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The MK Collectors Incident

Brain's on fire, he thought. That's a good thing.

Max sat on the edge of the building, naked, with a cellphone in his hands and a cup of coffee close by. The November air was cold but he was used to it; he just needed time to think. He hadn't gotten any sleep throughout the night; he had been on the computer surfing. Digging around the cybergrounds, trying to uncover hidden bones.

I need something to shake me up, he thought. You going to do that for me, city?

The morning was upon him, the sun peaking above the horizon as if peering up from under the bed sheets. He brought the coffee up to his lips and took a taste. The sound of the city was beating, like blood going through the heart, a steady rhythmic sound. 

Max didn't care if he was seen or not; he just needed this time to think.

"Well now," said one man as he landed on the roof. "Mr. Cube I presume."

Max didn't even budge, didn't even turn to face the man. He placed the coffee down beside him and picked up his cigarette that was sitting on the edge. Ashes falling like dirty snowflakes.

There was a chuckle from a second voice as well. "Talk about catching someone with their pants down."

Max was like The Thinker on the ledge; he didn't even acknowledge the would-be assassins. Right now they could blow him away and there wouldn't be a care in the world. He was beyond them.

"Mr. Cube," the first man said, stepping forward. "MK has been searching for you for a long time now. We've been assigned to bring you in. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"I want it to be the hard way," the second fellow said as he cocked a weapon. Trying to get Max to turn and face him, but like a gargoyle sentry Max just kept his eyes ahead. "Last three round-ups have been cakewalks."

A smile cracked Max's lips and he turned his head to one side. "Catch me if you can," he said and like the ashes from the cigarette he dropped from the ledge.