the Manticore facility. Our South African friends brought her back to Seattle. However, she�s going about like nothing�s happened, roaming about the city with her job. Have you been watching the news lately?�

�We�ve been hiding out in places that are often without electrical power, sir. We�ve heard some rumblings about Alaskan terrorists at the Washington border and possible infiltration of Seattle via the car radio, but��

�The Alaskan terrorists were really Reds, and Max is the only one who�ve they�ve gotten a good description of. The military people will be combing Seattle looking for her and I doubt she can hide for long.�

�What do you want us to do, sir?�

�Well, one of the Reds is guarding Max and others may be sent. However, in case of trouble, be prepared to intervene. You�ve still got your Manticore IDs, correct?�

�Yes sir.�

�Then, if Max or any of the Reds are captured, use them to convince these corrupt Sector bums that these people are in your jurisdiction and then spirit them away. Take them to someplace safe and call me.�

�What if they�ve invalidated our IDs?�

�The cops here are so used to �higher powers� appropriating their suspects that they�ll give in easily. If they don�t yield, use bribery or some other means that these people would be used to. However, if all else fails, be prepared to fight them.�

�Is deadly force authorized, sir?�

�Yes. Dr. Renfro and her goons would kill us given half a chance. However,� Lydecker paused, �try to keep such instances to a minimum. Our real enemy is the Committee; these people are their unwitting agents who are either interested in enforcing the law or making a buck; something tells me the latter is the higher priority.�

�Yes sir.�

�Good. I�ll contact you when necessary; you can contact me when you deem it necessary, but it better be good. Dr. Renfro might not know about you all, but she�ll pull out all the stops to kill me. Lydecker out.� 

Logan�s Penthouse, Seattle, 2:23 PM 

�My people are informed,� Lydecker said to Logan and Captain Visser. �They�ll be read to intervene.�

�What about the others?� Logan asked. �Kritt, Syl, the rest of the rogues. Where are they hiding out?�

�I don�t know,� Lydecker said. �The only one who might have some vague idea of where they are is Zack and he was captured along with Max. If Renfro manages to turn him somehow, he could give away the locations of the other X-5s and help that bitch out quite a lot.�

�Max said Zack killed himself, to provide her with a heart transplant. Self-sacrificing towards the end,� Logan said, sniffing emotionally. Lydecker exhaled in relief. �At least that woman won�t be able to get inside his head and get hold of the rest of them,� Lydecker said. �Pity that he died, though. He was the epitome of what we wanted the X-5s to be.�

Logan scowled. Lydecker was apparently still thinking inside the Manticore box, so to speak. Perhaps a lengthy separation of him from such things might improve the man, but Logan figured that would take awhile. 

A Back Street of Seattle, 2:30 PM 

A dark Hum-V drove into an alley and stopped. After a minute, Zack stepped out and stretched a bit.

�Remember,� Dr. Renfro said from the car. �Every minute you delay, Lydecker and the Anomalies inflict more horror on Max. Be strong and don�t give up, X-5/599.�

�Yes ma�am.�

�Furthermore, the extremes of the torture they�re inflicting on her may have shattered her mind and left it open to�manipulation,� Dr. Renfro continued. �She might�make that will, resist being rescued. You know, like that Patty Hearst character that we may have taught you about when we described psychological manipulation?�

�Yes ma�am.�

�In case you need backup, call in on this phone.� Renfro�s aide opened the driver�s-side window and gave Zack the phone. �Other X-5s will join you and together you all will be able to liberate Max and kill the traitor Lydecker.�

�Lydecker must die,� Zack said, voice hard as steel. �For Manticore to survive.�

�Excellent. Now go.� The aide rolled up the driver�s-side window and the Hum-V backed rapidly out of the ally. The vehicle turned and sped down the street.

�For you, Max,� Zack said. He leaped up onto the second level of a nearby fire escape, hoping to get his bearings. He�d find and check out Jam Pony first, then head for Logan�s penthouse, and then Max�s apartment. He grinned evilly at the thought of interrogating Logan. He suspected that the on-again-off-again-mobile man might have something to do with Max being brainwashed; he recalled she went against protocol more than once in the past because of him. 

Jam Pony X-Press, 2:40 PM 

�You again,� Normal called out as Zack entered. �You�re like a bad penny, you know that? You keep coming back to haunt me.� A few other messengers were roaming around and a couple took notice of Zack, who suspected that they remembered him as Sam the obsequious messenger who quit after one day.

�Quiet,� Zack growled. �Where�s X-5/�.Max, at this time?� He nearly slipped into using her code rather than her name. He inwardly swore at himself for forgetting that Max was more than a number, then wondered why he felt that way. Her code was her name, but the others might not know it. Therefore, using what outsiders knew her as would be best.

�Out on a run somewhere, with that red-haired character who insists he�s her bodyguard.�

�A bodyguard?� Zack said, raising an eyebrow.

�Yes,� Normal said. �She�s been absent for a few days, then she pops up with this guy who says he�s her bodyguard. Why do you ask?�

Zack growled again and Normal began slowly reaching for the submachine gun he had under the counter. Ever since he had been nearly murdered by those irate characters that were mad about a missing painting, he�d become worried about his personal security. While he kept an eye on Zack, his hands had closed around the gun. He felt more secure now.

�I�ll be back later,� Zack rumbled at Normal. After a minute, he stalked out of Jam Pony. The messenger crowd that was watching the proceedings gradually broke apart.

�I didn�t even have to say �bip, bip, bip,�� Normal said with astonishment. �Maybe I�m getting respect after all.� Slowly, he let go of the gun. All was well now. 

Logan�s Penthouse, 2:52 PM 

Lydecker was sitting on the sofa and reading The Stand, a rather lengthy book by the late Stephen King, when someone knocked on Logan�s door. Logan was busy at his computer, apparently checking his stocks. Lydecker had noticed that Logan was rather apprehensive about his finances; since the government�s investigation of the killer hover-drone began, Logan�s cash flow dwindled. �Who is it?� Logan called from his computer room.

Nobody answered. Suddenly, there was the sound of the doorknob being hit very hard. Logan got up and stuck his head out of the computer to see what was the matter. After an ominous pause, the door swung open to reveal Zack, looking downright malevolent. He looked the same as he did when Logan saw him last, but the change in him wasn�t physical.

�Where�s Max?� Zack growled, stepping into the room. The hobnails on the bottom of his boots grated on the hardwood floors.

�Max said you were dead,� Logan said slowly. �You don�t look very dead.�

A brief look of surprise flickered across Zack�s face before his statement hardened back into the malevolent mask. �Answer the question, Miracle Boy. Where the hell is Max?�

�We don�t know,� Logan said. �Why do you want to know?�

As Lydecker kept a careful eye on Zack, his hand was slowly moving towards the pistol in an ankle holster. He wasn�t fast enough to hit Zack when he was alert, but he hoped that Logan would distract him. Zack had been recaptured by Manticore, and if Lydecker had to guess, they�d somehow managed to brainwash him. The former chief of Manticore had Zack for weeks but couldn�t crack him�Renfro had managed to pull it off in a couple of days. What had happened?

�I know that you and Lydecker have brainwashed her,� Zack growled, sounding like a puma. �However, I�ve only been ordered to kill Lydecker. If you cooperate, I may let you live.� He stepped towards Logan threateningly.

Lydecker had his opportunity and he took it. He seized the pistol quickly and starting firing at Zack. The X-5 was too quick, however, and all the bullets hit was a painting hung on the wall.

