4.02.02

[virtualda]

Act I

EPISODE 4.02 - KICKING ASS AND TAKING NAMES   Written by: catherder, Rajana, M/L Only

 

ACT II

Jam Pony – Wednesday, August 31, 9:00 AM

The locker door clanged loudly as Max slammed it shut.

“That locker didn’t do anything wrong,’” Original Cindy scolded her, “so don’t kill it.”

“Better the locker than somebody else,” Max commented grimly.

“What’s eating you?” her friend asked, then before she got an answer, she added, “No, wait. Lemme guess. Logan?”

“I’ve never met anybody so damn obsessed with his work.”

“Ah, ah,” Original Cindy said, raising her hand to touch her forehead like a woman in an old movie pretending to faint. “I think I’m having a déjà vu moment: Max complaining about her boy’s work.”

“It’s not funny.”

Original Cindy rolled her eyes. “Yes, boo, it is. You should see yourself. You found yourself a good specimen of the male species, somebody who’s actually tryin’ to do the right thing, and still you’re complaining.”

“But he’s doing too much. He’s working so much. You know, the Committee, the job training, the military withdrawal. He can’t let it slide! Nothing! Not once,” Max protested.

“Give your man a break. Don’t you see that he’s doing it all for you? The Committee, the job training scam…that’s all for you.”

“And I told him to let it slide. But no, of course he didn’t. When I left for work, he didn’t even have the time to say goodbye. How could he? He got an e-mail.”

“Maybe he was waitin’ on something really important.”

Original Cindy didn’t finish her sentence, because the pop music that was coming from the TV station suddenly stopped, replaced by the familiar sound that signaled the beginning of an Eyes Only cable hack.

“Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Streaming Freedom video bulletin. The cable hack will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left in this city. You’ve heard about the job training programs in the news and you’ve probably also heard that not all of them live up to their promises. If you’ve been scammed by a bogus job training organization, you can be sure that this woman was behind it."

Max and Original Cindy stepped closer in order to see the photo of the woman displayed in the middle of the Eyes Only mask on the TV screen.

“Harriet Short is responsible for many of the so-called job training schemes that misled aspiring trainees into believing they were being offered training for free, but which then demanded a large fee upon registration. Her aim is to discredit the President and undermine his authority. This must come to an end. Eyes Only will forward his information to the responsible authorities and make sure that appropriate measures are taken. This has been a Streaming Freedom video bulletin. Peace. Out.”

“See? That’s what I meant. He found the woman behind the job training scam. He’s helping all of us.”

“And I still tell you that he’s obsessed. For him, it’s not just about helping others, it’s…” Max couldn’t finish because Normal approached them with a bunch of packages.

“Hey, ladies. Ready to do some actual work? If so, it would be appreciated if you could deliver these packages. If not, it would be appreciated if you’d get out so I can hire someone who will actually work. So hurry up. Bip bip bip.”

“See you at Crash after work?” Original Cindy asked, rolling her eyes.

Max shook her head. “Nah, I should try figuring out Logan instead…”

“Maybe you two just need to bang the gong,” OC commented, a naughty grin on her face.

“Sounds like a plan,” Max answered dryly.

Cindy shrugged. “What about tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, why not? See ya.” Max answered over her shoulder, already pedaling away.

Lydecker’s Permanent HQ, northern Washington State – 9:10 AM

Donald Lydecker, a satisfied smile on his face, watched the Eyes Only hack. When the hack was over, he left the common room and returned to his office. On the way, he tapped Zack on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow. Lydecker whispered something in Zack’s ear. The X5 nodded. Lydecker continued to his office, while his second-in-command headed off in the opposite direction.

Outside the building, Zack met up with Zane.

“Wassup, brother?” Zane asked by way of greeting.

“Not much,” Zack replied, shaking his head.

“Yeah, not much is right.” Zane agreed, as they walked together down the sidewalk. “How boring is this? What happens when the rest of the Committee is taken down? Then who do we fight?”

“Don’t know. Who’d have thought that one day Manticore would be gone and the Committee on the short list to oblivion?” Zack thoughtfully kicked a stone into the grass.

“You planning to stay with Lydecker?” Zane eyed his older sibling with curiosity.

“Don’t know yet. Every other day I want to frag the bastard,” Zack answered plainly. “But he’s a good commander. I thought about hiring myself out, but…”

“…But Lydecker is the only commander we’ve ever had,” Zane finished for him.

“Yeah. I don’t even know if I’ll stay in Seattle. That wasn’t in my original plan.” Zack kicked another stone.

“Hey, none of this was in your plan. But stuff happens. I wasn’t planning to stick around either. I liked where I was, but this area is kinda growing on me. Maybe I’ll stay - find a place of my own – not here in the barracks like a soldier. Maybe I’ll find something else to do, too.”

They turned and walked into a plain, concrete building with rows of windows. As they parted in the doorway, Zack put his hand on Zane’s shoulder and said, “You know, little brother, whatever happens and wherever we end up, I’ll always have your back.”

“And I’ll have yours.” They parted, each going in the opposite direction from the other.

Checkpoint, Sector 3 – 11:00 AM

The police at the Sector 3 checkpoint were reinforcing the barricades that had been set up when the transfer of power took place. They were still being heckled by mobs of people behind the barricades. Several cops patrolled the checkpoint, rifles loaded. They glared at an unkempt, middle-aged man who kept shouting about replacing one repressive group with another.

