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Alec woke up shivering with cold, his limbs aching, and his head pounding with pain that almost defied description The agony was so intense that, for a moment, he was tempted to just close his eyes again, either that or vomit -- but, unfortunately, the soldier in him wouldn't allow that luxury. Forcing eyelids open, he assessed his situation the way he'd been taught -- coolly, methodically, without emotion -- compartmentalizing the fear and pain out of the way in his mind.

The first thing he noticed was that he was still on the airplane, the vibration and smell around him leaving no doubt about that fact.

The second thing he noticed was that he was completely naked, lying on his side on a pile of truly stinky burlap sacks (he felt as if he'd been thrown there), the material rough and scratchy against cheek, shoulder, and thigh. His hands were shackled in front of him with a plastic tie -- the kind police used on prisoners. However, when he moved his legs slightly he could tell his feet were free. Alec smiled a little then, through all his aches and pains. Whoever had taken him captive didn't have a clue he was a transgenic. Otherwise, he'd have been trussed up in a far more secure manner -- nor would they have let the drugs wear off.

Looking around as best he could without moving his head, he could tell he was in the cargo section, and from the sound of the motors they were also still in the air. He had no idea how long he'd been out (his captors had taken his watch along with the rest of his clothes), although it was now dark outside. As he recalled, there had been two men in the back of the plane, one of whom wouldn't be in very good shape. There was obviously a pilot on board as well, and probably a copilot.

Four ordinaries against an X5 -- easy odds. In fact, Alec found himself far more worried about how angry Max was going to be at him than about his current predicament. Getting out of this should be fairly easy. Getting Max to forgive him ...? He could hear her voice now, berating him for being a screw up yet again. His heavy sigh was more for the certain scolding than for the throbbing headache.

But there would be time to worry about that later. Putting pissed off Max out of his thoughts for now, Alec assessed his situation more carefully. Turning his head a little bit, he saw there was a guard seated about 10 feet away cradling a sawed-off shotgun in his lap. It was the one who'd zapped him with the second and third darts, the one who'd been in the can. Heavy set, Spanish from his looks, and with a big black mustache, his beady little eyes were looking straight at him.

"Hi there," Alec said, knowing it was no use to feign unconsciousness any longer. "I don't suppose this trip will count on my frequent flier miles, will it?"

The guard smiled, revealing several black-stubbed teeth, and said, "O menininho bonito está finalmente acordado." (The pretty little boy is finally awake.)

Portuguese, Alec thought, recognizing the language now and pulling up the knowledge he needed from his Manticore lessons. A lightening fast learner, he'd mastered quite a few foreign tongues in his formative years. However, it had been a long time since he'd used this one.

"O menininho bonito chutará seu como," Alec replied calmly, hoping he'd gotten the accent right. (The pretty little boy is going to kick your ass.)

The guard's grin widened and he called out to his companion, the man Alec had taken down when he'd first entered the DC9, a dark haired, middle-aged dude with shit-brown eyes. "Deixe-nos ter algum divertimento. Este deve-o." (Let's have some fun. This one owes you.)

Not good, Alec thought, considering his current state of vulnerability, not to mention undress. He was afraid he knew what their idea of "o divertimento" (fun) was going to be too.

The first guard was still holding the shotgun, the second had a night stick in his hand. But the one weapon Alec feared the most, a shock wand, wasn't in sight. Good. Again, it was obvious these turds had no idea what he really was.

"Role sobre" (role over), the mustached man ordered, still holding onto the gun. He prodded Alec in the stomach with his foot, at the same time unbuttoning the fly of his filthy blue jeans with his free hand. "Vou a fuck seu como fundo para o que você fez a Pedro." (I'm going to fuck your ass deep for what you did to Pedro.)

The one Mustache had referred to as Pedro grinned, knelt down, and began running big calloused hands over Alec's body, stroking his skin, his hair, his--

"Hey!" Alec protested, jerking away.

"E chuparão meu galo enquanto ele faz, meu pequeno bonito. É por causa de você que nós perdemos nossa carga," Pedro said. (And you're going to suck my cock while he does it, my pretty little one. It's because of you that we lost our cargo.) He, too, was unbuttoning his fly.

"Agora, compensarão ele. E isto é somente um gosto de o que que você receberá quando chegamos. Um corpo como o seu será comprado rapidamente," Mustache added. (Now, you're going to make up for it. And this is just a taste of what you'll get when we arrive. A body like yours will be bought quickly.)

"E então gastará o descanso de seua vida miserável fucked e chupar algum homem velho rico," Pedro said, nodding knowingly. (And then you'll spend the rest of your miserable life being fucked and sucking some rich old man.)

"Toque-me e você morre," Alec snarled. (Touch me and you die.) He would have made his move by now if it weren't for the guy's finger on the shotgun trigger. If he kicked him, the weapon might very well discharge, and a load of lead in his belly would definitely put the damper on his escape plans.

Pedro suddenly grabbed a handful of Alec's hair, pushed his face into the burlap, and put his finger in a place the X5 very much objected to. Shotgun or not, this was going to stop.

"Chupe neste você pedaço de shit!" (Suck on this, you piece of shit!) Alec roared, lashing out with one foot and catching the groping guard in the face. He made good on his threat, too. The horny pig's nose broke with a sharp crack, the tremendous force of Alec's blow sending bone shards into the slaver's brain. Pedro was dead before he hit the floor of the plane.

But Alec hadn't seen the results of his actions. He was too busy twisting the shotgun out of the other guard's grasp with his legs. The gun flew across the DC9's cabin, and Alec vaulted to his feet to stand glaring at his would-be rapist.