�Damn it,� Logan said. �I was hoping to sell that!� He watched as Zack rebounded off the wall and hurtled at Lydecker. Lydecker ducked and Zack sailed overhead. The older man fired at Zack before he could turn around, but all he succeeded in doing was hitting Logan�s fireplace. The bullets ricocheted from there and dug into the walls. Zack bounced back and hit Lydecker in the face, sending him flying off the sofa and into a nearby wall.

�Sorry about that distraction,� Zack said, seeing that Lydecker had been knocked unconscious. �I think we were talking about where Max was.�

�I don�t know where Max is,� Logan said. He was starting to suspect that Zack was up to no good.

�I checked Jam Pony,� Zack said. �She wasn�t there. Is she hiding somewhere?�

Logan narrowed his eyes. �No.� The man wished that Captain Visser hadn�t deployed the entire South African contingent throughout Seattle to watch for Max. According to Sebastian, even an X-5 would have a hard time fighting a Red. Now, it was only him and an unconscious Lydecker against a man that Logan suspected had been brainwashed. 

Jam Pony X-Press, 2:53 PM 

As Max and Metje cycled in, Normal called out to her. �Hey,� he said. �That Sam fellow was here looking for you. He sounded kinda pissed.� 

�Zack?� Max gasped.

�Who�s this Zack?� Normal asked. �He once said he was Zack on the phone, but that was a long time ago.�

�Is he still here?� Max asked.

�No. He said he�d come back later. He walked off in a huff though, and looked like he wanted to fight.�

Suddenly, realization dawned on Max. She knew where Zack was going and why he was being so aggressive.

�Come on, Alex,� Max said frantically. �Let�s go!�

�Hey,� Normal said. �I�ve got some packages for you and this �bodyguard� of yours to deliver.� However, the last three words were said to empty air. Max and Metje were gone. 

Streets of Seattle, 2:56 PM 

Max and Metje were burning rubber, heading for Logan�s penthouse and hoping that they wouldn�t get there too late. All of a sudden, two of the Reds stepped into the road ahead of them. One of them was a short Indian with hair that was a couple inches longer than the Red norm. The other was a tall, blocky Caucasian with an eyepatch. Both of them were carrying their Uzis.

�We have to get back to the apartment,� the Indian said. �The military people know Max is here and they�re searching for her.�

�We�re going there,� Metje said in a near shout. �According to Max, a Manticore operative may be searching for her and he may already be there! We don�t want our host and our military liaison to get hurt do we?�

�You�re right, Alex,� the Caucasian growled. �Let�s go.� 

Logan�s Penthouse, 2:57 PM 

�Come back here, Miracle Boy,� Zack said threateningly. �I know you�re around here somewhere.� Zack had been unprepared to find that Logan was now much faster that a normal human and the man had managed to dodge his lunge and get away. He was somewhere in the penthouse�Zack kept one eye on the door the whole time to make sure he didn�t run�but he couldn�t find him.

Suddenly, Zack saw something. He was using his telescoping vision to search the apartment and he noticed a slight skid mark on the floor near a sofa. A normal eye would have trouble seeing it and more trouble figuring out what it meant. But Zack knew what it was. He stalked over to the sofa, reached under it, and seized Logan�s leg. He jerked his hand back as two bullets roared out from under the sofa. Apparently Logan had gotten to a gun soon after his escape.

�Nice try,� Zack growled and decided on another approach. He reached down, seized the sofa with one hand, and lifted it up in the air. With the other hand, he reached down and seized Logan�s gun hand, dragging him out into the open.

�Gotcha now,� Zack said. Suddenly, he heard footsteps outside and a familiar voice calling his name.

�Max,� he said. Then he looked to Logan. �I guess I won�t have to torture you after all,� he said malevolently. Then he bounded away. 

Near the Door of Logan�s Penthouse, 2:59 PM 

Max wasn�t alone, Zack saw. Three commandos were behind her, armed with Uzis. They weren�t raised, yet.

�Zack!� Max said, moving forward as if to hug him. Then, she stepped back suddenly when she saw the unconscious Lydecker in the corner and some overturned furniture in the living room.

�He was an enemy of Manticore,� Zack growled. �An enemy of us. Your enemy too.� He squinted at her. �Apparently the Anomalies didn�t do too much damage to you. You look just as�� He shut up suddenly, then cleared his throat and began again. �Come with me,� he said, reaching out his hand. �Come back to where you were born.�

Max�s eyes widened. She suspected that the Manticore people had done something to Zack, but now knowing it for sure hit her like a load of bricks. �They�ve brainwashed you, Zack,� she said, voice thick with emotion. �You-you�re like Brin. They�ve stolen your soul.�

Zack narrowed his eyes. �Well, then. Dr. Renfro warned me that they�ve brainwashed you. Miracle Boy and the traitor really did a job, Max, but we can undo that.� He leaped forward, trying to seize Max. Metje and the Indian Red stepped forward, intercepting him. All three went tumbling, but Metje and the other were up before Zack. They proceeded to pick him up and toss him at a wall. Zack stuck out a foot and pushed off from the wall, coming back at them. Sticking both his arms straight out, he �clothes-lined� both of them. The third Red stepped forward to protect Max.

�I�ve taken out two of you,� Zack growled. �You don�t look like much.�

Suddenly, the two Reds stepped up behind Zack and seized him, putting him in an immobilizing hold. �You thought wrong,� Metje growled at him. Since Reds don�t feel pain, the hits Zack had administered didn�t have as much of an effect on them. �Who are you!� the Indian demanded. �Are you from Manticore?�

Zack didn�t answer with words. Instead, he kicked at both of their kneecaps at the same time, dropping out of their hold and sending them staggering back at the same time. Both of them had no expressions on their faces. He then ran towards an open window and leaped through it. �Zack!� Max screamed, then went chasing after him.

When she got to the window, she saw that he had landed on a balcony below her. He looked up at her. His eyes held a trace of�sadness? Then, he went into the apartment below. Using her enhanced hearing, Max heard a shout, two gunshots, the sound of a blow being administered, and the opening of a door. After a moment, she heard pained groans below. After another moment, she heard pained groans behind her.

�Ouch,� Lydecker said as he came back to consciousness. �That boy can hit.� He shook his head a bit, as though he was trying to clear his vision. He saw that the Reds had come while he was unconscious. �We were waiting for you,� he said simply. Then he saw Max. �Ah. Now that Max is here, we need to talk. Do you fellows have any means of contacting Captain Visser?�

�We had cellular phones. I contacted Captain Visser and told him about the situation a few minutes ago,� Metje said. �However, while we can all contact Captain Visser and vice versa, we don�t know each other�s phone numbers. He should be here momentarily.�

Logan stepped into the room and looked around. �Looks like it�s time for a remodeling,� he said. �And I�m not sure how I�ll pay for it.� 

Dining Room, Logan�s Penthouse, 3:05 PM 

�Well, Max is being hunted by the Seattle military command and by Manticore,� Captain Visser said. �We got to her before Seattle military command could, but Manticore�s already made trouble.� They were all assembled around Logan�s dinner table, trying to figure out what to do.

�In fact,� Lydecker said. �Manticore has managed to brainwash the X-5 who knows the locations of all the other rogue X-5s, and in a very short time. I had him for a whole lot longer than this and I couldn�t break him. They managed to do it in a few days.�

�The other X-5s are at risk?� Logan asked. �That can�t be good.�

�Aren�t the other X-5s scattered around the country?� Captain Visser asked. �Is there some way to warn them?�

�We used Eyes Only the first time this happened,� Max said. �Why not use it again?�

�How can we have them all check in, though?� Logan asked. �We can�t access that thing Zack uses to keep track of them. He�s changed all the codes.�

�And Manticore knows them now. However, we don�t know if he�s blown the positions of all of them, or even if he knows where they are now. We have to neutralize him somehow,� Lydecker said. �And I know how to do it.�

�How?� Captain Visser asked.

