Alex Haley
- 4 days earlier -
- 4 days earlier -
-1-
On the bullet train back to the Sprawl, Alex Haley has a singular focus; getting back to Arkham Academy. He plans exactly what he needs to do and how. He creates a backup plan and a fall back plan and goes over them on repeat during the 10 hour ride from neo-luddite land to Ft. Perch.
The high speed bullet train arrives ahead of schedule at 5:37AM.
It takes him a moment to adjust to walking the streets without looking down for Grayson or Luce. He hadn’t been out in public by himself in at least six years.
Keeping to his plan, he goes straight to Ft. Perch Metropolitan Medical Square, scans himself into the employee elevator and goes down to the Palliative Care Unit’s employee locker room. The locker room was usually empty since the Palliative Care unit was fairly regimented and staff rarely had unplanned clothing changes.
He scans his retina to open the little ventilated turquoise box that served as his locker, quickly changes from street clothes into his spare pink scrubs and pockets the 400 ml of adrenaline he kept rolled in a sock in the back of his locker.
He didn’t want to do this.
In the beginning, when he first got released from Ft. Pride, all he’d wanted was for Kenneth Maxwell to die. But as the years had passed his vengeance lost some of its teeth. He'd wanted justice. For Maxwell to be punished, not killed. Luce hardly understood the difference between those.
Haley heads back upstairs and hovers near the hallway that led to Bright Seas. He loiters for nearly an hour until he spots a pair of technicians from the Bioware Tech Office wheeling a new adaptive system towards Bright Seas’ doors.
He pauses a beat and then follows quickly behind the technicians.
“Excuse me, I need to see your ID—,” Danny, the receptionist says as Haley attempts to breeze through Bright Sea’s reception area.
“Cool. Yeah, I’m sorry I….I guess I didn’t recognize you with your hair down,” Danny apologizes. “I didn’t realize it was so long…it’s really nice.”
“Thank you, Danny,” he says taking a rubber band off the reception desk and pulling his hair back with it. “Nice to see you.”
The receptionist doesn’t return his pleasantry but stares bemused.
“Whoa…When did you get that ?,”
Haley’s catches his reflection in the mirror posted near the reception desk that allowed Danny to see the people sitting in the back of the waiting room.
With his hair now pulled back ,the string of roman numerals Maxwell had tattooed behind his ear to represent their time together were clearly visible. The ink was still vibrant and dark against his skin, even decades later. It was almost fitting he didn’t have the makeup he usually wore to cover the tattoos.
He gives Danny a reassuring smile.
“I’ve always had it,” he shrugs and pushes through the door open to the residential facility.
It’s early, most of the residents are still in bed and he quickly walks to Maxwell’s room to avoid detection by the nurse on duty.
The two techs are already working diligently in tandem as they connect Maxwell to the new machine.
The moment Haley has the door closed behind him, Maxwell’s content expression turns to alarm. He had a breathing tube that made it so he couldn’t talk but he begins to grunt hoarsely. His eyes blink rapidly and he bangs his head against the pillow to get the technician’s attention.
But the technicians barely look up—they only work faster setting up the system. Most of the techs didn’t like working with patients. They preferred the comfort of their state of the art lab that took up the entire 12th floor. They have the entire system nearly set up and Haley watches as one of them goes for the boot up switch.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Haley says and they both look up noticing him in the room for the first time. “I need to be alone with Mr. Maxwell.”
Maxwell’s attempts at screams get louder, the technicians jump at the sound and Haley pretends to look concerned about it.
“We’re almost out,” the female technician tells him. “Just need to turn it on and go through the set up commands--,”
“I can do the set up commands and test it,” Haley offers. “I’ve done it plenty of times.”
Maxwell’s screams turns to agonizing guttural grunts.
“Um, policy says the installers have to certify the commands--,” the other tech explains.
“Oh. I didn’t know that. I understand,” Haley says, walking across the room to pull a fresh pair of latex gloves from the cabinet. “Mr. Maxwell is on a very strict bowel schedue. I’m a little late and that’s why he’s so agitated. I’ll just take care of him while you certify the machine works.”
The technicians don’t bother to pretend to think about. They leave Haley with their information and instructions to confirm the system is working properly before rushing from the room.
Haley watches the door close behind the technicians and turns back to the man in the bed. Maxwell’s face has turned red with his effort and thick tears stream down his face.
Haley sits on the bed next to him and Maxwell stops making noises, opting instead for a hateful stare.
He loved the contempt in Maxwell’s eyes.
He picks up a washcloth from the beside table and wipes the tears from Maxwell’s face.
“I’m sorry,” Haley murmurs softly. “You really thought you were getting out of here today, didn’t you ? Well…you might be. Things are complicated right now and Luce says I have to make you no longer an issue. I have a big dose of adrenaline in my pocket to inject in your heart. It’ll make it look like heart failure. I don’t think you’ll even feel much.”
Maxwell’s face stills and then relaxes into contentment just like Haley knew it would. Maxwell wanted to die, he’d wanted it from the very beginning of his forced imprisonment at Bright Seas.
