A Hazy Shade of Winter – Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

8:27pm

opening scene with alec wresting a gun from a potential assailant and then marvelling at how frighteningly easy it was to slip back into the persona, to become the cold, methodical killer he had grown to hate.

Greer with a smile, waved his gun randomly.

“What’s your name? I hate offing strangers. It’s so empty and meaningless.”

Alec considered his attacker. “Who cares? You’re the bad guy, right?”

Greer nodded, pleased. “I am the bad guy.”

Alec hid a grin. How predictable. “And I’m supposed to be trembling with fear, something like that?”

Greer’s lip curled in acknowledgement. “Something like that.”

Alec eyed the older man contemplatively and ventured, “Well, what do you think about role reversals?”

Greer was thrown by the question. “Huh?”

Without warning, Alec blurred, wrenched the gun from Greer and turned it on him. The cold, steel barrel rested heavily between the older man’s wide, frightened eyes. He offered a half-smile to the hunter-turned-prey.

“Still wanna get acquainted?”

4:31am

The call came in the wee hours of the morning while the city slumbered on, much like he would have liked to still be doing.

Alas, that was not to be. Reaching for his cell phone, Alec wished – not for the first time – that he could afford to turn his phone off at night, but Manticore conditioning and the past few years of siege and strife made it so that he just wasn’t comfortable taking the risk.

He sighed.

“This better be good,” he grunted into the mouthpiece, his eyes bleary with sleep.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Rolling his neck once, twice, to loosen his weary muscles, Alec’s shoulders drooped when he recognized the voice on the line. He should have known; who else would call him before the break of dawn? Everyone else respected his love of – and need for – sleep.

“Logan, don’t you own a clock?”

Pleasantries were overrated. (Apparently so was common decency.)

Alec’s lip curled at the sheer nerve. However, the urgency to Logan’s statement made Alec bite back the sarcastic retort that was on the tip of his tongue. Sarcasm wouldn’t change the fact that he was, indeed, now wide awake and that the other man obviously had something of import to impart.

Business mode it was.

“So, what’s the big bad at four-thirty-one a.m. on this chilly November Tuesday?”

Because there was always some crisis, some scumbag, borderline-schitzo, evil mastermind, crooked politician or whatever else was about to shake Seattle’s good citizens to their very core. And Logan was the champion for the underdogs fighting the good fight.

With reluctant, I-don’t-know-why-I-agreed-to-this-but-here-I-am recruits.

Such as himself.

Alec shook his head. The things he did for…well, the things he did, period. He had long ago ceased trying to make up for past mistakes. Alec’s decision to continue helping Logan was more about personal gain (stealing from bad guys was profitable – and easy) and the sliver of conscience he’d developed somewhere along the way. Besides, Logan wasn’t all bad; the guy just had rotten timing.

“I’d rather not discuss this on the phone. Can we meet?”

Frowning, Alec wondered at the secrecy. Usually by now Eyes Only would have been halfway through the spiel and Alec would be stifling a yawn. Something was up.

“Sure, yeah. I can be there in twenty.”

“Good.” Logan hesitated a beat, “Just don’t say anything to Max.

“And hurry.”

Staring at the now silent phone in his hand, Alec’s face reflected his perplexity. He was certain that Logan would not have roused him in the middle of the night for anything short of an emergency, but why the specific request to keep Max out of the loop?

He didn’t like keeping things from her. Their shared leadership role meant that he couldn’t afford to keep secrets from her. Heck, even his private life wasn’t private. The two were too much in tune, too connected and reliant upon each other to allow for secrets between them – and Logan was well aware of this.

So if her boyfriend thought there was good reason to keep whatever this was from Max, then Alec would trust his judgment.

For now.

4:52am

Logan Cale was once again living it up.

Once the madness had died down following the end of the siege of Terminal City and the months of negotiations that followed, Logan had found himself in charge of the donations made to the Transgenic cause. It turned out that the people of Seattle were much more receptive to the idea of human hybrids when said hybrids were willing to lay down their lives for humans.

Alec snorted and stepped on the gas. Of course it would take a sacrifice for the public to see them as something other than animals and abominations. Thankfully they hadn’t lost any of the Sixes, though it had been a close call.