�Use something that Logan�s uncle created for us. It�s a��

�Oh hell no!� Logan half-shouted. �You�ve got another armed hover-drone? I thought we erased all the plans!�

�Yep,� Lydecker said. �The last one in existence. One of your late uncle�s associates sold Dr. Renfro the plans at a very low price, as well as the second prototype. Sergeant Kalins, one of those few who still follow me, has it. Since the plans are gone, Manticore can�t make a new one. We�ve got a trump card.�

�Wait a minute,� Max said angrily. �You�re going to try to use that killer-drone on Zack! Over my dead body you will!�

�If Zack isn�t removed from play,� Lydecker rumbled. �He�ll put all your siblings in jeopardy. Furthermore, he knows where to find you, Logan, our South African friends, and me. We managed to drive him off, but next him, he�ll come back with other X-5s, TAC troops, and other Manticore surprises. I�m sorry Max, but I can�t think of any other way. It�s for the best.�

�No, it�s not,� Max said, apparently on the verge of tears. �We can help him�change his mind.�

�The Zack you know is dead,� Lydecker said with ominous finality. �They did to him what they did to Brin, only in a much shorter time.�

�Then it might have been rushed,� Max said, hoping against hope. �They might have cut corners, left vulnerabilities!�

�We can�t count on that,� Lydecker said. �You said you�d rather die than go back to Manticore. If Zack lives, he can inflict that particular �fate worse than death� to you and all the others.� He turned to Logan. �You crusade against injustice with your Eyes Only operation. Dr. Renfro has overseen the assassination of many like you, on the Committee�s orders. The Committee is in charge of things that even I find repulsive, and they fear those such as you. Zack can kill you on Renfro�s orders, just as he tried to kill me. Through him, Manticore will know your �secret identity�.�

�No,� Logan said. �There has got to be some other way.�

Lydecker sighed. �Son, your idealism is admirable but we don�t have time for this. Zack has got to be removed, and quickly. He was a powerful friend, but now he�s a powerful enemy. He has been reborn as a servant of evil men now, and the old Zack is dead.�

�No!� Max said angrily. �He is not. I saw in his face, his mannerisms! The old Zack is still there, somewhere! I saw it with my own eyes!�

�Ditto,� Logan said. �When I told him that Max thought he was dead, he seemed surprised.�

�He�s probably been told you were dead,� Lydecker said.

�Then why would they send him after me?� Max asked.

�Psycho-active drugs. They can scramble one�s perception of reality. They told him you were dead to weaken him, broke his mind open with the drugs and screwed around, then brainwashed him and sent him after you. Due to the drugs, this situation doesn�t cause a conflict in his mind. Unless you�re right and they rushed and cut corners, which I doubt since it doesn�t sound like Dr. Renfro�s way of doing things, professional deprogrammers would have a lot of trouble with him and we don�t have any of them.�

Logan frowned. �What can we do?�

Nobody had an answer. 

Seattle-Tacoma Airport, 3:30 PM 

Carrying his bags, Ushenko left the airport proper and entered the parking lot. He sniffed the air. The X-5 scent, the smell that blended human and big cat, was faint on the air. There was at least one here, possibly others. There was a Hum-V parked near a razor-wire topped fence. Ushenko walked over to the Hum-V and scented it. The vehicle had other smells besides the X-5. He grinned wolfishly, revealing slightly longer, narrower teeth (a side effect of the wolf DNA). He would track the �other� scents to their origin, then see if the X-5 scent was there. He�d then find the X-5.

He sniffed the X-5 odor again and held it in his nose, as though he was savoring it. In reality, he was using the scent triggers within it to gain information about the target. The target was young, probably in the early 20s. The target was also male. He couldn�t get too much more beyond that. At least it narrowed down the possible targets.

Ushenko frowned, trying to remember what to do. �Ah yes,� he said to himself. �Find Russian expatriates who could �settle me in,� possibly lean on Mafia people for information.� He remembered the Odessa Social Club and smiled. He moved towards the airport exit, sniffing the air as he went. The X-5 scent was on the roads, where it was deposited by the Hum-V. The trail was set and the hunt was on. 

An Abandoned Construction Site, 3:45 PM 

Zack hunched on the edge of a beam, looking down over Seattle. �I failed,� he said in a voice that could best be described as enraged and morose at the same time. �Miracle Boy and Lydecker aren�t the only ones involved; there are people as strong or stronger than I am here.� He watched the city from above, looking down on the average citizens going about their day, staring down on once-stately buildings since fallen to decay, and Sector checkpoints. Max was out there, somewhere, as was the traitor Lydecker and Logan.

Zack began daydreaming, thinking back to the events of the days before.

He put the gun to his own head. �X-5/599, I�ve got a heart for you,� he said, squeezing the trigger. However, before he could depress the trigger enough to fire, he was shot in the back, probably by one of the guards. He collapsed onto Max, dropping the gun from limp fingers. As he was dragged away from Max and the others, he could see Dr. Renfro saying: �Wait. I�ve got a heart we can use.� Zack wondered whose heart it was. Ben�s? Tinga�s? An X-5 that he did not know about? His vision, which was blurring due to the pain in his back, quickly faded to nothing. The last thing he heard was: �Don�t harvest parts. Keep her alive as long as you can.�

�Thus began my redemption,� Zack said, snapping back to reality. �I was the prodigal son and now I�ve come home. Manticore is life. They made me strong so I could serve them and serve the United States.� He thought for a while. �One more try. I�ll try to find Max on my own, and I�ll call in the others if I cannot.� 

Dining Room, Logan�s Penthouse, 4:00 PM 

�Well,� Captain Visser said. �What can we do? This �Zack� is an obvious threat and he has to be dealt with somehow.�

�We will not sic the killer-drone on him,� Logan said. �That�s final.�

�Technically speaking, the hover-drone is not your property,� Lydecker said. �It belongs to Manticore now, and I�m the Manticore-chief-in-exile. I could say it was mine.�

�You�re living in my house, though,� Logan said, making a thinly-veiled threat.

�He may come back,� Max said. �We could try again.�

�If he comes back,� Lydecker said, �Zack will bring other X-5s, TAC troops, or even X-7s.�

�Children?� Logan asked.

�Sorry to burst your bubble, sir,� Captain Visser said, �but we killed most of them during our raid on Manticore. If the X-7s were last-ditch base defense before our attack, they won�t be sending the few left alive after us.�

�What about the X-6s?� Logan asked. �Are there any? If there are, what can they do?� Everyone looked at Lydecker. He sighed, then began talking.

�The X-7s, as you know, have hive minds, while the X-5s have individual personalities and are trained to fight together. When Max and Zack tag-teamed on a TAC squad after Vogelsang�s death, they fought in a near-telepathic rapport. The TAC troops that the two beat half to death will attest to that.� Lydecker half-smiled. �The X-6s are an intermediate group. They have individual personalities, but group them and there is a mental �seep� as information is traded between minds, creating a very loose network. Although they retain their individuality, they move in sync and share information mentally. In very large groups, they do act as a hive mind, with the individual bodies used as extensions of the collective will.�

�Half-baked X-7s?� Logan asked.