“Look what I got you,” Haley continues, taking a small a whiskey bottle out of his pocket. He’d picked it from the train mini bar as he disembarked.
He holds the bottle up and lets Maxwell watch as he breaks the seal on the bottle. He sticks his gloved pinky finger into the bottle and then holds it over to Maxwell’s lips. Maxwell presses his lips tightly and lets the amber liquid drips over his sealed lips and dribble down his chin.
“It’s just your favorite whiskey,” Haley tells him. “I opened the seal it in front of you for a reason. Didn't want you to think I pissed or came in it. I have no idea what kind of disgusting monster would even think of doing that to another person. Come on Maxwell....how long has it been since you’ve had a proper drink ?”
He keeps his words soft and even, trying to keep the upper hand.
Haley dips his finger back into the bottle and this time Maxwell’s lips part, accepting the drops of liquor complacently and then laping greedily at Haley's finger.
“How about some last words ?,” Haley asks.
He reaches across the bed and with practiced fingers disassembles and removes the breathing tube in Maxwell’s neck. Despite what his chart said, Maxwell didn’t actually need the breathing tube---it just helped kept him from talking with his mouth.
“I...I—I—‘m sorry,” Maxwell croaks, his voice hoarse and thin fromdisuse. “For what I did to you. Please I—I-I-I’ve had enough. I won’t bother you….I just want to go home. Please. Please.”
Haley opens the cabinet above Maxwell’s head and takes out a squeeze bottle of water. He uses it to wet a medical sponge and dabs it lightly inside Maxwell’s dry mouth and along his cracked lips.
“You’re sorry ? Do you even remember Ft. Pride--,” Haley starts.
“Haley—I am so sorry,” he apologizes again, his voice still raspy but less painful sounding. Maxwell makes small unsuccessful attempt to lift his head. “Please forgive me—I’m sorry for what I did.”
“I don’t forgive you. I'll never forgive you.” Haley says forcing Maxwell’s head back and reaching for the breathing tube. “You wasted your last words--”
“I hear you have a son.” Maxwell says quickly.
Haley frowns.
He’d never once mentioned Grayson in Maxwell's presence. He wanted Maxwell in the dark about his personal life. He’d made a choice to separate the ugliness of his past with the newer, better parts of his life. But the other nurses and assistants talked around patients, not realizing an offhand comment would mean so much.
He hated that even now, after all these years, Maxwell could still throw him off.
In the beginning, when he first got released from Ft. Pride, all he’d wanted was for Kenneth Maxwell to die. But as the years had passed his vengeance lost some of its teeth. He'd wanted justice. For Maxwell to be punished, not killed. Luce hardly understood the difference between those.
Haley heads back upstairs and hovers near the hallway that led to Bright Seas. He loiters for nearly an hour until he spots a pair of technicians from the Bioware Tech Office wheeling a new adaptive system towards Bright Seas’ doors.
He pauses a beat and then follows quickly behind the technicians.
“Excuse me, I need to see your ID—,” Danny, the receptionist says as Haley attempts to breeze through Bright Sea’s reception area.
“It’s me, Danny,” Haley smiles, easily disarming the man. “I’m just visiting. I promised one of the pediatric residents I’d give him a toy he wanted that Grayson doesn’t play with anymore.”
“Thank you, Danny,” he says taking a rubber band off the reception desk and pulling his hair back with it. “Nice to see you.”
The receptionist doesn’t return his pleasantry but stares bemused.
“Whoa…When did you get that ?,”
Haley’s catches his reflection in the mirror posted near the reception desk that allowed Danny to see the people sitting in the back of the waiting room.
With his hair now pulled back ,the string of roman numerals Maxwell had tattooed behind his ear to represent their time together were clearly visible. The ink was still vibrant and dark against his skin, even decades later. It was almost fitting he didn’t have the makeup he usually wore to cover the tattoos.
He gives Danny a reassuring smile.
“I’ve always had it,” he shrugs and pushes through the door open to the residential facility.
It’s early, most of the residents are still in bed and he quickly walks to Maxwell’s room to avoid detection by the nurse on duty.
The two techs are already working diligently in tandem as they connect Maxwell to the new machine.
The moment Haley has the door closed behind him, Maxwell’s content expression turns to alarm. He had a breathing tube that made it so he couldn’t talk but he begins to grunt hoarsely. His eyes blink rapidly and he bangs his head against the pillow to get the technician’s attention.
But the technicians barely look up—they only work faster setting up the system. Most of the techs didn’t like working with patients. They preferred the comfort of their state of the art lab that took up the entire 12th floor. They have the entire system nearly set up and Haley watches as one of them goes for the boot up switch.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Haley says and they both look up noticing him in the room for the first time. “I need to be alone with Mr. Maxwell.”
Maxwell’s attempts at screams get louder, the technicians jump at the sound and Haley pretends to look concerned about it.
“We’re almost out,” the female technician tells him. “Just need to turn it on and go through the set up commands--,”
“I can do the set up commands and test it,” Haley offers. “I’ve done it plenty of times.”
Maxwell’s screams turns to agonizing guttural grunts.
“Um, policy says the installers have to certify the commands--,” the other tech explains.
