An Evening at Logan's Home

 Chapter 3: An Evening at Logan's Home

The muted glow of cyberpunk city lights filtered through the high windows of Logan's home, casting long shadows across the room. Logan sat at his computer console, his wheelchair parked firmly in place, a telephone pressed to his ear. The screens around him flickered with streaming data and encrypted codes, a constant hum underscoring the tension in the air. 

Max entered the room as her pager beeped again, a sharp intrusion. She strolled in casually, but the weight of urgency was evident in her eyes.

"You rang, boss?" she asked, her tone laced with mock formality.

Logan slammed the phone down, his frustration palpable. He wheeled his chair forward, stopping just inches from Max’s toes, his anger barely contained.

"Where've you been? I've been paging you since three o'clock!" Logan's voice was sharp, accusatory.

Max drew her head back, folding her arms defiantly. "I must've missed the conversation when you became my keeper."

Logan turned his wheelchair away, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Our arrangement is that I help you, and you help me. I can't do anything if you don't call me back."

Max’s eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with you? Bling put too much starch in your shorts?"

Logan tossed her the Sunkiss Park Gazette, and their tension mounted like a storm cloud. "Have you seen that?"

Max glanced briefly at the newspaper and shrugged. "I figured you for *Soldier of Fortune* magazine myself."

Logan wheeled himself closer, his intensity undiminished. "But have you read it?"

Max grunted in frustration, strutting towards the door. "I don't have time for this, Logan. I'll come back when it's not your time of the month."

Logan sighed, waving her back. "Max, wait. You're right. I'm sorry. I just have a lot of things on my mind. Sometimes—"

Max cut him off, letting him off the hook. "If you miss me, just say so. I won't hold it against you." She smiled, the tension dissolving between them.

Logan looked at her long and hard, his emotions flickering. He seemed about to speak, his lip quivering with unspoken words. But he couldn’t get it out, so he returned to his business attire. 

"There's an article written by a doctor, a naturalist who experimented with illegal drugs and eventually lost his license," Logan explained, his voice now steady.

Max’s skepticism was evident. "So another quack bites the dust. Forgive me if I'm all out of tears."

Logan continued, his tone serious. "The article's mostly nonsense, except it mentions an incident three weeks ago where he assisted a man and a woman in Sunkiss Park. The man had been shot."

Max’s bravado faltered, replaced by a flicker of worry. "I hear that kinda thing happens every day in Sunkiss Park."

"You're right," Logan acknowledged. "Except that the man he referred to had a barcode on the back of his neck."

Max's demeanor shifted completely. She snatched the paper from Logan and read through the article, her eyes scanning rapidly. "My family... is he alright?"

"I don't know," Logan admitted. "It doesn’t say."

Max's resolve hardened. "I need to find out who this doctor is."

"His name is Reliable Media," Logan said, tapping into his extensive information network. "He went into hiding six months ago. He's a rebel medical journalist now and submits articles to the Gazette from an unknown location. But I'll find him."

Max’s determination was clear. "I gotta find them, Logan."

"I'll call you tomorrow. I'm scanning every database in the area for leads. But Max, if I can find him, so can Lydecker."

Max’s eyes blazed with resolve. "Doesn't matter. They're my family. If they're hurt, I have to go to them. No matter what the consequences."

As Max left Logan’s home, the weight of her mission pressed heavily on her shoulders. The city outside continued its relentless pulse, but the stakes had never been higher for Max. The lives of her family, the bonds forged in the past filled with pain and struggle, hung in the balance. No matter what lay ahead, she would face it head-on, driven by fierce loyalty and unbreakable resolve.