�Sort of,� Lydecker said. �The hive mind is vulnerable. If one member is destroyed, the mind shatters, stunning all of them for a short time. Once they recover from the shock, the resultant mind is weaker due to the loss of a constituent brain. With the X-7s, all but one of them can die and the mind will go on.�

�How likely is it that these X-6s will be used against us?� Captain Visser asked.

�Not likely,� Lydecker said. �The majority of the X-6 class is deployed in an �unofficial war� in Manchuria against the rump Communist regime. The X-6s are resistant to radiation and there are still a few �hot spots� left over from the nuclear attack. It�s a Committee project, designed to keep the Communists contained and away from united Korea, a nation that helps look out for our interests in the Far East while we recover from the Pulse.� Lydecker�s eyes twinkled in what could be amusement. �Now that I�ve told you, I�d have to kill you. There are probably only four X-6s stateside and they�re deployed in the Eastern Seaboard, very far from here.�

Logan frowned, thinking. �If you want to use the drone,� he began. Lydecker and the others looked at him. �You could target it on the one behind its use in other cases.�

�Who might that be?� Captain Visser asked.

�This Dr. Renfro,� Logan said. �Even if the attack is unsuccessful, it would delay or stop altogether any action on her part. I don�t particularly like doing this, but getting us all killed by Manticore is not a good idea either.� Logan frowned again. �This sucks.�

�I agree,� Captain Visser said. �It does. However, what can we do?� He thought a moment. �Tell Dr. Renfro we have it and use it as a bargaining chip?�

�Not a good idea,� Lydecker said. �That would most likely cause her to make a pre-emptive attack on Seattle. As I told Logan before you all showed up, the Committee�s got a lot of pull with the Defense Department and the DoD�s got a lot of pull with the federal government as a whole, which would give them authority in the city and a lot of federal power. Even if you count for owed-favors and official connections diluting as they go along, I�d say that they could pull strings to instate a city-wide lockdown and searches of every structure. That�s the most likely scenario. In cards, one never gives away one�s hand. In low-intensity warfare, why would there be a difference?�

�Perhaps,� Metje cut in. He and the other Reds were standing near the doors, acting as guards. �We could neutralize this �Zack� without killing him while taking out Renfro. If Manticore is decapitated and its elements in Seattle are dealt with, they cannot seriously threaten us for awhile.�

�The Committee would just bring up another one of its shadow bureaucrats to take Renfro�s place,� Lydecker said. �I doubt our grace period would be that long.�

�It would give us time to flee the country,� Captain Visser said. �To Canada, most likely, or Mexico. Or we could go to ground here; flee Seattle to the rural areas, such as the Cascades.�

�Cape Haven?� Logan asked himself, out loud. �Don�t know if we�d be welcome there.� Captain Visser gave him a quizzical look but said nothing.

�Well,� Max said. �It�s the closest thing we�ve come to for a plan of action that everyone agrees on. We all know that Dr. Renfro is the source of our troubles. If she�s hurt or killed, then Manticore will be in disarray. Lydecker�s exile has caused several other people to desert, right?� Lydecker nodded in agreement. �Well, if Dr. Renfro dies, Manticore could fall apart. With Manticore paralyzed, Zack could be dealt with here.�

�He�s dead inside,� Lydecker insisted. �You�re being young and na�ve, thinking you can save his soul.�

�This Renfro sounds like the main enemy,� Captain Visser said. �Surely she�s a bigger threat.�

�When I was in charge of Manticore,� Lydecker said. �It would be a grave threat to the X-5s if I learned their locations or brainwashed the one of them who did. With Dr. Renfro, it is the same thing. If the drone is used to kill Dr. Renfro, Zack will still remain in Manticore�s thrall and he can still expose the others. If the drone is used to kill Zack, Renfro will lose her chief source of information. We could use the drone to kill Renfro after taking out Zack, however.�

�Fine way to switch sides,� Logan said. �You�re working to prevent the capture of those you once hunted.�

�Dr. Renfro wants me dead, as she would want you taken out if she knew you were Eyes Only,� Lydecker retorted. �You�ve gained powerful allies in the X-5s and in Captain Visser�s group of Reds. It�s in my interest to help you, since you all have helped me avoid being killed. Knowing her, I�d probably be fed to the Anomalies or something unpleasant like that. Now, back to the subject. Zack remains the immediate threat. How can we stop him without killing him, then?�

�I don�t know,� Max admitted. �But we aren�t going to kill him.� She gave Lydecker a poisonous look. He just stared back, statement neutral. His apparent lack of emotions was creepy sometimes.

�You said they used psycho-active drugs,� Logan said. �How exactly do those work?�

�They cause the subject to lose his or her grip on reality and hallucinate. They are also extremely susceptible to suggestion. When I had Zack, I pumped him full of drugs and told him that Max had come for him. He hallucinated that she was there. Judging from what you told me Zack was saying while I was out, Dr. Renfro convinced him that we�d kidnapped Max and brainwashed her. It�s designed to play on Zack�s emotions, make him hate you and me, and it would serve to explain why Max would resist him,� Lydecker said. �I think I�ve explained this before.�

�That nasty doctor used something on me when I was back at Manticore, a couple of days ago,� Max said. �He said it wasn�t a psycho-active drug, but it would weaken my willpower. He combined that with several nasty electric shocks, saying it would break me.�

�I think that doctor was using a variant of the �date-rape drug,�� Lydecker said. �It�s designed to weaken the will. Since I�d used up all the psycho-actives on Zack and Brin, they didn�t have any to use on you. The ideal means of brainwashing a renegade involves using psycho-active drugs to discover their worst fears, then play on them to slowly but surely �turn� them. Using the �gratitude� angle sometimes works,� the X-5 trainer commented. �Brin thinks that Dr. Renfro �saved� her from Werner�s Syndrome and her genetic flaw, so she practically worships her. Since Manticore were out of psycho-actives at the time, the doctor decided to simply weaken your will and torture you to achieve the same results.�

�But if Manticore is out of psycho-actives, why do you think they used them on Zack?� Captain Visser asked.

�Probably a batch came in after you all came and went, but before they started brainwashing Zack. Dr. Renfro is a good manipulator; perhaps she used the same technique, but with better effect.�

�I asked how it was done because I was wondering if we could reverse the process,� Logan said. �Do you know any way to do it?�

�More use of psycho-actives is the only way I can think to do it,� Lydecker said. �However, those are hard to get and we�d need to capture Zack before we could use them. Furthermore, overuse of psycho-actives could drive him completely insane and he�d have to be put down. Combine the physical power of an X-5 with complete homicidal insanity and you�d have a dangerous monster, not a human.�

�The question is,� Captain Visser cut in, �what on Earth do we do? Every minute we sit her bickering, this Dr. Renfro is planning to hit us badly. If we hesitate too long, we�ll lose. However, we�ve got the distant but more powerful threat of Dr. Renfro, and the closer and less powerful Zack. According to some of my people, Zack was not the most difficult of opponents. Metje and two other Reds managed to subdue him easily enough. I think we should hit Dr. Renfro. She�s part of this Committee, so she�s more dangerous and has more resources at her disposal.�

�What about Zack, then?� Lydecker asked. �If he�s left alive, he�ll give the other X-5s� locations to the new head of Manticore.�

�On the other hand, if he�s already spilled the beans but Dr. Renfro dies before she can act on it,� Logan said. �The new head won�t have the information, but Zack will think that he or she does because he�s already told Renfro and Renfro would have written it down somewhere. My vote is to hit Dr. Renfro first.�

�If the drone attacks Renfro at Manticore, it�s not likely to come back,� Lydecker said. �Plus, if they got hold of its remains, they could reverse-engineer new killer-drones.�

�Is the drone equipped with a self-destruct mechanism?� Metje asked. �If it is, you can set it off if the drone is destroyed.�

�Thing is, the drone isn�t,� Logan said. �They�re supposed to be used many, many times before destruction. Besides, an enemy could crack the transmission frequencies the weapons used and destroy all the drones that way. A self-destruct device would be a vulnerability.�

�How do you know all this?� Lydecker asked. �I thought you didn�t like the thing.�

�I read some of the designers notes that were a file separate from the blueprints. Lots of information.�

�Could a self-destruct device be improvised?� Max asked. �Link a bomb of some kind to the control center of the unit and, if it�s critically damaged, the people controlling it could destroy it.�

�I�ll call Sergeant Kalins and see if he can do it,� Lydecker said. �No promises.� 

An Underground Parking Garage, Seattle, 4:20 PM 

�Sergeant Kalins, this is Lydecker,� Lydecker said when Sergeant Kalins answered the phone. �We may use the drone.�

�On who, sir?� Sergeant Kalins asked.