“Oh. I didn’t know that. I understand,” Haley says, walking across the room to pull a fresh pair of latex gloves from the cabinet. “Mr. Maxwell is on a very strict bowel schedue. I’m a little late and that’s why he’s so agitated. I’ll just take care of him while you certify the machine works.”
The technicians don’t bother to pretend to think about. They leave Haley with their information and instructions to confirm the system is working properly before rushing from the room.
Haley watches the door close behind the technicians and turns back to the man in the bed. Maxwell’s face has turned red with his effort and thick tears stream down his face.
Haley sits on the bed next to him and Maxwell stops making noises, opting instead for a hateful stare.
He loved the contempt in Maxwell’s eyes.
He picks up a washcloth from the beside table and wipes the tears from Maxwell’s face.
“I’m sorry,” Haley murmurs softly. “You really thought you were getting out of here today, didn’t you ? Well…you might be. Things are complicated right now and Luce says I have to make you no longer an issue. I have a big dose of adrenaline in my pocket to inject in your heart. It’ll make it look like heart failure. I don’t think you’ll even feel much.”
Maxwell’s face stills and then relaxes into contentment just like Haley knew it would. Maxwell wanted to die, he’d wanted it from the very beginning of his forced imprisonment at Bright Seas.
“Look what I got you,” Haley continues, taking a small a whiskey bottle out of his pocket. He’d picked it from the train mini bar as he disembarked.
He holds the bottle up and lets Maxwell watch as he breaks the seal on the bottle. He sticks his gloved pinky finger into the bottle and then holds it over to Maxwell’s lips. Maxwell presses his lips tightly and lets the amber liquid drips over his sealed lips and dribble down his chin.
“It’s just your favorite whiskey,” Haley tells him. “I opened the seal it in front of you for a reason. Didn't want you to think I pissed or came in it. I have no idea what kind of disgusting monster would even think of doing that to another person. Come on Maxwell....how long has it been since you’ve had a proper drink ?”
He keeps his words soft and even, trying to keep the upper hand.
Haley dips his finger back into the bottle and this time Maxwell’s lips part, accepting the drops of liquor complacently and then laping greedily at Haley's finger.
“How about some last words ?,” Haley asks.
He reaches across the bed and with practiced fingers disassembles and removes the breathing tube in Maxwell’s neck. Despite what his chart said, Maxwell didn’t actually need the breathing tube---it just helped kept him from talking with his mouth.
“I...I—I—‘m sorry,” Maxwell croaks, his voice hoarse and thin fromdisuse. “For what I did to you. Please I—I-I-I’ve had enough. I won’t bother you….I just want to go home. Please. Please.”
Haley opens the cabinet above Maxwell’s head and takes out a squeeze bottle of water. He uses it to wet a medical sponge and dabs it lightly inside Maxwell’s dry mouth and along his cracked lips.
“You’re sorry ? Do you even remember Ft. Pride--,” Haley starts.
“Haley—I am so sorry,” he apologizes again, his voice still raspy but less painful sounding. Maxwell makes small unsuccessful attempt to lift his head. “Please forgive me—I’m sorry for what I did.”
“I don’t forgive you. I'll never forgive you.” Haley says forcing Maxwell’s head back and reaching for the breathing tube. “You wasted your last words--”
“I hear you have a son.” Maxwell says quickly.
Haley frowns.
He’d never once mentioned Grayson in Maxwell's presence. He wanted Maxwell in the dark about his personal life. He’d made a choice to separate the ugliness of his past with the newer, better parts of his life. But the other nurses and assistants talked around patients, not realizing an offhand comment would mean so much.
He hated that even now, after all these years, Maxwell could still throw him off.
But he couldn’t allow that.
“Actually, I do have a son,” Haley admits. “He’s in primary school and he’s a little artist. He likes to paint and draw. He’s recently picked up some bad habits from the other children in his school. You know how little boys are—Oh, never mind. I guess you don’t know since I stole yours--”
He recognizes Maxwell’s attempt to spit on him and he takes a numbing patch out of the medical cabinet and lays it on Maxwell’s lips.
“Anyway…my son’s favorite toy right now is this watercolor kit. On weekdays I let him play with it for an hour before bedtime. He has to use it in the kitchen because it’s messy and I don’t want paint all over the apartment.
“Sometimes I have to leave him alone with it for a few minutes. Well, one night I noticed little drops of watercolor on the wall and floor in his room. See, he took the watercolor kit into his room when I was gone. Even though I told him not to do that. I told him he couldn’t use the watercolor kit for a whole week because he disobeyed me and do you know what he did ? He apologized. He said he was sorry and he wouldn’t do it again and begged me everyday that week to give it back.
“I didn’t give it back to him though. Because I knew he wasn’t sorry. He was only sorry because he got caught. You remind me of my little boy…only apologizing to me because I’m punishing you. Let’s be honest Maxwell, if we could go back, you’d rape and torture me all over again and if the war hadn’t ended you would have never stopped--”
“No. I-I-I-I wouldn’t have—I never---rape you…you came to me--I let you--”
“I was trying to survive. I was trying to find a way to live. I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there.”
