Title: THE STEEL TRAP
Disclaimer: Dark Angel is owned by Charles Eglee, James Cameron, and Fox. I claim no rights to these characters, alas, although I like to play with them.
Episode Reference: Takes place immediately after Some Assembly Required
Rating: PG
Summary: A Logan Cale, Man of Action fic, complete with Steelheads and major bad guys
A/N: This is for Alaidh, who requested another LCMOA fic from me. Thanks to my betas, Alaidh and Kasman, for their insight.
I live for reviews. You know what to do
CHAPTER 1
Prologue
"Logan, are you sure you're OK?" Max asked, a concerned expression on her face. It was two days after Zack had attacked Logan with a machine gun in Logan's underground garage. "I really need to do this, but I've gotta be sure you're OK before I take off," she repeated. She was pacing back and forth in Logan's living room.
"I'm fine. I've just got a bruise on my hip from the impact of Zack's shot, but other than that, I'm OK," Logan assured her. His hip didn't hurt, or if it did, he couldn't tell anyway. "But I ruined a pair of pants where Zack shot up the exoskeleton. Can't repair those bullet holes."
"Well, no big loss there. They were seriously ugly pants." Max laughed. Then her face resumed its concerned expression. "I've got to leave for a few days. Just to reassure myself." She paused for a minute, then continued. "I know you promised me that Zack would be fine on the farm with Buddy and Mary, but I need to see for myself. I'll be back as soon as I can, but this is something I have to do. Zack will never know I'm there."
Logan looked at Max. "It's OK. I understand. I really do. Zack is your brother."
Her brother.
Max smiled at Logan, then picked up her jacket and left. He sat there, on the couch, for a while, rubbing his hip, almost unconsciously.
Chapter 1
The next morning, Logan awoke and stiffly transferred from the bed to the wheelchair. He wouldn't have admitted to Max how much pain he really was in, or she wouldn't have left to see to Zack. He knew the bruise was severe, just from the color of it, but he hadn't realized how such an injury could cause the pain to radiate from his hip to other parts of his body where he still had feeling. Even his head hurt. He hoped a long, hot shower would help in that department.
He wheeled himself into the bathroom and turned on the shower. A few minutes later, he was sitting under the hot, steamy spray, letting the warmth loosen his tight muscles. He thought about a workout, but decided to skip a day to give his hip time to heal.
Idly, he cast his mind back to the events of a few days ago, when Zack, programmed to eliminate Eyes Only, had chased him into the underground parking garage with a machine gun, and let loose. After riddling the Aztek with bullets, Zack had finally gotten in a good shot and nailed him. If not for the exoskeleton, Logan thought, he would have been seriously injured - or perhaps worse. He'd only been knocked off his feet. Luckily, Max had shown up just in time and had taken care of Zack.
Now, Logan mentally kicked himself for not being able to move quickly enough in the exoskeleton to retrieve Zack's weapon from where he had dropped it in his fight with Max. Maybe it was the shock of being shot and taken down again; maybe he was out of shape; maybe the exoskeleton was too much of a dead weight for him to drag. He didn't know. All he did know was that if not for Max, he would have been a dead man. He hadn't felt that helpless in a long time and he didn't like it one bit.
Maybe he'd been relying on the exoskeleton too much. He wore the contraption every day, even when he didn't need to, like around the penthouse. He had promised himself when he had first received the DOD surplus device and gotten it working again, that it was for "special" occasions only, not everyday use. But he had been so thrilled at being able to stand up and walk again that he had begun to take the exoskeleton for granted. Now the damn thing was broken, and he didn't know if it could be repaired.
Disgusted with himself, Logan turned off the water and got out of the shower, promising himself that he'd clean up his act. He looked in the mirror and didn't like what looked back at him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair shaggy and limp. He looked sick and tired. Maybe the events of the last few days had taken more out of him than he realized. He quickly shaved and brushed his teeth, determined to turn over a new leaf. He threw on a terry cloth robe and wheeled himself into the kitchen.
