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Lydecker had a brand spanking new Lear jet parked at the Bangkok airport.

"I gather you do have a good source of funding," Max said dryly as she and Alec were ushered up the steps into the sleek silver craft. (The interior even had that "new car" smell.)

"I've got connections," Lydecker replied. "People who still think the supersoldier program is worth salvaging, not to mention the other applications for the genetic technology."

They were taken to seats in the rear of the plane and handcuffed to the armrests. Lydecker then sat down across the aisle.

"I'm hungry," Alec declared, as he lazily sprawled in the wide comfortable seat and propped booted feet on the headrest in front of him, much to the consternation of the soldier who was occupying that space already. The black garbed ordinary turned around and glared at him over the maroon cushion.

Alec shrugged, one corner of his lip curling up in a sneer. "Hey man, what can I say? My ass is worth a hell of a lot more than your sorry one. Not to mention birth rank does have its privileges. I was created to command you, you know."

The soldier looked over at Lydecker, his grey eyes pleading for help with the mouthy transgenic. The New Manticore CO shook his head silently. Don't antagonize the prisoner.

Alec smirked, and Max, sitting next to him, punched him in the arm.

"Don't cause trouble," she whispered.

"Oh, I'm gonna cause trouble," Alec replied evenly. "I'm gonna cause a lot of trouble."

"Just ... not now," Max pleaded as the jet rolled down the runway and the centrifugal force pressed them back into the plush cushions. "Later ... when we're on the ground again."

"We'll see," Alec said darkly, his eyes locked now with the ticked off soldier in the seat in front of him. "Boo!" he suddenly shouted, making a small threatening move in the guy's direction.

The ordinary's reaction was almost comical as he scrambled out of his seat, and leveled his gun at the X5.

"Stand down, soldier!" Lydecker barked, his disgust with his man evident. Then he cast a baleful glare at Alec, and raised a warning finger that he wagged silently in the air. "I have sedatives," he said softly.

Alec nodded, his mouth still pursed in a smug smile as he reclined in his seat and closed his eyes, capitulating for now. "Wake me when the stewardess brings the drink cart," he drawled. Then, purely for Max's benefit, "And if she's pretty ask her if she's ever heard of the Mile High Club. I'm thinkin' that with all this air travel, I might as well become a member."

Max just rolled her eyes.

*****

They were three hours into the flight when Alec's eyes snapped open. He had no idea what had awakened him -- but something had. Glancing beside him he saw Max looking out the window at the darkening sky, probably thinking about Logan and wondering if she'd ever see the guy again. Typical. Like she'd said, as far as she was concerned, that night on the Needle never happened. It's not as if she could possibly be thinking about him.

Calming his mind and forcing thoughts of Max away, Alec let his transgenic senses take over -- listening, smelling, watching ... using that sixth sense of his that was more cat than human.

Things weren't right.

One-by-one, he looked over the others in the Lear. Lane was three seats in front of him on the opposite side of the aisle. Alec had never realized that it was possible to "sit" at attention, but there it was, the X5 rigid in his seat, his eyes (presumably open) staring straight ahead toward the closed cockpit door.

The six ordinary soldiers were also in their places, four of them apparently asleep or at least dozing. But the other two, seated across the aisle from each other, were looking at one another and--

The hand signals were subtle, almost invisible. If Alec hadn't been intent on finding something he'd never have noticed. But the two guys were communicating secretly, using the Manticore hand gestures they'd all been taught as kids.

One minute, the soldier on the left, a guy with smoky eyes and dirty blonde hair, signaled.

One minute to what? Alec wondered. And then his cat vision vision zoomed in on the PK90 the soldier on the right was cradling. A macho-looking freckled dude with a non-regulation red goatee, his finger was on the trigger, the safety off.

Alec nudged Max with his elbow. But before he could say anything the dirty blonde soldier leaped to his feet, his own M-9 pistol brandished in the air.

"Nobody move!" he shouted loudly. "We're taking over this flight!" And then, with no warning whatsoever, he shot Lane in the chest.

The big X5 almost made it out of his seat, only to collapse back into the cushions, his head lolling to one side as he lost consciousness and blood spurted into the aisle.

With precision rapidness, Red Goatee then riddled the other four soldiers (as well as the walls of the jet) with bullets, ignoring their screams and making a bloody mess of the cabin. When the acrid smoke cleared, the submachine gun was leveled at Lydecker.

Alec knew his cue. He yanked with all his strength on the handcuff chaining his wrist to the seat, expecting to break free -- only to find out, much to his chagrin, that the chair arm was made of solid steel and bolted to the floor. Of course Lydecker knew how to hobble an X5. Why should he have expected less?