"Você nao pode escapar, minha criança. As seuas mãos são amarradas. E onde iria?" (You can't escape, my child. Your hands are tied. And where would you go?)

"Oh, just shut up!" Alec spat in English, sick and tired of this entire trip and wanting very badly to go home, not to mention the fact that he still had a killer headache.

"Com um corpo como o seu, pode comandar o próprio preço. Venha comigo. Seja meu amante e eu o fazrei rico." (With a body like yours, you can command your own price. Come with me. Be my lover and I'll make you rich.) The guard's eyes were raking Alec now, taking in his potential in a way that made the young transgenic blush, his desire blatantly obvious as the man's still exposed cock hardened.

"God, and I thought Normal was bad," Alec muttered, at the same time raising his bound wrists to his mouth and neatly slicing through the plastic with his teeth. Tossing the restraints to the ground, he stood free, arms at his sides, breathing lightly, his head finally beginning to clear. "Eu nunca será escravo novamente." (I'll never be a slave again.) "E além do mais, eu gosto de mulheres." (And besides, I like women.)

And then Alec smiled. Switching to English again, he purred, "You have no idea what I am, do you? I'm a freak! An esquisito! O demônio! (Demon!) O monstro! (Monster!). I'm a fucking transgenic, you dickhead!" He touched the back of his neck. "A barcode, understand?"

The guard's hard-on had withered at Alec's words, his eyes slowly widening with terror. "Esquisito," he whispered. "Esquisito!" And then he turned and ran for the cockpit door, not even bothering to close the front of his pants in his panic.

Alec blurred. Half a second later, he had the guard by the collar. Then his muscular forearm was around the man's throat. A crunch, and he let the body slide to the floor. Two down, Alec thought, not particularly concerned by the fact he'd just killed -- again. This was necessary. He glanced at the door up ahead. One, maybe two more to go.

But first ... The sight of his jeans, t-shirt, and jacket lying in a pile on the other side of the cabin was comforting. Gladiator dreams of Normal's aside, he found it emotionally uncomfortable, not to mention cold, fighting in his birthday suit. This was one part of his trip he definitely wasn't going to tell Max, Alec thought as he slipped on his jeans and decisively zipped the fly. It took only a few seconds to pull on the t-shirt, shrug into his jacket, and tie his shoes. Then the young transgenic once more looked to the cockpit door.

"Hi boys," Alec said happily when he popped in on the pilot and copilot a minute later. He just had time to note the startled expressions on their faces before he banged their heads together, knocking both men cold. Then, making sure the controls were on autopilot, he dragged their bodies back into the main cabin, tied them up, returned, sat in the pilot's seat, and, with a slight frown marring his handsome face, studied the lighted panels.

"Well, let's get this over with," Alec said, talking to himself as he cracked his knuckles and prepared to get to work. Pulling a flight manual from under the seat, he began reading the Spanish at transgenic speed. He'd been trained to fly airplanes back at Manticore, but not a model as old as this one. Still, how difficult could it be?

*****

It had been almost 48 hours since Alec had disappeared, and Max was worried sick. Joshua, too, was moping, his canine-like face incredibly sad.

"What are we going to do if Alec doesn't come back?" Joshua asked.

"Don't give up on him yet, big fella," Max said, trying to reassure the dog man.

"This is like when Annie died," Joshua whispered. "My heart hurts, Max. Alec is my friend. My brother. I love him."

"So do I," big fella," Max said quietly. "He's my family, too. But we've got to have faith in Alec right now. He's Manticore. He's a good soldier ... well, most of the time. If anyone can get out of this, Alec can."

"What if he's dead?" Joshua whimpered.

Max's eyebrows rose. The thought had occurred to her a hundred times in the past two days, and she still didn't know how that made her feel. She had no answer for Joshua either.

The dog man's head sank further as he curled up in the armchair of Logan's apartment, the sound of his sniffles getting to Max more than she wanted to admit.

"He's in Bangkok!"

Max nearly jumped out of her skin at Logan's sudden yell. "What?"

"Alec's in Bangkok!" Logan repeated jubilantly. "He's alive. He's fine. And he's stuck as hell -- no passport or papers!"

"How do you know this?" Max said, her voice quivering for some reason as she raced across the room to where Logan was sitting at his computer.

A triumphant gleam in his blue eyes, Logan pointed to an email message he'd just opened from a MontyCora494@hotmail.com. It read:

Hi guys, Sorry about the little side trip I took. Couldn't be helped. (Slavers are so lacking when it comes to decent manners, really rude of them to hit me with knockout darts.) Anyway, I know you're all worried sick about me. You, especially, Max. I'm fine though, although it's a bit chilly here in Bangkok and I didn't bring my winter coat.

I'm ready to come home now, guys. But the authorities are being assholes, insisting I have to produce a valid passport before they'll let me book a flight out. I told them to just deport me back to the U.S., but they're talking prison detail here so I really do need a little help. Logan?

Anyway, I gave the police the slip and am enjoying the sights of the city at the moment. (Was having a hard time explaining two dead slavers and two unconscious ones.) I'll check my email again in an hour. Tell Max to pack her warm duds.

Oh, and does the Transgenic Cause have any use for a DC9? They told me I could keep it if I pay the $10,000 fine for the unscheduled landing I made.

Alec

Max, her heart soaring with relief, looked up at Joshua who was reading the message over her shoulder, and smiled.

The dog man was grinning from ear to ear as well. "Alec coming home now?" he asked.

"You bet, big fella," Logan said, speaking for Max. "Alec's coming home."