After breakfast, he made an appointment with his barber for a haircut. That was a start. Then he turned his attention to the shot-up exoskeleton. It wasn't in bad shape, considering, but it did need repairs that were beyond his skills. He decided to contact Sebastian to find out if any of his people could fix it.
Sebastian didn't know, but suggested that Logan drop it off and he would see what he could do. It seemed that Logan was going to be running a lot of errands, so he decided he'd log off and get started. His glasses slid down his nose again and annoyed, he pushed them back up.
"Where is my other pair?" he muttered to himself, rifling through the desk drawer. He came up empty, so he wheeled himself into the bedroom and opened the nightstand drawer. There they were, his favorite pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He took them out of the drawer to put them on, then remembered why he had relegated them to the nightstand in the first place. He'd cracked a lens when he dropped them during one of his forays up on the Space Needle. "Damn! Well, there's another errand to run."
Logan hastily dressed in jeans and a sweater. He'd thought about wearing the exoskeleton over to Sebastian's, but decided against it since the legs would no longer bend due to the damaged mechanism. He put the broken glasses in his pocket, wrestled the exoskeleton onto his lap, and carefully made his way out the door. The bulky contraption made it difficult for him to maneuver the wheelchair.
Somehow, he got to the car, then realized that he didn't know if the Aztek was still drivable. After all, Zack had riddled it with bullets. Logan examined the SUV; apparently just the body had been damaged. The doors had bullet holes across them and the rear driver's side window had been shot out. Other than that, it seemed to be OK. Luckily, the weather wasn't very cold for November, since in the wheelchair, Logan couldn't quite reach the top of the rear window to tape some plastic over it. He unlocked the hatch and stowed the exoskeleton. Then he clambered into the car and took off.
*****
A short drive took him to the medical facility where Sebastian lived. This time, he found an orderly to help him with the exoskeleton; between them, they managed to get it into Sebastian's quarters. Logan held it up and turned it so Sebastian could get a good look at the contraption.
"It doesn't look too bad, Logan," the synthesized voice said. "The chip hasn't been damaged."
"That's good," Logan replied. "So, you think your guys can repair it?"
"Yes, but it will take a while."
"A while? How long is a while?"
"I don't know," Sebastian tapped out on his head set. "A week at least. Maybe longer. Depends on whether my guys can get the parts."
Logan sighed. "OK. At least I don't have to get Max to steal another chip. Just let me know when it's done or if you need anything."
"Will do. Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"Ah, Zack tried to kill me. Hit the exoskeleton instead. You should see the car."
"Should I ask why Zack was trying to kill you? I thought he was - an ally, if not a friend," the synthesized voice asked.
"He was reprogrammed at Manticore to kill me, since the virus didn't get me."
"They must think you're a cat, you have so many lives."
"Yeah, beginning to run out, though," Logan admitted. "Thanks for your help."
"No problem. I'm always glad to help."
"Well, I gotta run a bunch of errands, so I'll catch ya later."
"Later," Sebastian said.
*****
Logan drove back toward town to run his other errands. He dropped his old glasses off at the optician's, figuring that he would pick them back up when he was finished with the haircut. He found a parking space almost in front of the barber's, next to the cut in the sidewalk. How lucky, he thought sarcastically as he dragged the chair out of the back seat and assembled it. He transferred into it and headed up the curb cut. One short step presented the only obstacle between Logan and the barbershop. He popped a wheelie to get up the step, thankful that he hadn't forgotten his wheeling skills.
"Hey, Logan," the barber said, looking up from his customer. "Whoa! You look like hell."
"Yeah, tell me about it." Logan wheeled himself over to the wall to wait until his barber was done. He locked the brakes and picked up an old magazine from the stack on a table next to the wall.
He'd finished reading a couple of articles when the barber called his name. "So, what'll it be, Logan?"