A group of school children had been held at gunpoint by one of the city’s many dangerous gangs bent on some vendetta and a handful of X6s on their way home had been in the area, assessed the situation and diffused it with a handful of casualties (and thankfully none of them human or there would have been hell to pay.) The grateful public, mostly parents and guardians, as well as local politicians, couldn’t deny the selfless act – yet another thing to thank Max for, Alec thought with a wry smile – and so began the PTCL, or the Protection of Transgenic Civil Liberties movement.

Logan, as one of the first supporters of Transgenics, was appointed chairman and the organization had paid to transplant him from Terminal City and back into the comfort of the high-rise district, not two blocks from his former residence in Fogle Towers.

It made some kind of sense, Alec supposed, that being a party leader or the chairman of an important (as it had become such) organization demanded the kind of home where one could entertain the affluent and influential members of society and garner as much financial and political aid as possible.

He glanced at his watch before making a sharp turn onto 1st Avenue and glancing up at the tall buildings lining the upper-class neighborhood. The windows were dark, shades drawn and the street was silent save for the odd vagabond or stray wild dog. Only one window shone brightly from the residential towers a few hundred feet ahead to his right.

Pulling into the sub-level parking lot a couple minutes later, Alec secured his bike and straightened his jacket, dug his hands into his pockets and walked toward the elevator near the guard post. He flashed his visitor’s pass at the guard who waved him through.

“Sorry, sir, but the thing’s broken again,” the guard said, nodding towards the gleaming silver doors and the hastily scrawled ‘out of order’ sign posted above the call buttons.

Alec thanked the man. He knew that not even money could guarantee a working piece of machinery in these times. Sometimes he was thankful that he still lived in Terminal City. It might be a dump, but everything they got working, stayed working. Benefits of being all kinds of superior, he thought. Though, at times he envied Logan’s easy lifestyle. Alec could take a small measure of comfort at least, in the fact that even the wealthy had to work for their luxuries, even if only by way of climbing twenty-odd flights of stairs on a semi-regular basis.

Heaving a mental sigh, Alec entered the stairwell and began his ascent, taking the steps three at a time and before long found himself facing Logan’s door. He raised his hand to knock (some manners had finally rubbed off on him) but was surprised when the door swung open and a flustered Logan grabbed him by the collar and yanked him into the room, slamming the door behind him.

Annoyed with the other man’s manhandling, Alec jerked away and smoothed down his wrinkled jacket, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What is wrong with you?”

“You’re late.”

Alec let out a mirthless chuckle. “Be thankful that I’m here at all. I was in the middle of this really amazing dream where these two, busty-,”

Logan held his hands up. “Alright, I get the picture. I’m sorry for the cloak and dagger routine,” Alec glared and Logan added, “and the early hour, but it couldn’t wait.”

Alec leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. He stared at the cyber-hacker in silent encouragement.

“I got a call just after midnight.” Alec raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Logan continued, “From Lydecker.”

Alec shot up straight, fists clenched at his sides and fire in his eyes. “What did he want?” Alec growled.

“He had information for me.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed. Lydecker contacting Logan was never a good thing. He could picture it now; hushed tones, words that were undoubtedly cryptic, complicated mixed messages and heralding bad things to come.

Logan cleared his throat. “I didn’t trust the source-,”

“Obviously.”

“I figured the least I could do was find out where he was, maybe set up some surveillance or a tail.” Logan shook his head. “He warned me, said I’d lead them right to him.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad.”

“Yes! No. I don’t know. Because as soon as I locked on his location, someone moved in and I lost him.”

“Did he say what he wanted? Why he was trying to contact you?”

Logan sighed. “I should have listened…”

“You went with your gut and trust me, when it comes to Lydecker, going with your gut is a safe bet. The guy can’t be trusted.”

“Maybe not in general, but he has come through for us on occasion.”

Alec nodded. “I’ll give him that. He has his uses.” He watched Logan frown at the papers in his hands. “So.”

“Right. Well, it appears that he was on the level. He managed a file transfer before the connection was severed. I just wish I knew where he was because this…this is big, Alec. And aside from the data, I have no timeline projections, no idea of when this started or what plans may be in motion already and-,”

“Hey, hey! Calm down, man, you’re rambling.”