“Neither did I. But we did. And you...I saw…I know what you did at that whorehouse--”
“We're not talking about that. I know even you’re not that stupid, Maxwell,” he frowns. “I watched you bullshit your way through RLA rape victim support groups during your campaign. You know it’s not the same. What you did to me has nothing to do with sex, it had to do with power. Power is dangerous Maxwell, I know that now. That’s why you’re here in Bright Seas. I can’t get lash out and hurt you without another staff member noticing.”
“Fine. Kill me. But first at least let me see my children one last--”
“Sky and Gemma can come see you anytime they want. They choose not to and Gemma doesn’t even know what you did. But that’s besides the point. You aren’t dying today--”
“Just do it. I’m done with this--”
“No. I’m keeping my slate clean. I don’t do bad things anymore. I don’t help people commit adultery or steal or bribe or blackmail. I won’t kill and I don’t want your death on my hands. So, let’s put this breathing tube back in—"
Maxwell thrashes his neck and starts to scream, but the sound was lost on unused vocal cords.
“Please…Not the breathing tube. I won’t talk,” Maxwell begs swiveling his neck. “Please…haven’t you punished me enough--,”
“Taking your son was for what you did to me in Ft. Pride. Leaving you here is for leaving me in that cell with Forge DeCartes--”
“That wasn't my fault. Please. I didn’t know what he would do anything to you--,”
“I think we both know that isn’t true. I never understood why you wanted me to suffer. You could have just killed me or left me in a cell alone. You could have paid me off --”
“I was young. I wasn’t thinking--”
“Yes, you were. You just didn’t see me as a person,” he says picking the breathing up tube up. “Now, just relax your neck--”
“Please…I won’t talk…Can you just keep the breathing tube out--”
“I’m sorry,” Haley cooes gently massaging Maxwell’s throats to ease the tube back in. “I know you hate it. Probably as much as I hated having your initials carved into my skin. But you'll survive.”
The bitterness he tried so hard to hide from Maxwell seeps into his tone and he has to shake it off.
The morning nursing aide would be coming by soon but Haley takes the time to wash Maxwell’s face again, shave the patchy stubble on his face and smooth back the thinning pieces left of graying hair.
He then turns on the assistive machine and quickly runs through the block command that would disable the emergency help function and remove a long string of vital words from Maxwell’s vocabulary.
Haley removes the lethal dose of adrenaline from his pocket and sets it in Maxwell’s bedside drawer.
“I’m going to leave this here in case I change my mind.”
A part of Haley had wanted to stay and with Maxwell longer. To make Maxwell understand why he was being punished and remind him of what he'd done.
But he had to get back to Arkham.
He was several hours ahead of schedule and his train wouldn’t be coming for another 10 hours. He should stay and wait at the station but it was more than enough time for him to take a train into the Sprawl and be back with time to spare.
He wanted to see what was left of the apartment and see if he could find clothes for Grayson. He’d packed their emergency duffle a year and a half ago and most of the clothes were too small for him now. They’d found plenty of adult clothes at Arkham but none for children.
Treasure Island had never felt like his home but it had been Luce’s. After Sara was nearly killed by an angry family member of one of her old targets and Luce’s cybernetics had put him in his chair the apartment building had become the only place the two felt comfortable.
Haley’s heart sinks when he arrives at the space where the apartment once stood. The building was torn in half and the side of the building where Luce and Sara’s apartment had been took the worse of the fire damage. Their millions of dollars worth of equipment and data had been turned into twisted metal and ash.
Haley gives himself one hour and deftly picks his way through what was left of the apartment. The overpriced dresser Isla had insisted he purchase for Grayson’s room had survived and when he pries it open Grayson’s play clothes are still inside. As he stuffs the clothes into his bag he notices something else buried beneath the mess.
He reaches down and dusts the soot and ash off the watercolor kit. He flips it open and for some reason beyond logic the little pots of cheap paint had survived.
He puts that into the bag as well.
The 60 minutes timer he’s set in his syn buzzes that it is half way over and he moves to Luce and Sara’s side to see what he can find. He didn’t know cybernetic parts like the Graces’s did but he knew if he could get enough pieces there was a chance they could maybe build a battery for Luce and he wouldn’t need to be shut off to charge his chair’s server.
Hurried footsteps sound off to the side of him and he looks up to see a figure walking cautiously over the rubble. His head snaps up in time to see a familiar face.
“Maverick ?,” Haley asks.
The man stops in his tracks and stares at Haley like he was seeing a ghost.
He’d met Maverick through his time at Control. He was the only apprentice of the notorious dominant Gaige Zajicek to finish his apprenticeship. Control had been closed for a few years now but Haley had found himself pulled back into Maverick’s orbit over time. He’d considered the younger man something of a friend. Although Luce had never trusted the man outside of the services they paid him for.
“Maverick ? Are you okay ?,” Haley asks when Maverick is still staring at him speechless. He didn’t remember him ever being at a loss of words.
“Um, hey,” Maverick says, shaking off whatever stupor he’d been in. “Wow, it’s just…you’re alive! Are you all…”
“We’re fine,” Haley says. “What brings you to this side of town so early?”