"The usual, Stan. I'm long overdue."
"Sure."
Half an hour later, looking very different, Logan left the barbershop. He went back to the optician's to pick up his glasses. Then, his errands for the day finished, he retreated to his apartment.
*****
Before Zack had so rudely interrupted his life, Logan had been trying to track down a bunch of Steelheads, whom an informant reported were selling stolen organs to China, making huge profits. He had asked Zack about them, since he had lived with them for a while, but that had triggered Zack's murderous program.
While the Steelheads were into monstrous metallic implants, they were surprisingly low-tech. Logan could find no reference to them at all on his informant net. Then he remembered something Max had mentioned, something about a run-in between Sketchy and some Steelheads. Obviously, the next order of business was to talk to Sketchy. That meant Jam Pony. Logan shut down the computer and headed off to the messenger service to find him.
Although located in the next sector, Jam Pony was only four blocks from Logan's apartment. He decided it was too close to drive, and the exercise would do him good. So he took the elevator to the lobby and left the building.
It was a beautiful day, sunny, with a slight breeze. Logan enjoyed the weather and tried not to think about Max, the virus, and Zack's attack on him. His shoulders were getting tired from the wheeling, but he continued without stopping until he got to the shabby warehouse where Jam Pony was housed.
He rolled down the ramp, as he had several times before, onto the main floor of Jam Pony. Normal leaned over the counter and looked down at Logan.
"Can I help you?" he asked, as impersonally as ever. That had always annoyed Logan
"Hey, Normal. How long have we known each other?" Logan looked up at the owner and proprietor.
"A year and a half or so, I guess. Why?"
"You still never say 'Good morning' or 'Hello' or even 'Hey!' to me. How come?"
"Mother of God!" Normal exclaimed. "Well, with you it's always business, isn't it, Logan? Never a social call - except for that time you picked Max up for that wedding. Speaking of which, where is Max today?"
"You remember - Sam, the messenger who worked for you briefly last year?" Logan asked.
"That major disappointment? The one who disappeared on me after one day? Sure, I remember him."
"Did Max ever tell you that he was her long-lost brother?"
"She may have mentioned it to me. So what?"
"He was, ah, taken ill suddenly - out of town. Max went there to be with him. She'll be back in a few days. It was an emergency - just happened last night."
"Yeah, well, if I had a buck for every lame excuse Max has made, I could retire. So, if you're not looking for Max, why are you here?"
"Looking for Sketchy this time."
"That stoner reprobate?" Normal snorted. "I think he's back in the locker area. Over there." He indicated with his thumb.
"Thanks." Logan spun around and headed toward the lockers, nearly running over Sky. He turned into the locker area indicated by Normal and found Sketchy leaning against his locker.
"Hey, Logan, wassup, man?" Sketchy looked like he was ripped, but then he always looked like that.
"Hey, Sketchy. Normal said you were back here."
"Yeah? Well, I ain't seen Max for a few days."
"I know. I'm not looking for Max. I'm looking for you."
"Me? What for?" Sketchy looked around suspiciously, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.
"I hear you had a run-in with the Steelheads. I'm looking for them. For Eyes Only."
Sketchy's eyes widened. "Hey, man, I don't want any more trouble with them. I was delivering a package for Alec. They didn't like him horning in on their territory. So they beat me up. If you want information on the Steelheads, talk to Alec."
"Is he around?" Logan asked, looking around, but not seeing Alec.
"Nah. He's on a run. Should be back shortly, though. You wanna wait?
"May as well. I'm not doing anything useful right now."
"Can I get yah a cup of coffee - or the swill that passes for coffee around here?" Sketchy offered.
"Thanks, Sketchy." Logan rolled over next to the bench in the locker area and locked his brakes.
Sketchy disappeared for a few minutes, then reappeared with a couple of paper cups of coffee. He sat down on the bench, next to Logan.
"What's up with the Steelheads?" he asked.