�Dr. Renfro. We need you to set up the control unit somewhere safe and send out the drone. Do you have Dr.Renfro�s photograph on file?�

�Yes sir, we do,� Sergeant Kalins said. �However, I don�t know too much about how the thing works. I think that Lieutenant McDonald, might. I think he was part of the controlling group.�

�Put him on, then.�

�Yes sir.� Lt. McDonald, a stocky man with short, curly brown hair, was sitting in the back of the Hum-V, fiddling with something on a laptop computer. �Lt. McDonald, sir,� Sergeant Kalins said. �Lydecker needs to speak to you. We may have to use the hover-drone.� He handed the man, a rangy fellow with short black hair and a square jaw, the phone.

�Thank you, Sergeant,� Lt. McDonald said as he took the phone. Then, to Lydecker: �Lt. McDonald here, sir. You need to use the drone?�

�Yes, Lieutenant. Can you program it to attack Dr. Renfro and anyone who gets in its way?�

�Yes sir, I can.�

�Can you create a way for it to self-destruct? If the Committee gets hold of it, they�ll be able to reverse-engineer it and create new drones. We do not want that.�

Lt. McDonald thought about it for a moment. �I think I can. When you want it sent after Dr. Renfro?�

�As soon as possible. Manticore is in Wyoming and even though the drone has an electric charge that can last quite awhile, it�ll take a day or so for it to get there.� 

�Well, I can jam a small explosive onto the frame and wire it to the drone�s controls. That can be done very fast.�

�Good. I want that thing launched as soon as humanly possible. Remember that. Call me when you�re done. Lydecker out.� He hung up. Lt. McDonald got out of the Hum-V and called to the others.

�All right. We�re going to assemble the control unit and launch the drone. However, we�ll need to go deeper underground for security reasons. There�s another level below this, possibly two. Load everything into the Hummer and let�s go!� 

Jam Pony X-Press, 4:31 PM 

Ushenko walked into Jam Pony X-Press and the scent of not one, but two X-5s hit him. The second X-5 was female, about the same age as the target. His superiors were correct; Seattle was practically a hotbed of X-5 activity. Now the question was, which X-5 to hunt? He could keep chasing the male, or he could hunt the female, or possibly both. Two X-5 genetic samples, each from a different subject, would endear him most mightily to the Deathstalker handlers in Russia. Perhaps he would receive an Order of Alexander from Zhrinovosky himself�

�Excuse me, there,� Normal said. �Can I help you?�

�Just�looking around a bit,� Ushenko said, gulping. �Are you the proprietor of this place?�

�I believe I am,� Normal said. �What are you doing here?�

�I was�looking around, as I said,� Ushenko replied. He wasn�t expecting this.

Normal examined the odd-looking young man who had entered Jam Pony X-Press and seemed to be sniffing the air, like he was a dog or something. The man was tall, with a medium build. He had short, dark hair and green eyes; a strange iridescent green, like the eyes of wolves that Normal had seen on one of those Discovery Channel specials. His muscular build was slightly unusual in a way that Normal couldn�t quite place.

�Are you interested in employment?� Normal asked. �I can always use another messenger.�

�No�thanks,� Ushenko said, smiling. His controllers hadn�t briefed him on this. All he could do was improvise and hope the man wasn�t a spy.

�Well, don�t get in the way,� Normal said. �This is a place of business.� 

Manticore Personnel Office, 3:45 PM (Mountain Time) 

�How many personnel are we missing?� Dr. Renfro asked. She was talking to Manticore�s personnel clerk, a short, fat character with thick glasses that was always smoking a cigar. The man had several files spread across his desk. Two of them were personnel records of Sergeant Kalins and a Corporal Whittier, another one of Lydecker�s renegades.

�I believe nineteen personnel have vanished, ma�am,� the man said in a ridiculous French accent. �Some of them, like Sergeant Kalins, disappeared before the raid on Manticore, while others left soon after the fallout from the raid died down. Where do you think they could have gone?�

�I don�t know,� Dr. Renfro lied. �That�s why I�m asking you.� Actually, she suspected that many of them had joined Lydecker, while others didn�t want to participate in a factional battle for control of Manticore and simply ran off. The question was, she didn�t know who did what. Sergeant Kalins was known to be very loyal to Lydecker, so she suspected he was a renegade.

�Well, I think that perhaps hunting the X-5s may have caused so much stress that they snapped mentally and are now wandering around the streets of Gillette, not knowing who they are or where they are. Of course, they could also have decided to use the chaos of the raid to desert and flee to Canada or even Alaska. I think that��

�Well, do we have any tracking information on where they could have gone?�

�Some of them vanished from Lydecker�s contingent soon after you ordered his arrest, ma�am. Others deserted from the forces you sent to apprehend Lydecker after he killed the soldiers you sent after him. Some could have fled the base during or after the raid. The first two groups are probably hiding out in Seattle, while the third group is either going to Seattle to join them, if they aren�t already there, or have fled to other places.�

�Nineteen personnel,� Dr. Renfro said, grinding her teeth. �This will not do. And we haven�t even checked on our agents in other cities yet.� Even if only nine of the current batch of deserters had joined Lydecker and the other ten were just staying out of it, mass desertions would further tarnish her reputation within the Committee. They could appoint someone else to helm Manticore and send her to run some low-level thing like hunting down the last of the Children of Armageddon cultists that had fled into the Siskiyou and Cascade Mountains after their failed uprising in Oregon. Dirty work with little chance of advancement.

�Do what you can to track them,� Dr. Renfro ordered. �I�ve got other business to take care of.� The Committee was going to meet and discuss the X-5 situation, and she�d be on the hot seat. She�d need to gather notes and prepare for the inevitable onslaught. 

An Underground Parking Garage, Seattle, 4:50 PM 

�Is the drone ready for launch?� Lydecker asked Lt. McDonald over the cellular phone.