It was barely 7AM and Maverick lived on the other side of the city in a one room loft that he couldn’t afford but he wanted to be closer to where he could find potential high roller clients for his new business venture.
“I was just…seeing if it was true. That the place had really burned down.”
“It’s true.”
“What happened ?,”
“I’m not sure--”
“It looks like a bomb went off,”
Haley turns back to the wreckage.
It did. He snaps a few images on his syn for Sara and Luce to see.
“Well, I gotta go,” Maverick says. “You and the kid got a place to stay and all ?,”
Haley stares at the man who he’d known for almost 20 years and had never once asked a question out of concern.
“We’re good,” is all he says.
Maverick nods and then walks away, Haley can’t help but to notice he was carrying a very un-Maverick like backpack but doesn’t dwell on it.
He fills the next half hour arranging and stuffing as much as he can into his own bag. He’s preparing to return to the station when a sharp sensation crawls down his neck. He touches a finger to the spot and feels a small pinprick of pain like a bug bite.
But then he remembers there are no bugs in the Sprawl.
He shifts on his feet to see two men barreling toward him with malice in their eyes. Panic fires through him and his flight instinct kicks in.
But the men don’t give him a chance to run. Before he can even begin to move his feet a thick fog comes over his senses.
He can’t even remember to put up a fight as the men secure his arms and wrestle him into the back of a car. The world turns gray as the car plows through the Sprawl alley ways and then it all goes black.
Not here.
Not again.
Haley had promised himself he’d never be anyone’s prisoner again but here he was.
He comes back to consciousness in fits and starts. He knows he’s on the floor of a large, windowless, pristine space with a familiar saltwater smell he can’t place. When he is finally able to shake off the fog he sees he’s not in a cell, but an expansive medical grade lab filled with hospital equipment. It reminded him of the training center for student orderlies at Ft. Perch Medical Center.
He was being watched.
He does a quick check of his body. It was a little bruised but he’s not hooked up to any machines and he’s not restrained.
Standing, he slowly walks the length of the lab and jumps in shock as figure moves out of the shadows.
He approaches slowly and makes out that the figure is leaning over one of the operating tables. At the sound of his footsteps the figure steps into the light and Haley recognizes the features.
“Alan!,” Haley exclaims. “Alan, you’re alive! But we thought…”
Alan Gray is dressed in ill-fitting hospital scrubs and a large bandage is wrapped sloppily around the right side of his head, obscuring most of his hair and right eye. Alan steps back into the shadows almost as quickly as he’d stepped out of them. Haley walks closer but Alan doesn’t look away from his work on the operating table.
He’s operating on the spliced open arm of one of the men who’d taken him to this place. The small flutter of hope Haley had felt sinks like a stone.
“Alan,” Haley frowns. “Are you working with him ? Did you help do this-”
“Where is Minnow ? Did you let them kill her--”
Alan’s eyes go hard and he returns his attention to his patient’s arm. Haley does a quick inventory of the work. Alan was infusing a blade into the man’s arm. It was a deadly body modification popular with street samurai before the war.
“How could you do this--”
“I didn't do anything. I'm just doing what I do best to survi-”
Alan goes silent as the doors of the lab slides opens and the stranger who’d introduced himself to Haley all those weeks ago as Kenji walks in. A pair of guards weighted down with firearms stand on either side of him.
“Actually, I do have a son,” Haley admits. “He’s in primary school and he’s a little artist. He likes to paint and draw. He’s recently picked up some bad habits from the other children in his school. You know how little boys are—Oh, never mind. I guess you don’t know since I stole yours--”
He recognizes Maxwell’s attempt to spit on him and he takes a numbing patch out of the medical cabinet and lays it on Maxwell’s lips.
“Anyway…my son’s favorite toy right now is this watercolor kit. On weekdays I let him play with it for an hour before bedtime. He has to use it in the kitchen because it’s messy and I don’t want paint all over the apartment.
“Sometimes I have to leave him alone with it for a few minutes. Well, one night I noticed little drops of watercolor on the wall and floor in his room. See, he took the watercolor kit into his room when I was gone. Even though I told him not to do that. I told him he couldn’t use the watercolor kit for a whole week because he disobeyed me and do you know what he did ? He apologized. He said he was sorry and he wouldn’t do it again and begged me everyday that week to give it back.
“I didn’t give it back to him though. Because I knew he wasn’t sorry. He was only sorry because he got caught. You remind me of my little boy…only apologizing to me because I’m punishing you. Let’s be honest Maxwell, if we could go back, you’d rape and torture me all over again and if the war hadn’t ended you would have never stopped--”
“No. I-I-I-I wouldn’t have—I never---rape you…you came to me--I let you--”
“I was trying to survive. I was trying to find a way to live. I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there.”
“Neither did I. But we did. And you...I saw…I know what you did at that whorehouse--”
“We're not talking about that. I know even you’re not that stupid, Maxwell,” he frowns. “I watched you bullshit your way through RLA rape victim support groups during your campaign. You know it’s not the same. What you did to me has nothing to do with sex, it had to do with power. Power is dangerous Maxwell, I know that now. That’s why you’re here in Bright Seas. I can’t get lash out and hurt you without another staff member noticing.”