"They're bad guys doing bad things. Eyes Only is investigating them. What was in the package you were delivering that made them work you over?" Logan sipped the coffee and decided that Sketchy was right - it was swill.
"Uh, 'andy' - " Sketchy admitted.
"Steroids? Alec was peddling steroids?" Logan laughed. "It figures."
"Yeah, and he asked me to deliver the package 'cos he had to run another errand."
"Well, at least it looks like no lasting damage was done."
"Yeah, and Alec laid the smackdown on them later, so it all worked out."
"Hmmm." Logan nodded.
"So, where's Max?"
"Um, she had a family emergency and had to be out of town for a few days. She'll be back soon. I spoke to Normal about it."
"Cool. You're a lucky man, Logan. Max is such a hot chick," Sketchy stated enviously.
"Yeah, I am." Logan sighed deeply. He assumed that Sketchy didn't know about the virus and that he and Max couldn't touch one another.
They sat in silence for a while. Then Alec arrived, almost with a fanfare from Normal, who announced to him that his fan club awaited. Alec, a puzzled expression on his face, parked his bike and walked into the locker area. He stopped abruptly when he spotted Logan.
He approached Logan and patted him on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy, what's up?"
Logan twisted around to glare at him. Alec removed his hand.
"Sketchy here tells me you know where the Steelheads hang out. I'm working on an investigation for Eyes Only."
"Logan, ol' buddy, you don't want to mess with those guys," Alec advised. "British Eddie and his crew will slice and dice you."
"I'm not planning to mess with them. I just need to know where they hang. I'll let other people mess with them," Logan promised.
Sketchy, even in his usually foggy state, realized that what was about to take place was a private conversation, and that he should leave and let Logan and Alec get on with it. Much as he wanted to stick around and hear what Eyes Only, his personal hero, was up to, he knew that Alec would probably kick his ass if he hung around. Sketchy would have given a very important piece of his anatomy to be able to work for Eyes Only, like Logan did. Reluctantly, he got up from the bench, mumbled something vague about a delivery, and left the locker area, idly wondering if Logan had ended up in the wheelchair because of the work he did for Eyes Only.
Once they were alone, Alec stressed again how dangerous the Steelheads were.
'Hey, they even give me the creeps, and I've beaten up on them a time or two. You can't possibly hope to go up against them, especially - " Alec paused, as if he didn't know how to continue.
"Especially.?" Logan repeated, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Alec drew a deep breath. "Especially, ah, on wheels. What happened to the exo-thingy? I haven't seen you without it in a long time."
"It's in the shop for repairs," Logan said sarcastically. "So I'll have to be on wheels for a while."
"Well, if you need any help - a little ass-kicking, intimidation, that sort of thing, I'm your man."
"Thanks. I'll keep your offer in mind," Logan replied. "Now, tell me, where do these guys hang out?"
*****
Armed with the information he had been seeking, Logan went back to his penthouse to plot his strategy. A plan was forming in his mind. Naturally, it was dangerous, especially with Max unavailable for backup. He wasn't sure he could really count on, or trust, Alec, so he figured that solo would be best. Wistfully, Logan hoped the exoskeleton could be repaired quickly, but he couldn't count on that either; he'd have to go it alone, and in the wheelchair. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.
Mental visions of himself being thrown off the roof of the Steinlitz Hotel and being bitch-slapped by Gerhardt Bronck assailed him as he sat at the computer calling up data on black market organ sales. He wouldn't have Max around to save his sorry crippled ass this time, so his plan had better be good.
Revitalized and excited, Logan worked late into the night, researching and planning. Not only was he going to take down a nasty bunch of people who preyed on the sick and dying, but he was going to take his mind off Zack's betrayal, the virus from hell, and Max's mood swings in reaction to it.
When he finally fell into bed, he slept deeply, satisfied that he had a strategy to locate and take down the nasty little metal-implant loving gangsters who were robbing the dying of a chance for a new life.
