Oh, and CIA codes spell out sensitive names with first letters. (Marylin Amanda Xallans Monet On

Mainstreet= Maxs Mom)

Logan noticed the little flashing red button on his computer. It was 1:34 a.m. and it wasnt unsual for

his sources to call. Anyone tracing them was les likely to do so now. He picked up the reciever and put

the scrambler on it. "Hello, Janson & DiFiore Advertising, Andrew Clark speaking." (Note: Hes gotta

have a cover story) "Hey Andrew, its Herold." Robert Orantio, Los Angeles, California; his

computer trace read. "Party at Marylin Amanda Xallans Monet On Mainstreet. Better be there. I

found a date for your buddy. You know where to meet me. 5:00 p.m. tomorrow, bring your girlfriend,"

drawled the voice on the other end. "Will do. I owe you." Logan hung up. Then he picked up the line

again. Rinnnng.

Maxs apartment

Rinnnng. Damn phone, Max thought. It hadnt woken her because she didnt sleep, but her neighbors

would complain. "Listen buddy, its 1 in the morning. Gimme one good reason why I shouldnt hang

up," she snarled. "Max, its Logan. Get dressed and get to my place. We found her." The line went

dead.

Highway in Oregon

"So why are we driving to L.A. again? How the hell do you even know this guy is legit? Logan?" Max

looked at him in the passenger seat. Then she realized he was asleep. She sighed, then swerved the car

so Logan woke with a start. "What the" he looked at her accusingly. "There was a deer in the road."

she said sweetly. Logan stretched. "Ugh. How long have I been asleep?" "Last time I saw you

concious was at the gas station in Salem." She made a face. "Its no fun to drive a beat-up old car a

100 miles to find out if someone has the right person, or a is just jerking you, without anyone to talk

to." Logan smirked. "When did you get so big on companionship?" Since I saved yourass from that

sniper,she thought. "And dont worry. This guy hasnt failed me yet. Hes the one who helped me find

those files on Zack." Max snorted. "Hell of lot of good those did." "Im truly sorry we couldnt find

him, Max. You know Im trying to find them." She looked at him for a second, and Logan would have

sworn her eyes were filled with sorrow for a moment. "I m just worried about meeting my moth-" She

caught herself.

The warrior-mask fell once more. "About this being a trap. I saved your ass from snipers once, and I

dont wanna have to do it again." Shame shes so callous all the time, he thought, her eyes are so

beautiful "Theres our exit Hey, Logan! Wake up! Youre not falling asleep again, are you?" she

demanded. Logan shook himself. "No, I was just pitying any poor bastard who tries to pass us"

Deficit Café, Los Angeles, CA

"The guy in the red baseball cap. Third booth from the left." Max reported. Logan nodded. "Herold.

You found our friend?" Logan asked casually. The man nodded curtly. "Yeah. Heres the address.

Look for the mailbox with Madris written on it." Max and Logan walked back to the car.

129 Atlantic Drive, Nalri, CA

There it was. A two-story brick cottage with trees and a garden and a doormat. Max just sat, staring

at the house, her breathing erratic. "Max? Are you having another seizure?"Logan asken sharply. She

shook her head. "Do you want me to go with you?" he asked much more gently. Again no. Max got

out of the car, and walked up the path. Childrens handprints were imbedded in the concrete. She

didnt stop to read the names.

Max rang the doorbell. "Hello?" A woman in her early forties had answered. Dark curly hair, huge

brown eyes. "Are you Madrgial Guevara?" The woman nodded like she new what was coming next. "I

think Im your daughter."

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