Logan collapsed onto the couch, slumped forward and ran a hand over his face wearily. Alec noted for the first time since arriving that Logan’s eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles and his face showed the beginnings of a six o’clock shadow. It was a wonder that Logan wasn’t a smoker or a drinker with all the stresses in his life.

“He warned me and I didn’t listen,” Logan stated yet again, this time at a higher pitch, words slightly uneven.

“Don’t beat  yourself up about it. It wasn’t a complete bust, right? So you’ll do a little more research or send me out instead.”

Logan shook his head ruefully. “You don’t understand! He was our only contact and  now he’s gone and I have a handful of incomplete data with no beginning and no end.”

“Come on, Logan. It’s Lydecker. Sure, he rarely has anything good to say; heck, impending apocalyptic doom is more his style, but really, what could have been so important that you wish you hadn’t doubted that back-stabbing pile of dung?”

“This.”

Logan slapped a folder against Alec’s chest. Taken aback, Alec grasped it with both hands and opened the cover, revealing a sheaf of fresh printouts of classified information which made his gut twist sharply.

“Where did you get this?” he asked in a pained whisper, thumbing through the documents, diagrams and graphs in disbelief.

Logan let him take it all in, waiting patiently as the younger man absorbed the full extent of the material in his hands.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, though, he realized, reading lists of specifications and detailed procedures and trying not to punch a hole through Logan’s wall. He had always known that there was a possibility that they would come back, that the nightmare he and his kind had lived for most of their young lives might never be over, that the danger had not passed. They had simply pretended they were free, but the evidence in his hand said otherwise. They would never be free. Not-

“Unless they’re destroyed from the very core.”

Alec’s eyes snapped to Logan’s. It was as if the other man had read his very mind.

“We need to tell Max. She has to know the danger.”

“No!”

Alec shot Logan a questioning look. “She’s the leader, Logan; she has to know.”

“No she doesn’t,” he argued, his voice cracking, “I can’t. Not again.”

The pain and fear in the older man’s voice was clear and Alec knew what he was afraid of; the couple had only recently cured the wretched virus that had kept them apart for the better part of three years. Logan had also watched Max die, held her in his arms as she breathed her last. Admittedly, Manticore had brought her back and she was as strong as – if not stronger than – ever, but seeing the one you love die, or just being left with the uncertainty of that person’s survival had almost killed him the first time. Logan couldn’t, wouldn’t do it again.

“We’ll do it together,” Alec reasoned, knowing that his Trangenic counterpart and closest friend was his perfect partner and that they’d never failed before when they’d worked as a team.

But Logan wasn’t having any of that.

“Keep reading and you’ll understand.”

Alec searched Logan’s face for…what, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t find it. He turned back to the document, eyes widening when he found the answers. Icy dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

“They have no intention of using us again,” the hushed statement left his lips involuntarily.

Logan nodded. “Their orders are to terminate on sight. All but-,”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t believe this. You said you got this from Lydecker? How can you trust it? What if it’s just a-,”

Logan sighed heavily. “It’s legit.” He paused a moment, staring unfocused through the window where the sun had begun creeping up over the skyline, staining the sky in morning blush. “I was tracing his location and he was right. I led them straight to him. He managed to send me these files before the connection died.”

Alec opened his mouth to speak but Logan stopped him. “I already checked; there was no way they could trace the transfer. We’re clean.”

Alec flipped through the last pages and sighed. “There’s so many of them.”

“They’re planning something, Alec. And we have no idea what that is, and no way of knowing how much time we have before they decide to take action.”

“But we have inside information,” Alec nodded at the list in his hands.

“Yes. We have that.”

The way Logan was pointedly looking at him drove it home. They had the list. They had the advantage. And they had the one person with the skill to make it happen.

Realization was not a pretty thing. He knew what it would mean to embrace that side of him once again, only this time it would be willingly, knowingly. Could he be…that, again? Reading the names at the top of the list, he steeled his resolve. The X5’s mouth set into a grim line and his eyes hardened with resolve and resignation. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“I’ll do it.”