“Fine. Kill me. But first at least let me see my children one last--”
“Sky and Gemma can come see you anytime they want. They choose not to and Gemma doesn’t even know what you did. But that’s besides the point. You aren’t dying today--”
“Just do it. I’m done with this--”
“No. I’m keeping my slate clean. I don’t do bad things anymore. I don’t help people commit adultery or steal or bribe or blackmail. I won’t kill and I don’t want your death on my hands. So, let’s put this breathing tube back in—"
Maxwell thrashes his neck and starts to scream, but the sound was lost on unused vocal cords.
“Please…Not the breathing tube. I won’t talk,” Maxwell begs swiveling his neck. “Please…haven’t you punished me enough--,”
“Taking your son was for what you did to me in Ft. Pride. Leaving you here is for leaving me in that cell with Forge DeCartes--”
“That wasn't my fault. Please. I didn’t know what he would do anything to you--,”
“I think we both know that isn’t true. I never understood why you wanted me to suffer. You could have just killed me or left me in a cell alone. You could have paid me off --”
“I was young. I wasn’t thinking--”
“Yes, you were. You just didn’t see me as a person,” he says picking the breathing up tube up. “Now, just relax your neck--”
“Please…I won’t talk…Can you just keep the breathing tube out--”
“I’m sorry,” Haley cooes gently massaging Maxwell’s throats to ease the tube back in. “I know you hate it. Probably as much as I hated having your initials carved into my skin. But you'll survive.”
The bitterness he tried so hard to hide from Maxwell seeps into his tone and he has to shake it off.
The morning nursing aide would be coming by soon but Haley takes the time to wash Maxwell’s face again, shave the patchy stubble on his face and smooth back the thinning pieces left of graying hair.
He then turns on the assistive machine and quickly runs through the block command that would disable the emergency help function and remove a long string of vital words from Maxwell’s vocabulary.
Haley removes the lethal dose of adrenaline from his pocket and sets it in Maxwell’s bedside drawer.
“I’m going to leave this here in case I change my mind.”
***
-2-
-2-
A part of Haley had wanted to stay and with Maxwell longer. To make Maxwell understand why he was being punished and remind him of what he'd done.
But he had to get back to Arkham.
He was several hours ahead of schedule and his train wouldn’t be coming for another 10 hours. He should stay and wait at the station but it was more than enough time for him to take a train into the Sprawl and be back with time to spare.
He wanted to see what was left of the apartment and see if he could find clothes for Grayson. He’d packed their emergency duffle a year and a half ago and most of the clothes were too small for him now. They’d found plenty of adult clothes at Arkham but none for children.
Treasure Island had never felt like his home but it had been Luce’s. After Sara was nearly killed by an angry family member of one of her old targets and Luce’s cybernetics had put him in his chair the apartment building had become the only place the two felt comfortable.
Haley’s heart sinks when he arrives at the space where the apartment once stood. The building was torn in half and the side of the building where Luce and Sara’s apartment had been took the worse of the fire damage. Their millions of dollars worth of equipment and data had been turned into twisted metal and ash.
Haley gives himself one hour and deftly picks his way through what was left of the apartment. The overpriced dresser Isla had insisted he purchase for Grayson’s room had survived and when he pries it open Grayson’s play clothes are still inside. As he stuffs the clothes into his bag he notices something else buried beneath the mess.
He reaches down and dusts the soot and ash off the watercolor kit. He flips it open and for some reason beyond logic the little pots of cheap paint had survived.
He puts that into the bag as well.
The 60 minutes timer he’s set in his syn buzzes that it is half way over and he moves to Luce and Sara’s side to see what he can find. He didn’t know cybernetic parts like the Graces’s did but he knew if he could get enough pieces there was a chance they could maybe build a battery for Luce and he wouldn’t need to be shut off to charge his chair’s server.
Hurried footsteps sound off to the side of him and he looks up to see a figure walking cautiously over the rubble. His head snaps up in time to see a familiar face.
“Maverick ?,” Haley asks.
The man stops in his tracks and stares at Haley like he was seeing a ghost.
He’d met Maverick through his time at Control. He was the only apprentice of the notorious dominant Gaige Zajicek to finish his apprenticeship. Control had been closed for a few years now but Haley had found himself pulled back into Maverick’s orbit over time. He’d considered the younger man something of a friend. Although Luce had never trusted the man outside of the services they paid him for.
“Maverick ? Are you okay ?,” Haley asks when Maverick is still staring at him speechless. He didn’t remember him ever being at a loss of words.
“Um, hey,” Maverick says, shaking off whatever stupor he’d been in. “Wow, it’s just…you’re alive! Are you all…”
“We’re fine,” Haley says. “What brings you to this side of town so early?”
It was barely 7AM and Maverick lived on the other side of the city in a one room loft that he couldn’t afford but he wanted to be closer to where he could find potential high roller clients for his new business venture.
“I was just…seeing if it was true. That the place had really burned down.”
“It’s true.”
“What happened ?,”
“I’m not sure--”
“It looks like a bomb went off,”
Haley turns back to the wreckage.