Disclaimer: Dark Angel is owned by Charles Eglee, James Cameron, and Fox. I claim no rights to these characters, alas, although I like to play with them.
Episode Reference: Takes place immediately after Some Assembly Required
Rating: PG
Summary: A Logan Cale, Man of Action fic, complete with Steelheads and major bad guys
A/N: This is for Alaidh, who requested another LCMOA fic from me. Thanks to my betas, Alaidh and Kasman, for their insight.
I live for reviews. You know what to do
CHAPTER 1
Prologue
"Logan, are you sure you're OK?" Max asked, a concerned expression on her face. It was two days after Zack had attacked Logan with a machine gun in Logan's underground garage. "I really need to do this, but I've gotta be sure you're OK before I take off," she repeated. She was pacing back and forth in Logan's living room.
"I'm fine. I've just got a bruise on my hip from the impact of Zack's shot, but other than that, I'm OK," Logan assured her. His hip didn't hurt, or if it did, he couldn't tell anyway. "But I ruined a pair of pants where Zack shot up the exoskeleton. Can't repair those bullet holes."
"Well, no big loss there. They were seriously ugly pants." Max laughed. Then her face resumed its concerned expression. "I've got to leave for a few days. Just to reassure myself." She paused for a minute, then continued. "I know you promised me that Zack would be fine on the farm with Buddy and Mary, but I need to see for myself. I'll be back as soon as I can, but this is something I have to do. Zack will never know I'm there."
Logan looked at Max. "It's OK. I understand. I really do. Zack is your brother."
Her brother.
Max smiled at Logan, then picked up her jacket and left. He sat there, on the couch, for a while, rubbing his hip, almost unconsciously.
Chapter 1
The next morning, Logan awoke and stiffly transferred from the bed to the wheelchair. He wouldn't have admitted to Max how much pain he really was in, or she wouldn't have left to see to Zack. He knew the bruise was severe, just from the color of it, but he hadn't realized how such an injury could cause the pain to radiate from his hip to other parts of his body where he still had feeling. Even his head hurt. He hoped a long, hot shower would help in that department.
He wheeled himself into the bathroom and turned on the shower. A few minutes later, he was sitting under the hot, steamy spray, letting the warmth loosen his tight muscles. He thought about a workout, but decided to skip a day to give his hip time to heal.
Idly, he cast his mind back to the events of a few days ago, when Zack, programmed to eliminate Eyes Only, had chased him into the underground parking garage with a machine gun, and let loose. After riddling the Aztek with bullets, Zack had finally gotten in a good shot and nailed him. If not for the exoskeleton, Logan thought, he would have been seriously injured - or perhaps worse. He'd only been knocked off his feet. Luckily, Max had shown up just in time and had taken care of Zack.
Now, Logan mentally kicked himself for not being able to move quickly enough in the exoskeleton to retrieve Zack's weapon from where he had dropped it in his fight with Max. Maybe it was the shock of being shot and taken down again; maybe he was out of shape; maybe the exoskeleton was too much of a dead weight for him to drag. He didn't know. All he did know was that if not for Max, he would have been a dead man. He hadn't felt that helpless in a long time and he didn't like it one bit.
Maybe he'd been relying on the exoskeleton too much. He wore the contraption every day, even when he didn't need to, like around the penthouse. He had promised himself when he had first received the DOD surplus device and gotten it working again, that it was for "special" occasions only, not everyday use. But he had been so thrilled at being able to stand up and walk again that he had begun to take the exoskeleton for granted. Now the damn thing was broken, and he didn't know if it could be repaired.
Disgusted with himself, Logan turned off the water and got out of the shower, promising himself that he'd clean up his act. He looked in the mirror and didn't like what looked back at him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair shaggy and limp. He looked sick and tired. Maybe the events of the last few days had taken more out of him than he realized. He quickly shaved and brushed his teeth, determined to turn over a new leaf. He threw on a terry cloth robe and wheeled himself into the kitchen.
