The Packrat sat ensconced high above the streets of King's Row, sheilded by the glaring light of the moon by the shodow of the Gargoyle at whose feet she crouched. She hugged herself, not just for warmth but for reassurance. The cold, cold voice of Vahzilok came to her again.
'You yourself did, Maggie. You see, you were born with the right sequence of DNA that Crey Industires needed. Regeneration to such a level that you are nearly invincible. You were invincible before we got to you. Don't you remember never being sick a day in your life?'
She sniffed the air slightly, searching, perhaps, for a hint of her mother. Nothing. Her whiplike tail tightened around the gargoyle's ankle.
'Yes, Maggie. You were designed by Crey Industries. It was they that contacted me, enlisting my Reapers. Grab the daughter is what I was told, deliver her safely. But the Family told my reapers something else entirely.'
She hissed, thinking back. " Where's my mother?"'
'That, my beautiful Moebius Strip, is something I don't know. I have no idea at all, honestly, why Crey wanted her as well. Perhaps you would do best to ask them.'
'But what about the Family's involvement, Dr?'
Just an opportunity to eliminate a powerful rival, my dear. They knew nothing of Crey's plans for you, I assure you.
The Packrat jumped as her beeper went off. She looked at it, her mind elsewhere. She she was Crey, a design to be the organizations perfect assassin. But they forgot to take away her will..or maybe they hadn't. Maybe her mind could regenrate too.
It was Angel, buzzing in from Dark Astoria. She sprang off the roof, sailing through the air in one phenomonal leap. And she smiled.
Now, it didn't matter whom she had been. Maggie Jordan had found her answers. That chapter in her life was closed.
She was just Packrat now. And her Group needed her.
The Packrat sat ensconced high above the streets of King's Row, sheilded by the glaring light of the moon by the shodow of the Gargoyle at whose feet she crouched. She hugged herself, not just for warmth but for reassurance. The cold, cold voice of Vahzilok came to her again.
'You yourself did, Maggie. You see, you were born with the right sequence of DNA that Crey Industires needed. Regeneration to such a level that you are nearly invincible. You were invincible before we got to you. Don't you remember never being sick a day in your life?'
She sniffed the air slightly, searching, perhaps, for a hint of her mother. Nothing. Her whiplike tail tightened around the gargoyle's ankle.
'Yes, Maggie. You were designed by Crey Industries. It was they that contacted me, enlisting my Reapers. Grab the daughter is what I was told, deliver her safely. But the Family told my reapers something else entirely.'
She hissed, thinking back. " Where's my mother?"'
'That, my beautiful Moebius Strip, is something I don't know. I have no idea at all, honestly, why Crey wanted her as well. Perhaps you would do best to ask them.'
'But what about the Family's involvement, Dr?'
Just an opportunity to eliminate a powerful rival, my dear. They knew nothing of Crey's plans for you, I assure you.
The Packrat jumped as her beeper went off. She looked at it, her mind elsewhere. She she was Crey, a design to be the organizations perfect assassin. But they forgot to take away her will..or maybe they hadn't. Maybe her mind could regenrate too.
It was Angel, buzzing in from Dark Astoria. She sprang off the roof, sailing through the air in one phenomonal leap. And she smiled.
Now, it didn't matter whom she had been. Maggie Jordan had found her answers. That chapter in her life was closed.
She was just Packrat now. And her Group needed her.