It did. He snaps a few images on his syn for Sara and Luce to see.
“Well, I gotta go,” Maverick says. “You and the kid got a place to stay and all ?,”
Haley stares at the man who he’d known for almost 20 years and had never once asked a question out of concern.
“We’re good,” is all he says.
Maverick nods and then walks away, Haley can’t help but to notice he was carrying a very un-Maverick like backpack but doesn’t dwell on it.
He fills the next half hour arranging and stuffing as much as he can into his own bag. He’s preparing to return to the station when a sharp sensation crawls down his neck. He touches a finger to the spot and feels a small pinprick of pain like a bug bite.
But then he remembers there are no bugs in the Sprawl.
He shifts on his feet to see two men barreling toward him with malice in their eyes. Panic fires through him and his flight instinct kicks in.
But the men don’t give him a chance to run. Before he can even begin to move his feet a thick fog comes over his senses.
He can’t even remember to put up a fight as the men secure his arms and wrestle him into the back of a car. The world turns gray as the car plows through the Sprawl alley ways and then it all goes black.
---
-3-
NoNot here.
Not again.
Haley had promised himself he’d never be anyone’s prisoner again but here he was.
He comes back to consciousness in fits and starts. He knows he’s on the floor of a large, windowless, pristine space with a familiar saltwater smell he can’t place. When he is finally able to shake off the fog he sees he’s not in a cell, but an expansive medical grade lab filled with hospital equipment. It reminded him of the training center for student orderlies at Ft. Perch Medical Center.
The entire right wall had been replaced by a two-way mirror.
He was being watched.
He does a quick check of his body. It was a little bruised but he’s not hooked up to any machines and he’s not restrained.
Standing, he slowly walks the length of the lab and jumps in shock as figure moves out of the shadows.
He approaches slowly and makes out that the figure is leaning over one of the operating tables. At the sound of his footsteps the figure steps into the light and Haley recognizes the features.
“Alan!,” Haley exclaims. “Alan, you’re alive! But we thought…”
Alan Gray is dressed in ill-fitting hospital scrubs and a large bandage is wrapped sloppily around the right side of his head, obscuring most of his hair and right eye. Alan steps back into the shadows almost as quickly as he’d stepped out of them. Haley walks closer but Alan doesn’t look away from his work on the operating table.
He’s operating on the spliced open arm of one of the men who’d taken him to this place. The small flutter of hope Haley had felt sinks like a stone.
“Alan,” Haley frowns. “Are you working with him ? Did you help do this-”
“He's coming. Don't cause any trouble. I’m trying to work,” Alan replies tersely.
“Where is Minnow ? Did you let them kill her--”
Alan’s eyes go hard and he returns his attention to his patient’s arm. Haley does a quick inventory of the work. Alan was infusing a blade into the man’s arm. It was a deadly body modification popular with street samurai before the war.
“How could you do this--”
“I didn't do anything. I'm just doing what I do best to survi-”
Alan goes silent as the doors of the lab slides opens and the stranger who’d introduced himself to Haley all those weeks ago as Kenji walks in. A pair of guards weighted down with firearms stand on either side of him.
He recognizes one of the guards as Thad Jens, who'd worked for Rias before getting fired for being in the girl's wing without permission. The man who must be behind this is wearing an expensive suit and has a dramatically mature heir about him suddenly.
“Good, you’re awake--,” his captor says.
“Who are you--”
“I’m asking the questions,” he cuts in. “Where are Eloise Washington and Jean Dory ?,”
“I don’t know,” Haley says quietly.
“Bullshit. We’ve been watching the apartment and neither you or your son have been back since Eloise went missing. Where are the Graces-”
“I don’t know. My son is with his mother and I’ve been working overnights. I didn't know about the fire. They’re just my neighbors--,”
“You think I can’t find a marriage certificate--”
“It's not like that.” Haley replies easily. “He lets me rent an apartment I don’t know anything about--”
“You're lying,” the man spits and strides out of the room, leaving the two guards behind. Thad stares at him intently, excitement dancing behind his eyes.
The moment the doors close Haley hears footsteps on the other side of the two-way mirror that ran the length of the lab. A small ping sounds and the two-way mirror coating dissolves to show the room on the other side of it.
His captor is standing in the middle of that room. The room is of equal size as the lab but its barren and empty and looks more like a prison cell.
And it's prisoners are Minnow Dory, Angel Washington and Astumi Washington.
Minnow is slumped over, her body curled into itself on the hard floor and covered in bloody bruises. Her eyes are closed but he can detect the faint rise of her chest. The two girls were wide-eyed, they'd been stripped to their underwear and were intertwined with each other. They huddled closer to the corner of the room for modesty as their captor walks over to them.
Haley recognized the terror in their eyes and it infuriates him.
"Okay! Leave them alone!," Haley shouts banging on the glass.
“I'm glad you're the one who we caught. I've amassed quite a few anxious men,” their captor says, a hidden mic carrying his voice crystal clear back to Haley.
He runs his finger through Angel’s hair and she cringes at the touch.