After breakfast, he made an appointment with his barber for a haircut. That was a start. Then he turned his attention to the shot-up exoskeleton. It wasn't in bad shape, considering, but it did need repairs that were beyond his skills. He decided to contact Sebastian to find out if any of his people could fix it.
Sebastian didn't know, but suggested that Logan drop it off and he would see what he could do. It seemed that Logan was going to be running a lot of errands, so he decided he'd log off and get started. His glasses slid down his nose again and annoyed, he pushed them back up.
"Where is my other pair?" he muttered to himself, rifling through the desk drawer. He came up empty, so he wheeled himself into the bedroom and opened the nightstand drawer. There they were, his favorite pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He took them out of the drawer to put them on, then remembered why he had relegated them to the nightstand in the first place. He'd cracked a lens when he dropped them during one of his forays up on the Space Needle. "Damn! Well, there's another errand to run."
Logan hastily dressed in jeans and a sweater. He'd thought about wearing the exoskeleton over to Sebastian's, but decided against it since the legs would no longer bend due to the damaged mechanism. He put the broken glasses in his pocket, wrestled the exoskeleton onto his lap, and carefully made his way out the door. The bulky contraption made it difficult for him to maneuver the wheelchair.
Somehow, he got to the car, then realized that he didn't know if the Aztek was still drivable. After all, Zack had riddled it with bullets. Logan examined the SUV; apparently just the body had been damaged. The doors had bullet holes across them and the rear driver's side window had been shot out. Other than that, it seemed to be OK. Luckily, the weather wasn't very cold for November, since in the wheelchair, Logan couldn't quite reach the top of the rear window to tape some plastic over it. He unlocked the hatch and stowed the exoskeleton. Then he clambered into the car and took off.
*****
A short drive took him to the medical facility where Sebastian lived. This time, he found an orderly to help him with the exoskeleton; between them, they managed to get it into Sebastian's quarters. Logan held it up and turned it so Sebastian could get a good look at the contraption.
"It doesn't look too bad, Logan," the synthesized voice said. "The chip hasn't been damaged."
"That's good," Logan replied. "So, you think your guys can repair it?"
"Yes, but it will take a while."
"A while? How long is a while?"
"I don't know," Sebastian tapped out on his head set. "A week at least. Maybe longer. Depends on whether my guys can get the parts."
Logan sighed. "OK. At least I don't have to get Max to steal another chip. Just let me know when it's done or if you need anything."
"Will do. Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"Ah, Zack tried to kill me. Hit the exoskeleton instead. You should see the car."
"Should I ask why Zack was trying to kill you? I thought he was - an ally, if not a friend," the synthesized voice asked.
"He was reprogrammed at Manticore to kill me, since the virus didn't get me."
"They must think you're a cat, you have so many lives."
"Yeah, beginning to run out, though," Logan admitted. "Thanks for your help."
"No problem. I'm always glad to help."
"Well, I gotta run a bunch of errands, so I'll catch ya later."
"Later," Sebastian said.
*****
Logan drove back toward town to run his other errands. He dropped his old glasses off at the optician's, figuring that he would pick them back up when he was finished with the haircut. He found a parking space almost in front of the barber's, next to the cut in the sidewalk. How lucky, he thought sarcastically as he dragged the chair out of the back seat and assembled it. He transferred into it and headed up the curb cut. One short step presented the only obstacle between Logan and the barbershop. He popped a wheelie to get up the step, thankful that he hadn't forgotten his wheeling skills.
"Hey, Logan," the barber said, looking up from his customer. "Whoa! You look like hell."
"Yeah, tell me about it." Logan wheeled himself over to the wall to wait until his barber was done. He locked the brakes and picked up an old magazine from the stack on a table next to the wall.
He'd finished reading a couple of articles when the barber called his name. "So, what'll it be, Logan?"