“Hey, let’s show these jokers that we’re not repressive,” one of the patrol cops said in a joking tone of voice.

“How?” his partner replied.

“Open the barricades.”

“Are you nuts? That mob will trample us.”

“Maybe they’ll try. But we’ve got the weapons. Go ahead, open it.” The two of them pulled back the wooden barriers and barbed wire that constituted the barricade and opened it.

Things quickly got out of hand as the mob flowed through, pushing and shoving each other as well as the police. Several people were knocked down. A couple of them were trampled as the mob thrust through the checkpoint. The cops, who hadn’t yet been manhandled by the crowd, cocked their weapons and took aim. One of them radioed for help.

“This is what happens when you give the masses too much freedom,” the first cop said, aiming his rifle.

A voice over a bullhorn shouted, “Put down your weapons!” The voice repeated a moment later, “I said, ‘put down your weapons!’”

The cops put down their weapons as a police car pulled up. That made the mob pull back a little. Clemente unfolded himself from the front seat of the car and stood up. “Dammit! What is wrong with you people?” The mob dropped back, quiet. The cops looked at their feet. “I can’t leave you guys alone for a second without you wreaking havoc!

“And you people!” he shouted at the mob. “Don’t press your luck! Give us a while to get the situation under control before you try stupid stuff like this again. A lot of you could have been killed. Take care of your injured and don’t try it again!”

As the crowd dispersed, some tending to the wounded, Max rode by on her way from Jam Pony. She observed the aftermath of the short-lived riot, saw Clemente standing by his car, bullhorn still in hand, and smiled.

Clemente saw her and nodded and Max waved back at him. The police were replacing the wooden barriers to close the barricade. Max stopped, waiting for the checkpoint to be reestablished. Clemente stopped the set-up and waved Max through the checkpoint with a smile.

Penthouse – 6:00 PM

Max walked her bicycle into the elevator and pressed the button to go up to the penthouse. As usual, Logan was at his computer banks, deep in research. Max parked the bike out of the way, threw her backpack on the sofa and went over to him. She leaned over and said softly, “Hey, congratulations on your hack. I guess you heard they arrested Harriet Short. It’s been on the news all day long. Three down, two to go.”

Logan looked up at her. “Yeah, and those two are proving to be hard nuts to crack. I’ve been working all day on trying to track Lang and Selkirk down, but they’re really under the radar.” Logan shook his head and pushed himself away from the desk. “Damn, I need coffee.”

“You need a break,” Max said.

“Right.” Logan headed toward the kitchen.

“You do. You’ve been working on this all day.”

“Well, I’ll never find those guys if I don’t keep at it.” Logan was adamant.

“Come on, Logan. I’ll order Chinese. I’ll even pay for it.”

“Max – “ Logan began. He turned around and looked up at her with a “you know I’ve gotta do this” expression on his face.

Max rolled her eyes. “Logan, let’s just order Chinese. Light some candles, douse the lights, and have a romantic evening, just the two of us. No Lang, no Selkirk…”

“Max…” Logan protested. “I really think I’m on to something. I’m this close...” He held up his thumb and index finger, almost touching. “Matt Sung gave me some good information today. I’ve gotta finish checking it out.”

Max pouted prettily. “It can wait. Neither of those guys is going anywhere. Not with Eyes Only on their tails. I want to spend the evening with you and a big plate of kung pao chicken. I’ll even put on something lacy...”

Logan looked at her out of the corner of his eye and his lips twitched as if he were trying to repress a smile. “Something lacy,” he repeated, the corners of his mouth turning up. “And kung pao chicken? How could a man refuse?”

Undisclosed Location - 8:00 PM

Rex Selkirk paced unhappily, his military bearing not giving way to the stress he was so obviously under.

The other occupant of the expensively furnished hotel room, a thin elderly man with a bent nose and a head of white hair, sat hunched over his laptop, anxiously scanning the information he found there.

“It’s bad. Harriet arrested…McKenzie missing. We’re being picked off one by one,” he told the other man, nervously running a hand over his mouth. “Now that we’ve lost control over the transgenics, we need to exterminate the wretched things once and for all.”

Selkirk stopped his pacing and gave him an impatient glare. “Don’t be an idiot, Lang. It’s that damned Eyes Only and his self-righteous crusade who’s the biggest threat to you and me.”

Lang shook his head a little. “It’s dangerous to go after him. A man with a crusade …”

“Makes himself vulnerable,” finished Selkirk promptly, “because he’ll take unnecessary risks to achieve his aims.”

“How does that help us?” asked the other, still unconvinced.

“Vulnerability is what this is all about,” Selkirk murmured thoughtfully, his eyes taking on a distant look as the germ of an idea began to take hold.

“What are you talking about?” Lang asked irritably.

“We know that Eyes Only has a link to the X5 Max…”

Lang nodded impatiently.

“How interested would you be in a plan that would lead to the extermination of many of the transgenics, the capture of Max, and ultimately, the end of Eyes Only?”

The white-headed man looked thoughtful, then a slow smile began to spread across his thin lips.

“I’d say I’d be very interested.”

END OF ACT II

Act III