�Almost, sir. We�ve rigged up the self-destruct device you asked for, and we�ve got the control unit set up. We just have to program the drone with Renfro�s picture and get the thing flying. However, we�re having some trouble.�

�What�kind of trouble?� Lydecker asked, his neutral voice becoming more sepulchral, more grave. �Will it prevent the launch of the drone?�

�Colonel Lydecker, sir, apparently Dr. Renfro programmed the drone so it couldn�t be used against her. I think she suspected something like this would happen when you circumvented the drone�s programming and had the other fellow killed instead. The program is now asking for a �Committee-Level Security� password. Corporal Lenson�s an encryption guru and he�s been fooling with it for the past half-hour, but we may be awhile.�

�Listen to me, Lieutenant. Every minute that drone sits there, Dr. Renfro is plotting our demise. We need her taken out ASAP, for our own safety.�

�I know the situation, sir. However, that password is a beast. The code�s got a million possible combinations and resets itself every three mistakes that are made.� Suddenly, he heard a chime, and the computer-sounded words �Access Granted.� �Wait a minute, sir, I think we�ve broken through. As I said, Lenson�s good.�

�Good,� Lydecker said. �Get it going soon.� 

Dining Room, Logan�s Penthouse, 4:51 PM 

Lydecker looked to the others. �It�s almost ready.�

�For some reason, I can�t bring myself to say that that�s good,� Logan said. �How much carnage is required to get anything done these days? We thought destroying the Manticore lab would save Max and the others from further torment. All that�s happened is that Zack�s been brainwashed, Max nearly killed, and Manticore�s out for vengeance.�

�From a military perspective, it�s necessary,� Lydecker said. �Decapitate the head of the enemy command structure and the �body� will be easy pickings.�

�Militarily, he�s right,� Captain Visser said. �Destroy a divisional HQ, taking out its commanders and communications, and the division itself will be much easier to destroy. Still, we�re killing another person in cold blood, here.�

�That other person would kill us all given half a chance,� Max cut in. �Don�t get all squirrelly on us.�

�I�m not getting squirrelly on anyone here,� Captain Visser shot back. �However, killing in the heat of battle when there�s no other choice is one thing, cold-bloodedly assassinating someone is different.�

�You killed the doctor at Manticore,� Max said. �He wasn�t a threat.�

�He was torturing you, Max,� Captain Visser said. �I�d expected you to be more appreciative.�

�You thought I was dead, at the time,� Max said. �That argument doesn�t work.�

�He could have been armed,� Captain Visser said. �I�ve had experiences with �noncombatants� all of a sudden attacking me when I wasn�t paying attention. He also could have aided the other soldiers in some way, like telling them we were there. In an ideal world, we could have simply walked in invisibly and carried you out.�

�This is the same thing, only bigger,� Lydecker said. �You killed someone who could have helped the enemy; I�m talking about removing the enemy puppeteer.�

�I can understand both your views,� Logan said. �Militarily it�s a necessity, but from an ethical angle, what we�re doing is dubious.�

Lydecker�s cell phone rang. He looked at the others ominously. �Well, it�s all about to become academic now.� He answered the phone. 

An Underground Parking Garage, 4:56 PM 

�Colonel Lydecker, we�re ready for launch. Confirm the order, sir,� Lt. McDonald said.

There was a pause on the other end. �Order confirmed. Kill Dr. Renfro.�

Lt. McDonald put his phone to the side and looked to the others. �The order is confirmed. Launch the drone.�

He typed in a couple of commands on the console and the drone came to life. The engines made a strained-sounding whir, probably the result of the weight of the explosive strapped to the top, and rose in the air. The guns on the underbelly looked more lethal than usual. Lt. McDonald typed in a couple of commands, giving the drone Dr. Renfro�s likely location, the Manticore compound itself. The drone flew towards a nearby ramp, which lead upwards towards daylight. There were two levels between them and the surface, but the drone would get clear.

�How long until the drone makes it to Manticore, sir?� Sergeant Kalins asked.

�Probably a day or so. The drone can fly faster than a car at max speed and isn�t restricted to the roads.� 

Dining Room, Logan�s Penthouse, 4:58 PM 

�The drone is launched,� Lt. McDonald�s voice said from Lydecker�s cell phone. �It should reach Manticore in a day or so.� The others watched, intently.

�Have a person who knows how to self-destruct the drone on the console at all times,� Lydecker ordered. �The drone must not, repeat, must not, fall into enemy hands.�

�Well, the drone�s on course,� Metje said. �All we have to do is wait.�

�Now what?� Max asked.

�Well, we could always watch the news,� Lydecker said. �I�ve got my book to get back to.� He climbed up from the chair and moved off towards the living room.

�Funny,� Max said. �When I was shot, I had this weird dream involving us all hanging around the Crash and Lydecker was sitting in the corner, reading a book. I get back and it turns out that�s what he�s been doing. Weird, huh?�

�One of his passions, I supposed,� Logan said. �First his job, then his TV news, and finally his books. He�s discovered The Stand just recently and now he�s always reading it. I suppose it will keep him occupied for awhile.�

�Better than plotting our demise,� Max said.

�I heard that,� Lydecker said from the other room.

�Even if Dr. Renfro is killed and Manticore is temporarily out of the equation,� Captain Visser said. �We�ve still got the Washington Military Command to deal with. How do we deal with them?�

�I could try something using my computer,� Logan said. �Crack into the Command�s files and send a fake order, supposedly from the highest leaders, terminating the manhunt on Max.�

�Will they fall for that?� Max asked. �These people aren�t dumb. They might give the higher-ups a call and see if it�s true.�

�It�s worth a shot,� Logan said. �We�ve got two enemies here, the Washington Military Command and Manticore. Best we narrow them down, somewhat.� 

Washington-Idaho State Line, 7:07 PM 

The hover-drone got to the Washington state line slightly more than two hours after its launch. Because aircraft need not use the roads, it could fly over rough terrain and it made better time than other state-crossers. It flew over the partially-repaired checkpoint that Max and the Reds had busted through mere days before and entered Idaho. 

An Abandoned Construction Site, 7:09 PM 

Ushenko stepped onto the concrete foundation below the skeleton of rusted girders and looked up, sniffing the air. The male X-5 was here mere hours before; the scent was strong. However, he had since left. The scent trail went up the beams towards the sky, so the Russian decided to follow it. Still, he had options. If the male X-5 could not be found, the female X-5 would be the next target. The scent would linger at Jam Pony X-Press for days, so he could still follow that if need be. 

Street Near Logan�s Building, 7:12 PM 

Zack looked up towards the penthouse, eyes narrow in anger. If he could not succeed this time, he would call Manticore and ask for backup. Max was most likely there, hiding out from the state military authorities. Lydecker, Logan, and those mysterious characters that had defeated him before were probably there as well.

�I�ll save you, Maxie,� Zack said. �And kill Lydecker for you.� He smiled predatorily and entered the building. 

Balcony Below the Penthouse, 7:20 PM 

Zack jimmied the lock into the apartment easily enough, all while listening for a sound. He remembered coming through the apartment after his ill-fated rescue attempt and didn�t want anyone with a gun to take him by surprise. Apparently nobody was in there; he couldn�t even detect breathing. He opened the door very slowly and crept into the apartment. The lights were all out, and his enhanced vision revealed the apartment was empty.

He slid through the apartment towards the balcony, watching for any movement. Suddenly, he heard a footfall. Somebody was in there with him.

�Freeze, asshole,� he heard. Next came the sound of shotgun shells being chambered. He looked behind him and there was the man he had to stun when he fled. The man was short and stocky, with a dark gray beard. There was a bruise on the side of his head from their previous encounter. �I figured you might come back and I laid a trap.�

Zack took off running towards the balcony and the shotgun went off with a roar. Pellets slammed into the ground where the X-5 had been standing before. He crashed through the glass doorway leading out into the balcony and leaped onto the window-frame of Logan�s penthouse. There he held on by his fingertips, while the winds whistled around him. Slowly, he reached down and drew a diamond-tipped glass-cutter from a pocket. He hoped that the man below didn�t look too hard.

He reached up and touched the cutter to the glass. He made a small incision and began making a circle. 