“I have an army of men behind me waiting for me to take my place as head of MBC and the cartel. But first I need Eloise dead. None of them were supposed to wait this long for me to announce my presence and take control.” he continues. “I prefer to keep the girls to myself but...I know you know all about the needs of restless men. Maybe then you'll be more willing to talk.”
Before Haley can respond the two-way mirror goes dark and Thad shoves him violently up against the glass.
"Next time I come in here you'll be mine." Thad sneers before exiting with his fellow guard.
“Wait, I'll tal--” Haley calls after them but the door shuts behind them before he can get a word in.
Haley bangs on the now coated glass of the mirror but Alan pulls him away sharply.
“No--,” Haley starts.
“He’s not in the room with them anymore,” Alan replies gruffly. “If you keep knocking on the glass you’ll just scare the girls. That wall is thin. If he was really doing something to them...we'd hear it.”
"Has he hurt them ?,"
Alan doesn't respond but looks back at his patient.
“Alan...are you in this with him ?”
“What the hell do you think ? I'm locked in here same as you, aren't I ?”
Haley didn't know much about Alan Gray. He's always thought him brilliant for what he did to create Grayson. But to hear Luce tell it, Alan was a still just a useless rich boy android and Sara Grace's favorite thing she stole. What Luce wouldn't admit to was that Alan always took whatever job the cartel had given him and excelled at it. He'd gone undercover using false aliases for years. He could gain the trust of anyone with his medical skill, seemingly impermeable youthful handsomeness and elastic personality.
“I don't know what you're planning," Haley warns. "But we have to get out of here and save the girls,”
“I know. I've been trying to get us all out for days but it's been complicated. Where are Luce and Sara ? How did you end up here ?”
“No, you first. What the hell happened in the house that night ?,”
“Good, you’re awake--,” his captor says.
“Who are you--”
“I’m asking the questions,” he cuts in. “Where are Eloise Washington and Jean Dory ?,”
“I don’t know,” Haley says quietly.
“Bullshit. We’ve been watching the apartment and neither you or your son have been back since Eloise went missing. Where are the Graces-”
“I don’t know. My son is with his mother and I’ve been working overnights. I didn't know about the fire. They’re just my neighbors--,”
“You think I can’t find a marriage certificate--”
“It's not like that.” Haley replies easily. “He lets me rent an apartment I don’t know anything about--”
“You're lying,” the man spits and strides out of the room, leaving the two guards behind. Thad stares at him intently, excitement dancing behind his eyes.
The moment the doors close Haley hears footsteps on the other side of the two-way mirror that ran the length of the lab. A small ping sounds and the two-way mirror coating dissolves to show the room on the other side of it.
His captor is standing in the middle of that room. The room is of equal size as the lab but its barren and empty and looks more like a prison cell.
And it's prisoners are Minnow Dory, Angel Washington and Astumi Washington.
Minnow is slumped over, her body curled into itself on the hard floor and covered in bloody bruises. Her eyes are closed but he can detect the faint rise of her chest. The two girls were wide-eyed, they'd been stripped to their underwear and were intertwined with each other. They huddled closer to the corner of the room for modesty as their captor walks over to them.
Haley recognized the terror in their eyes and it infuriates him.
"Okay! Leave them alone!," Haley shouts banging on the glass.
“I'm glad you're the one who we caught. I've amassed quite a few anxious men,” their captor says, a hidden mic carrying his voice crystal clear back to Haley.
He runs his finger through Angel’s hair and she cringes at the touch.
“I have an army of men behind me waiting for me to take my place as head of MBC and the cartel. But first I need Eloise dead. None of them were supposed to wait this long for me to announce my presence and take control.” he continues. “I prefer to keep the girls to myself but...I know you know all about the needs of restless men. Maybe then you'll be more willing to talk.”
Before Haley can respond the two-way mirror goes dark and Thad shoves him violently up against the glass.
"Next time I come in here you'll be mine." Thad sneers before exiting with his fellow guard.
“Wait, I'll tal--” Haley calls after them but the door shuts behind them before he can get a word in.
Haley bangs on the now coated glass of the mirror but Alan pulls him away sharply.
“No--,” Haley starts.
“He’s not in the room with them anymore,” Alan replies gruffly. “If you keep knocking on the glass you’ll just scare the girls. That wall is thin. If he was really doing something to them...we'd hear it.”
"Has he hurt them ?,"
Alan doesn't respond but looks back at his patient.
“Alan...are you in this with him ?”
“What the hell do you think ? I'm locked in here same as you, aren't I ?”
Haley didn't know much about Alan Gray. He's always thought him brilliant for what he did to create Grayson. But to hear Luce tell it, Alan was a still just a useless rich boy android and Sara Grace's favorite thing she stole. What Luce wouldn't admit to was that Alan always took whatever job the cartel had given him and excelled at it. He'd gone undercover using false aliases for years. He could gain the trust of anyone with his medical skill, seemingly impermeable youthful handsomeness and elastic personality.
“I don't know what you're planning," Haley warns. "But we have to get out of here and save the girls,”
“I know. I've been trying to get us all out for days but it's been complicated. Where are Luce and Sara ? How did you end up here ?”
“No, you first. What the hell happened in the house that night ?,”