"The usual, Stan. I'm long overdue."
"Sure."
Half an hour later, looking very different, Logan left the barbershop. He went back to the optician's to pick up his glasses. Then, his errands for the day finished, he retreated to his apartment.
*****
Before Zack had so rudely interrupted his life, Logan had been trying to track down a bunch of Steelheads, whom an informant reported were selling stolen organs to China, making huge profits. He had asked Zack about them, since he had lived with them for a while, but that had triggered Zack's murderous program.
While the Steelheads were into monstrous metallic implants, they were surprisingly low-tech. Logan could find no reference to them at all on his informant net. Then he remembered something Max had mentioned, something about a run-in between Sketchy and some Steelheads. Obviously, the next order of business was to talk to Sketchy. That meant Jam Pony. Logan shut down the computer and headed off to the messenger service to find him.
Although located in the next sector, Jam Pony was only four blocks from Logan's apartment. He decided it was too close to drive, and the exercise would do him good. So he took the elevator to the lobby and left the building.
It was a beautiful day, sunny, with a slight breeze. Logan enjoyed the weather and tried not to think about Max, the virus, and Zack's attack on him. His shoulders were getting tired from the wheeling, but he continued without stopping until he got to the shabby warehouse where Jam Pony was housed.
He rolled down the ramp, as he had several times before, onto the main floor of Jam Pony. Normal leaned over the counter and looked down at Logan.
"Can I help you?" he asked, as impersonally as ever. That had always annoyed Logan
"Hey, Normal. How long have we known each other?" Logan looked up at the owner and proprietor.
"A year and a half or so, I guess. Why?"
"You still never say 'Good morning' or 'Hello' or even 'Hey!' to me. How come?"
"Mother of God!" Normal exclaimed. "Well, with you it's always business, isn't it, Logan? Never a social call - except for that time you picked Max up for that wedding. Speaking of which, where is Max today?"
"You remember - Sam, the messenger who worked for you briefly last year?" Logan asked.
"That major disappointment? The one who disappeared on me after one day? Sure, I remember him."
"Did Max ever tell you that he was her long-lost brother?"
"She may have mentioned it to me. So what?"
"He was, ah, taken ill suddenly - out of town. Max went there to be with him. She'll be back in a few days. It was an emergency - just happened last night."
"Yeah, well, if I had a buck for every lame excuse Max has made, I could retire. So, if you're not looking for Max, why are you here?"
"Looking for Sketchy this time."
"That stoner reprobate?" Normal snorted. "I think he's back in the locker area. Over there." He indicated with his thumb.
"Thanks." Logan spun around and headed toward the lockers, nearly running over Sky. He turned into the locker area indicated by Normal and found Sketchy leaning against his locker.
"Hey, Logan, wassup, man?" Sketchy looked like he was ripped, but then he always looked like that.
"Hey, Sketchy. Normal said you were back here."
"Yeah? Well, I ain't seen Max for a few days."
"I know. I'm not looking for Max. I'm looking for you."
"Me? What for?" Sketchy looked around suspiciously, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.
"I hear you had a run-in with the Steelheads. I'm looking for them. For Eyes Only."
Sketchy's eyes widened. "Hey, man, I don't want any more trouble with them. I was delivering a package for Alec. They didn't like him horning in on their territory. So they beat me up. If you want information on the Steelheads, talk to Alec."
"Is he around?" Logan asked, looking around, but not seeing Alec.
"Nah. He's on a run. Should be back shortly, though. You wanna wait?
"May as well. I'm not doing anything useful right now."
"Can I get yah a cup of coffee - or the swill that passes for coffee around here?" Sketchy offered.
"Thanks, Sketchy." Logan rolled over next to the bench in the locker area and locked his brakes.
Sketchy disappeared for a few minutes, then reappeared with a couple of paper cups of coffee. He sat down on the bench, next to Logan.
"What's up with the Steelheads?" he asked.