Inside Logan�s Penthouse, 7:23 PM 

Zack pulled the circle of glass out of the window and threw it into the air. It fell towards the street, but due to wind and height, it would take awhile to get there. Zack slithered into the penthouse through the hole. Nobody was in the room that he had entered, but he could hear conversation nearby.

�I�m here, Max,� he said, eyes full of cold fury. He climbed to his feet and looked around. Using his enhanced hearing, he heard Logan and Lydecker were in a nearby room, while several others were farther off. One person, however, was coming close. There was a door on the other side of the room, and that person was getting close.

The door opened and Metje entered. As soon as he saw Zack, he immediately went into a combat stance, his guard up. His eyes locked on the X-5, who stared back with a predator�s disdain for the prey.

�Who are you?� Metje whispered.

�Your death, traitor,� Zack growled. Then, he leaped.

Metje moved to intercept him and the battle began. Zack landed several blows on Metje in quick succession, but the Red�s immunity to pain caused them to have little effect. Metje responded by sweeping Zack�s legs out from under him. As the X-5 fell, he pushed himself off the floor with his hands and back onto his feet. As he did that, he kicked Metje in the chin.

Despite his not feeling any discomfort, the impact jarred Metje�s brain inside his skull and disoriented him. Metje staggered back, trying to get his bearings. Zack came full-on, striking at the Red with his hands and feet. Metje swung his fist, catching the X-5 in the side. Zack went tumbling into the wall, but bounced off with the agility of a cat. As Zack came back at him, Metje struck him in the face, bloodying his nose and sending him toppling back. Zack came on, enraged.

�Metje,� Captain Visser called from the other room. �What are you up to in there?�

Metje opened his mouth to say something, but Zack hit him in the stomach. The Red didn�t feel any pain, but it was enough to disrupt his concentration. Metje retaliated by kneeing Zack in the stomach and sending him back again. Zack kicked Metje in side, knocking him a bit but otherwise doing little damage.

�Enough of this,� Zack growled, drawing a silenced pistol from his jacket. He opened fire on Metje, hitting him in the shoulder and the stomach. He expected Metje to collapse; he wasn�t expected the Red to pick him up bodily and hurl him into the wall. Zack hit the wall on his side and was unable to bounce himself off. He fell down the wall onto a table covered with some miscellaneous items. The table broke and everything was scattered on the floor. The resulting CRASH was the battle�s first loud noise; the fight had been waged in near-total silence. 

Logan�s Kitchen, 7:27 PM 

The crashing sound came suddenly from the other room and everyone jumped to their feet. Captain Visser and the other Reds all had their guns, but Max spied an Uzi sitting on the counter.

�I think someone�s lost their gun,� Max commented.

�I think so too,� Captain Visser said. �Alex! What�s going on in there?�

�Our visitor is back,� Metje said. �And he�s�� Another CRASH drowned out Metje�s voice.

�All right,� Captain Visser ordered the others. �Safeties off and let�s go! One of our people is in trouble, and we�ve got an intruder.� Weapon at ready, he stepped forward and opened the door.

As soon as the door was open, Metje came crashing out to sprawl on the kitchen floor. There was blood on his clothing and he was breathing hard, but he quickly sprung to his feet. Zack came barreling out, only to be faced by the Reds. They all had their guns pointed at him.

�Zack,� Max said, coming up behind the South Africans. �We have to talk.�

�No,� Zack gasped, leaping forward. Two of the Reds fired, but all they succeeded in doing was riddling door and the wall it was set in with bullets. Zack tried to grab Max and pull her along with his momentum, but she squirmed out of his grasp and tripped him, sending him toppling into the sofa in Logan�s living room. He was down for only a second; then he was up and running again. Another Red fired, scoring the sofa and missing the X-5 by centimeters.

�Stop it!� Max called out. The Reds ignored her, trying to draw a bead on Zack. The X-5 crashed through Logan�s door and was gone.

Captain Visser turned to Max. �You�ve got to stop doing that. This �Zack� is not our friend,� he said exasperatedly.

�He�s mine,� Max said defiantly. �He�s just a little out of his head right now.�

�He still tried to kill my people and kidnap you. He also beat up Colonel Lydecker and chased our host around his penthouse. That sort of thing can�t be encouraged.�

�Don�t you Reds have your tasers?� Max asked. �Johannesson and company did!�

�Johannesson was on a different mission,� Captain Visser retorted. �He had different gear. My group doesn�t have any tasers or other incapacitation devices.� He looked to Metje. �Ramaphosa, Williamson. Deal with Alex�s wounds.� Ramaphosa and Williamson, the white man with the eyepatch, moved to obey. 

Wyoming State Line, 2:30 AM (Mountain Time) 

The armed hover-drone, slowed somewhat by its suicide package, flew over the armored checkpoint that guarded the Wyoming border. A half-asleep guarded noticed it, but when he rubbed his eyes to get a better look, the drone was gone. He shrugged and yawned.

The drone�s mission protocols were activated by its relative proximity to the subject�s last known location and it automatically chambered several rounds. Things were about to become very unpleasant at Manticore. 

Streets of Seattle, 3:32 AM 

Ushenko yawned as he continued following the X-5 scent. The male had come this way, but he was getting traces of the female as well. Perhaps the X-5s were hunting each other, or were moving as a group. As Ushenko walked along, he found two new X-5 scents as well. Another male, another female�these two were somewhat younger than the first pair. The two were going in a somewhat different direction, and the scent was older.

Confused, he took a moment to look around. He was alone on the street and although a lot of lights were still on, Seattle was darker than Moscow at this time of night. He sniffed the air. The four X-5 scents were still there, but the scent of new people was there as well. He could ordinarily block out scents that he didn�t need to avoid distraction�he focused on the X-5 scents by blocking out the normal humans��but these new people were close.

He looked up the street and saw three young men coming up the street towards him. They were already within fifty yards. The group had a vaguely-threatening swagger to them, and Ushenko could see that the leader had a pistol. Ancient flight-or-fight instincts came alive, adrenalizing his already-enhanced musculature.

�Hey there,� the leader called out. �We�d like to speak to you.�

Ushenko grinned a bit, his wolfish side coming into play. These three were most likely trying to mug him or harass him, and he decided that he was going to teach them a lesson. He looked down, avoiding eye contact.

The group came closer to him. �Excuse me, Mister, but there�s a law against running around by yourself this late,� the leader, a mean-looking fellow with stringy blond hair, said, getting in Ushenko�s face. �We�re the enforcement police around here�we�re plainclothes, so we aren�t wearing our uniforms.�

�If you were plainclothes, you wouldn�t be telling me that,� Ushenko said. His accent had a trace of Russian in it, which aroused the punks somewhat.

�There�s also a curfew on foreigners,� another punk said. �You�re breaking two laws here.�

�Just give it up,� the third said to the two others. �Let�s just get the guy�s money and run for it.�

�Oh fine,� the leader said, drawing his pistol. �Give us your money now, Russian boy, and we won�t kill you.�

Ushenko looked up, revealing his iridescent green eyes. The two lesser punks stepped back, sudden fear taking hold of them. The leader stood his ground, but Ushenko could smell his uneasiness.

�The money�now skid-mark, before I do something rash,� the leader ordered, chambering a round in the gun.

�Fine,� Ushenko said, making a motion to reach into his pocket. However, his motion quickly led into a leg-sweep that knocked the man�s legs out from under him. The gun went off into empty air, shattering a window in a nearby building. As the man collapsed to the ground, Ushenko stomped on his stomach, making him double over.