The PK90 swung in his direction, the barrel pointing at his head.

"No!" Lydecker shouted. "You want X5's, right? What will your boss say if you kill both of the males?"

"We'll still have her," the dirty blonde said, pointing his pistol at Max who sat glaring up at him.

"A breeding pair is far more valuable," Lydecker argued, his voice surprisingly calm considering what had just gone down.

Just then the cockpit door swung open and a man holding a small hand gun charged through -- only to have his head explode as a bullet entered his brain.

"What the fuck are you doing Morris?" Red Goatee shouted at his companion. "That's the pilot you idiot!"

"There's another, Evans," Morris replied levelly.

"I'm going to kill him," Evans said, somewhat mollified and gesturing at Lydecker. "But he's right about a pair being more valuable." He eyed Alec's handcuffs, making certain the X5 was still contained.

"They want Lydecker as well," Morris said. "If possible."

"Keep him quiet then," Evans said, tossing a plastic hand tie at Lydecker, and reaching beneath the older man's jacket to confiscate his pistol from its shoulder holster. "Put that on," he barked.

Lydecker, with a quick glance at Alec and Max, complied.

Just then a second man emerged from the cockpit, took one look at the situation, and launched himself at the soldier holding the M-9. The two men fell into the aisle, rolled, and there was the sound of a single shot.

Alec stared down with the others at the wide open eyes of the now very dead co-pilot. And then--

494 turned to Max, a slow, mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"What?" she whispered.

"Just wait," Alec said quietly. "This is gonna get interesting."

The two hijackers looked at each other. Realization was dawning.

Suddenly, Max got it -- and she smiled as well. "You're on, Tiger," she said in a low voice to Alec. "Go get 'em."

As if on cue, the jet bucked beneath them, hitting some turbulence, and the two soldiers glanced quickly toward the empty cockpit, panic in their eyes.

"What the fuck are we going to do now?" Evans snarled.

"What you're gonna do," Alec said, his voice deep and commanding, "is uncuff the one person on board who can land this plane." He held out his wrist and jangled the metal bracelet.

Across the aisle, Lydecker's face was impassive, but his blue eyes sparkled with what looked suspiciously like pride.

Morris and Evans conferred in low voices. The plane dipped again, and their feet slipped on the carpet. Outside the window it was growing dark rapidly, the stars coming out. Below was only the sea. Somewhere in the background there was the faint sound of air hissing, and Alec briefly wondered about where some of those wild shots had gone. He jangled the bracelet again. "I wouldn't wait too long, fellas," he said easily. "We're descending, and I've got no idea what our altitude is."

Evans made the decision. "The key," he said, clicking his fingers at Lydecker who reached into an inner pocket of his jacket.

"Don't get too close," Morris warned, grabbing his companion's arm as the soldier started to hand the key to Alec.

With a nod, Evans backed away and tossed it to the X5.

Alec caught the key deftly in his free hand, and quickly released the cuff. Without taking his eyes off the men, he motioned with his head at Max. "Her too," he said quietly.

"No way!" Morris barked.

"I need a copilot," Alec said evenly. "Someone who can decipher the maps in a damn hurry. And unless one of you turds can read at X5 speed, I suggest you let her come with me or else we're all gonna end up fish food when I can't find an airport and this plane runs out of fuel. Navigatin' the Indian Ocean, or wherever the hell we are, at night ain't easy. And it's not like I fly one of these things on a regular basis. I may be a supersoldier, but even I can't do everything at once."

"No!" Evans reiterated his fellow hijacker's answer.

With a heavy sigh, Alec stood up and stepped into the aisle. So much for doing this the easy way. Staring straight down the barrel of the PK90, he took two steps toward Evans, then blurred, ripping the submachine gun out of the soldier's hands. It took just one blow to break the guy's neck -- no time to be merciful this time around. Using the soldier's body as a platform even as he collapsed, Alec did a front flip, tucked, then kicked out with both legs, catching Morris in the face with his boots. With a scream, the hijacker toppled backwards only to have Alec land catlike, crouched on top of him. The last thing the young man ever saw was a pair of gleaming green eyes and the flash of white teeth in a ruthless smile as the X5 grabbed his head and twisted it sideways.

Lydecker and Max both heard the sharp snap as vertebrae broke.

"Max!" Alec called out, tossing the key to her as he leaped off the body. "Cuff him!" he ordered, pointing to Lydecker.

Donald Lydecker, a slightly stunned look on his face, warily watched as Max opened her own cuffs, then snapped his wrist to the armrest of his seat, leaving the plastic tie in place as well.

Alec meanwhile, ignoring with some difficulty the pungent aroma of fresh blood and the corpses littering the plane, ran for the cockpit.