The Max Effect. 1

Seeing Red.

Max returned home to her flat after finishing her shift. She had moved out of Rob's house a while ago, as she didn't want her shifts to be disruptive for the children. The address of the red car was across town, Shepperton. It was a little rural village about fifteen minutes from the town border. Max was going to scout out the address under the cover of darkness...unofficially. No one knew about her link with the red car and its links to the illegal cash slams. Nobody knew what she was up to.

Max drove out towards the village. Shepperton was quite a small village in population, but the houses were spread out. Max had decided to park away from the target house and walk the rest, allowing her to get closer and undiscovered. She hoped. Just in case, Max was carrying her gun with her, but her job could be at risk if she became involved in a shoot-out. Using a police service weapon off-duty was illegal and very risky—typical Max.

The night was quiet and dark, and the moon was hidden behind the clouds. Max walked to the target address, dressed entirely in black clothing. When Max reached the house, the light was on upstairs, and there was no sign of the red car yet. Max quietly walked into the grounds of the property. It was a four-bedroom, wooden-clad house with a separate barn and several buildings. The property had a bit of land and was likely a tiny farm in its previous incarnation. Max pulled her snood up to cover her face as she got nearer and continued to creep towards the downstairs window, the night's noises echoing. She could see nothing of note through the front window, so she made her way around the rear of the property. The door was locked, and Max could easily break it down without much effort, but for now, her interest was locating the red car.

Moving as quietly as she could, Max navigated her way to the first outbuilding; it was too small to house a car but worth checking. Looking through the dirty window, the brick building was full of junk. The next-sized outbuilding could house a vehicle, so Max headed over. This outbuilding was larger and unlocked. Max entered and looked around, but all that was in this and inside was farm machinery. There was one more building to check. It was long and thin,  like a Nissan hut, with two large doors at the front covered in corrugated iron which arched over the semi-circular frame. The windowless building had front doors around 8 feet high, locked and secured with a heavy-duty lock & chain. Max walked around the building, looking for a more accessible entry method. Max's eye catches the sight of a loose panel. Crouching down, she places her hands on the bottom of the loose corrugated iron. Gripping the edge tightly with both hands, she begins to pull upwards. The iron, initially resistant, starts to groan due to Max's extraordinary strength. Her arms shake with the exertion, veins standing out her forearms. Max's hands can feel the iron panel starting to give way as it slowly warps and twists. The corrugated iron sheets cannot withstand her strength and begin to buckle. As Max stands up, the integrity of the iron sheet completely fails, bending outwards and upwards, creating an opening. This is one of the reasons Max loves having muscles: the satisfaction of overcoming formidable barriers and the ease with her strength is victorious. She crouches again and enters the dark building. The benefit of a windowless building is that it allows Max to use her torch, and there, in all its glory, is the red car. This was at the scene of Lassie's murder and the car Max had seen cruising past the cash slams. The false plate matched the one she had taken down, and the rest of the markings were the same as the original crime photos; there was no mistaking this was the car.  Max placed a tracker underneath the vehicle, and she wanted a little more information before making her move. Max heard someone coming, approaching the front of the building. They started to unlock the doors. Max found a place to observe and turned off her torch. The cloud outside had cleared, and the moon was now brighter; it provided a bit of light, just enough for Max to see what was happening.

There were three men. One seemed to be the leader of the small group, and the other two were carrying bags to put into the car's boot (trunk). The leader matched the suspect photos from Lassie's case file, and Max's blood began to boil. She watched the other two men load up the car, and they were loading what looked like similar bags to what Max found at the dead man's house after the cash slam. Was Lassie involved with all of this? Is this where he got his cash from? Max was still debating whether to reveal herself or keep quiet. That decision was soon to be taken out of her hands. One of the men walked away from the car.

There was a short whistle, and the other two guys disappeared from the car's rear. They had discovered where Max had gained entry as torchlight shone through the hole she had created. Max heard the familiar noise of guns being released from their safety catches, and she quickly did the same with her weapon. One of the men walked around and shone his torch into the building, but she wasn't sure if he was alone or the other guy was with him. The torchlight was too bright. Max heard footsteps coming towards her; Max was confident that she had not been seen, but still, a heartbeat quickened, and adrenaline flowed fast. Footsteps came closer, the beam of light from the torch still blinding. Then, slowly, the footsteps moved even closer until Max could see the suspect's legs to the side of her. Max wanted to be in control. It was her style. She reached out and grabbed just above the man's ankle, her strong arm yanking him off his feet. He dropped his torch as he was swept off his feet by her powerful arm. Max came out of her hiding place and stuck fast. As the male hit the ground, Max straddled his body, her left hand, grabbing his jacket, pulling him up slightly, and striking him with a powerful punch. He was out cold. The other guy heard the noise and came running. Max had to move fast. She moved away from the male she had just knocked out and waited by the doors. He came running around, and as he did, Max launched an elbow strike into his chest, her elbow hitting him like a freight train. He doubled over, and as he did, she grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back up and then down again, thrusting her knee into his face. He fell to the ground.

Torchlight shone in Max's face, and then gunfire. Automatic gunfire. Max had started to move out of the way, and as soon as she became dazzled, she knew what was coming. Whatever weapon he had was powerful; the limited hiding places soon became riddled with bullet holes. Max tried to get into position to fire back but couldn't risk giving her position away, although it was just a matter of time before he opened fire on where she was hiding. Luck was on her side; the weapon stopped firing, and he started to reload. Max had been in gunfights before but never against something military-grade. She moved out from cover.

"Drop the weapon, or I'll shoot. Police," Max shouted.

"Fuck you" replied the male.

Max knew that phrase. Familiar with the ignorant, yes, but the way he said it. He was, without a doubt in her mind, the one who shot her and most likely murdered Lassie. Max repeated her command. He continued loading his gun, fumbling about while trying to hold his torch under his chin; Max could tell he was not trained in weapons. Max started to move forward, her gun pointing at him, repeating her command. She had no handcuffs or backup on the way; she made her plan up as she went along. As Max moved closer, she could see more of his features; he was about six foot four tall, thin, wiry build, with thin blonde hair and a rough, tired-looking face. Max hated him more every step closer. She started to feel more rage and less control. He was still struggling to load his weapon; suddenly, he pulled out a knife and charged towards Max. The gap between them was short. He made ground quickly; Max warned him again and fired a shot, hitting him in the shoulder. He went down. Max slowly walked over, her gun still pointing at the male. She cautiously approached as the heap on the floor was still. No movement or noise was coming from the male. Max was now standing over the body.