"They're bad guys doing bad things. Eyes Only is investigating them. What was in the package you were delivering that made them work you over?" Logan sipped the coffee and decided that Sketchy was right - it was swill.
"Uh, 'andy' - " Sketchy admitted.
"Steroids? Alec was peddling steroids?" Logan laughed. "It figures."
"Yeah, and he asked me to deliver the package 'cos he had to run another errand."
"Well, at least it looks like no lasting damage was done."
"Yeah, and Alec laid the smackdown on them later, so it all worked out."
"Hmmm." Logan nodded.
"So, where's Max?"
"Um, she had a family emergency and had to be out of town for a few days. She'll be back soon. I spoke to Normal about it."
"Cool. You're a lucky man, Logan. Max is such a hot chick," Sketchy stated enviously.
"Yeah, I am." Logan sighed deeply. He assumed that Sketchy didn't know about the virus and that he and Max couldn't touch one another.
They sat in silence for a while. Then Alec arrived, almost with a fanfare from Normal, who announced to him that his fan club awaited. Alec, a puzzled expression on his face, parked his bike and walked into the locker area. He stopped abruptly when he spotted Logan.
He approached Logan and patted him on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy, what's up?"
Logan twisted around to glare at him. Alec removed his hand.
"Sketchy here tells me you know where the Steelheads hang out. I'm working on an investigation for Eyes Only."
"Logan, ol' buddy, you don't want to mess with those guys," Alec advised. "British Eddie and his crew will slice and dice you."
"I'm not planning to mess with them. I just need to know where they hang. I'll let other people mess with them," Logan promised.
Sketchy, even in his usually foggy state, realized that what was about to take place was a private conversation, and that he should leave and let Logan and Alec get on with it. Much as he wanted to stick around and hear what Eyes Only, his personal hero, was up to, he knew that Alec would probably kick his ass if he hung around. Sketchy would have given a very important piece of his anatomy to be able to work for Eyes Only, like Logan did. Reluctantly, he got up from the bench, mumbled something vague about a delivery, and left the locker area, idly wondering if Logan had ended up in the wheelchair because of the work he did for Eyes Only.
Once they were alone, Alec stressed again how dangerous the Steelheads were.
'Hey, they even give me the creeps, and I've beaten up on them a time or two. You can't possibly hope to go up against them, especially - " Alec paused, as if he didn't know how to continue.
"Especially.?" Logan repeated, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Alec drew a deep breath. "Especially, ah, on wheels. What happened to the exo-thingy? I haven't seen you without it in a long time."
"It's in the shop for repairs," Logan said sarcastically. "So I'll have to be on wheels for a while."
"Well, if you need any help - a little ass-kicking, intimidation, that sort of thing, I'm your man."
"Thanks. I'll keep your offer in mind," Logan replied. "Now, tell me, where do these guys hang out?"
*****
Armed with the information he had been seeking, Logan went back to his penthouse to plot his strategy. A plan was forming in his mind. Naturally, it was dangerous, especially with Max unavailable for backup. He wasn't sure he could really count on, or trust, Alec, so he figured that solo would be best. Wistfully, Logan hoped the exoskeleton could be repaired quickly, but he couldn't count on that either; he'd have to go it alone, and in the wheelchair. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.
Mental visions of himself being thrown off the roof of the Steinlitz Hotel and being bitch-slapped by Gerhardt Bronck assailed him as he sat at the computer calling up data on black market organ sales. He wouldn't have Max around to save his sorry crippled ass this time, so his plan had better be good.
Revitalized and excited, Logan worked late into the night, researching and planning. Not only was he going to take down a nasty bunch of people who preyed on the sick and dying, but he was going to take his mind off Zack's betrayal, the virus from hell, and Max's mood swings in reaction to it.
When he finally fell into bed, he slept deeply, satisfied that he had a strategy to locate and take down the nasty little metal-implant loving gangsters who were robbing the dying of a chance for a new life.