�Come on, you idiots,� the leader gasped. �Help�me!�

Before the two could move forward, Ushenko seized both of them by the throats and slammed them both into the leader on the ground. He leaped over them and spun around, ready to strike them as they got up. One of the lesser punks tried to get up, but Ushenko kicked him in the ribs, sending him toppling over. He planted a foot on the leader�s throat as the main punk rolled over to try to get up.

�Now,� Ushenko said. �I�ll think I�ll be having your money, and the gun besides.� The man tried to point the gun at him, but the Deathstalker pressed his foot more firmly into his throat. Eyes bulging and face reddening, the punk lowered the gun and handed the weapon to Ushenko. Ushenko jammed it into his pocket, then looked back down on him.

�Money, now,� Ushenko ordered. The man glared at him and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a wad of bills. Ushenko reached down and took the money. After flipping through it, he realized that he had about $150. Enough for dinner for himself at a fancy restaurant, he decided, in Seattle, New York, or St. Petersburg. He lessened the pressure on the leader�s throat and the man gasped for air.

�Good. Now, any money or weapons your friends have,� Ushenko growled. �Quickly, quickly.�

The third punk tried to get up, but Ushenko used his other foot to kick him in the side of the head, knocking him down. The second punk, still gasping from Ushenko�s kick, withdrew a pocketknife from his pocket. �Just�leave us, man. Get your scary Russian ass out of here!�

�Your friend still hasn�t relinquished his valuables,� Ushenko said.

�That�s because I don�t have any!� the third punk declared.

�He�s lying,� the second punk said. �We got that nice gold watch from that old fart, didn�t we?�

�Yeah, but the moron pawned it to buy booze,� the lead punk said. �His old lady drinks like a fish.�

�We�ll see,� Ushenko said, poking at the third punk with his foot. He found a lump and reached it, withdrawing a small bag of crack cocaine. Ushenko eyed the drugs dispassionately and pocketed them. �Now,� the Russian said to all of them, �you�ve all learned a valuable lesson here. Don�t mug people.�

�I tried to tell them that after that lady beat the shit out of us,� the second punk said, �but no, he said that the majority of people will just give in and that chick was a distinct minority. We got the shit beat out of us again, and I bet that��

�One woman beat on you all?� Ushenko asked, surprised.

�Oh yes, it was a month or so ago,� the third punk said. �We don�t want to admit it, but we tried to mug her rather drunken friend and all of a sudden she starts doing all this karate shit. We all got taken out in short order. Right?�

The lead punk growled, indicating that the others were right but he didn�t want to admit it.

�Where did you see this woman?� Ushenko asked.

�She was near this hole-in-the-wall bar called Crash,� the second punk said. �We�ve seen her there before�sometimes drunks fall asleep outside it and we go through their stuff, and she and her friends are sometimes there when we do it. We haven�t been there since because we�re so scared of her.�

�Where is this �Crash�?� Ushenko asked. �And what did she look like?�

�It�s down the street a ways, on the left. It�s a popular hangout for all these bike messengers, the ones who work 9 to 5 jobs and all. Losers,� the third punk said. �About the woman, she was rather tall and looked somewhat Hispanic. Dark hair, brown eyes. Why are you quizzing us all of a sudden?�

�You�ve been very helpful,� the Deathstalker said. �I think I�ll give this back.� He threw the cocaine back to the third punk. �Now remember,� he said to the others. �I�ll know if you go around making trouble and I�ll come after you. Now go home and go to bed.�

�Ye-yes sir,� the third punk said, getting up and running off. The lead punk rose to his feet and glared at him before setting off after the third punk. Groaning, the second punk got up and limped off behind them. Ushenko watched them go away, listening to them blaming each other for the fiasco. Once they were out of sight, he turned around and went on his way. He was starting to suspect that the woman they were talking about was one of the female X-5s. Perhaps he could lay an ambush at the Crash. He sniffed the air again. Time to get back on the scent. 

Personnel Quarters, Manticore Compound, 6:30 AM (Mountain Time) 

Locking the door behind her, Renfro left her small house on the Manticore grounds. Another day of trying to find Lydecker and the other X-5s before the other members of the Committee start asking questions, she thought. The idea did not appeal to her one bit.

Suddenly, her cell phone rang. She answered it, hoping it was X-5/599 calling in to tell her that he�d successfully removed Lydecker and recaptured Max.

It was X-5/599 all right, but he was bearing different news. �Dr. Renfro, ma�am, this is Za�X-5/599 reporting in.�

�Any luck?� Renfro asked.

�None. I�ve struck twice at where they�re hiding, ma�am, and every time, these huge guys are there and drive me off. I hit them, but they�� Zack said. He had military bearing, but there was a hint of frustration in his voice.

�You�re an X-5, 599, you�re supposed to be tough. What happened?�

�These guys apparently don�t feel pain and they�re tougher than a normal human. I beat on one guy severely and even shot him twice and he still keeps on fighting! It�s�� Renfro suddenly knew what Zack was describing and cut him off.

�The Reds,� Renfro said harshly. �Damn trouble-making South Africans! They first try to grab our X-5 in Seattle, then they try to grab a different X-5 in Texas! We make a deal with the Red overseers to trade tech and then Lydecker has to go and betray us!� As long as the Reds were useful to Manticore, she could tolerate their failed attempts to kidnap rogue X-5s. Now that they�d thrown in their lot with the traitor, things were going to get worse.

�What should I do, ma�am?�

�Sit tight. We may need to send reinforcements. In the meantime, don�t try another raid on where they�re at. Wait until they try to leave. They�ve got to eat sometime, you know. If you can grab the X-5 or kill Lydecker while they outside, do it. The X-5 is a higher priority, though. We can always remove Deck later.�

�Yes ma�am.�

�Good. Renfro out.� She clicked off the phone and put it back in her pocket. The Committee would need to know about the Reds; perhaps having one of the X-series troops do some trouble-making in South Africa would give them the hint on when to back off.

Her cell phone rang again. She growled under her breath and answered it.

�Dr. Renfro, ma�am, this is Perimeter Guard Seven. We�ve got a situation here.�

�What�sort�of�situation?� Dr. Renfro asked coldly.

�Well, you know that hover-drone with the guns that we had earlier?�

�The one that vanished soon after Lydecker�s desertion,� Renfro said. �Yes, I know.�

�Well, it�s come back. It�s got something tied to it, which is slowing it down somewhat. However, it�s heading straight for the personnel quarters and��

�Shit,� Renfro said, realizing why it was here. Lydecker was taking the fight to her now, not letting her keep the initiative. That evil, clever little man�

She heard its engines and realized that the drone was close. Drawing her personal handgun, she took off running towards the nearby fallout shelter. The drone could use its bulk to batter through her house�s walls or simply riddle the entire structure with bullets; a bunker meant to survive a nuclear strike was another matter entirely. As the drone came through the tree-line, Renfro fired her weapon at it. The bullet shattered one of the drone�s lights, but it wouldn�t need that until nightfall.

The drone fired a burst at her, narrowly missing. In the background, she could hear alarms going off. Whatever help arrived, she decided, would be too late. She fired two more rounds at the drone; the ammunition ricocheted off its metal shell. The door to the fallout shelter, set in solid concrete, was about fifty yards away. She was in the open with a killing machine; not a good place to be. Firing at it again, she started running towards the fallout shelter. Fortunately for her, the doors had been left open. Just run in, slam the big doors shut, then run as deep as possible. Leave the drone to the security types.

Suddenly, she felt something tear into her ankle; apparently the drone had hit her. She went down and rolled, trying to get away from the drone. Her handgun went tumbling out of her hand. The weapon hovered overhead, training its powerful guns on her.

It fired. Renfro screamed� 

To Be Continued