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Dressed all in black, blending into the shadows, Alec watched from the second floor landing of the casino, preternaturally quiet ... preternaturally patient. The establishment's offices were behind him, fanning out down a long bright red carpeted central hallway to either side. Normally the place was crowded with employees. However, at this time of night the area was all but deserted except for the cleaning crew. Below him, on the ground floor, a dozen or so nocturnal patrons were still gambling away at the all-night tables and slots, the sound of their voices background noise that Alec forced himself to ignore. What he was waiting for wouldn't happen down there.

And then he heard it -- the service elevator whirring at the far end of the hall. A moment later the doors slid open and three men dressed in janitorial outfits stepped out. Carrying buckets, mops and cleaning supplies, at first glance they seemed to be just what they looked like. However, Alec knew better. His sources had gotten wind that The Hon-Dah Resort Casino, Fort Apache Reservation's biggest money-making asset, was going to be the target of a major heist tonight, the day before the week's proceeds would be hauled off to a Phoenix bank.

But that wasn't going to happen -- not on his security watch.

The three men were trying to act stealthy and not succeeding very well. One of them even stumbled over a mop handle making his metal bucket clang loudly.

"Watch it, Billy!" the tallest of the bunch said in a forced whisper.

"You watch it, Ned!" the clumsy one replied.

"Shut the fuck up!" snapped the third man, a Native whose dark skin was in stark contrast to his Caucasian partners.

Alec shook his head and suppressed a smile. This was going to be almost too easy.

Billy tried the first office door, rattling the knob. "It's locked," he said.

"Of course it's locked, you nit!" the dark skinned one said. "They're all locked. And that's not even the room we want. We need the manager's office. It's down on the other side of the stairs." He then motioned to Ned. "Watch the elevator," he said. "Make certain the real crew doesn't show up on us." Then he gestured to Billy. "You, watch the stairs in case someone decides to come up here. I'll get the safe."

Alec pressed himself against the wall and let the leader of the group walk past where he was hidden. However, when Billy, a guy in his early twenties with shoulder-length straw colored hair and pale blue eyes, stepped onto the landing the X5 deliberately moved into the light.

Intent on watching the gamblers below, the kid at first didn't notice that he wasn't alone. Alec waited, the feel of the 9mm pistol tucked in the back of his jeans and pressing against his spine reassuring but not necessary. And then finally the young burglar turned around to look for his boss -- and instead found himself gazing directly into a pair of vaguely inhuman hazel-green eyes.

"Walt?" Billy bleated, not moving.

The boss (Walt apparently), busily picking the lock to the manager's office, didn't answer.

"Walt?" Billy called out more loudly as Alec's eyes continued to hold him frozen. The kid swallowed hard. "Walt, we've got a problem."

For the first time, Alec's expression changed. He smiled -- and then his fist connected with Billy's jaw hard enough to break teeth (but not kill). Unconscious on his feet, the boy slumped to the floor.

One down, two to go.

There was a sound behind him and Alec glanced back over his shoulder to see "Walt," the dark Native American, pointing a six-shooter at him -- not a very elegant weapon, Alec thought, but quite effective at close range. A bullet from that thing could tear a man's guts right out of his body.

"Who the fuck are you?" Walt snarled.

"Security," Alec said, the single word sufficient. The man was standing approximately eight feet away, the gun not wavering. Once more Alec smiled -- and then he blurred. There was the crack of breaking bone, and the next thing Walt knew he was staring down the barrel of his own gun.

"You broke my arm!" Walt yowled, cradling his shattered limb.

"And now I'm gonna break your face," Alec replied casually, flipping the gun over in his hand and smacking Walt up aside the head with it.

Two down, one to go.

Ned, still at the end of the corridor, apparently didn't want to suffer the same fate as his partners. Having watched them go down, he was now pounding frantically on the elevator button, trying to summon the car. Slowly, Alec began walking down the long hallway toward him.

For a second, the thwarted burglar was mesmerized, staring with mouth agape at the deadly young man who moved with the sinister grace of an animal. And then the elevator door opened behind him and he darted into the car.

"Ah shit," Alec muttered as he blurred again but wasn't quite in time to catch the closing doors. Ned, his pale face drawn with terror, looked up at him through the window of the lift as it sank downwards.

"Oh well," Alec said with a shrug. Then he turned and vaulted nonchalantly over the balcony railing, dropping two floors to land catlike on his feet beside an elderly woman who was playing a slot machine in the main lobby.

"Mam," Alec said with a boyishly charming smile and slight tip of his head to the startled woman. "Pardon the intrusion." Dusting his hands off he then strolled up to the bank of elevators and waited for the car to deliver his prisoner.

*****

"Good job, kid," the middle-aged Apache sheriff said as his men hauled away the three burglars in hand-cuffs. A big man, with a gut that had long ago "dun lapped over his belt," Sheriff Sky Cloud was a long-time fixture on the Fort Apache Reservation. Traditional native to the core, the tribal chief nonetheless had a keen insight into life beyond the boundaries of his people's land and the inherent dangers the casino operation brought to their doorstep, and had actually been the one who'd given Alec the security job.

"I told you I could get 'em without makin' a big fuss, Sky Cloud," Alec said with an egotistical, self-satisfied smirk as he stood with arms crossed leaning against the squad car. "Not a shot fired. No patrons disturbed. No bad publicity for Six Trees, the owner."

"Yeah, yeah, you did good, kid, and I owe you a drink," the chief said as the two men watched the paddy wagon head off with the prisoners. He eyed Alec speculatively. "You given any thought to that proposal I made you?" "You're wasting your talents working for Six Trees at this casino. Life would be a lot more interesting as one of my boys, not to mention rewarding. I could deputize you next week, as soon as your paperwork cleared, if you gave the word."

"Pay's better here," Alec said, giving the same excuse he always did, although the real reason was he couldn't risk having his prints and DNA run through a security clearance check. Even an off-the-map place like the White Mountain Apache Reservation had internet connections and access to national data bases.

"Ah come on, Alec," Sky Cloud cajoled him. "You started out as what? A bartender here about a year ago? I know bein' put in charge of casino security is a step up from that, but surely that's not your life's ambition."

"I'm just tryin' to get by," Alec said honestly. "And I don't want trouble, which is what I'd get if I became one of your boys in blue."

"A real rebel, aren't you?" Sky Cloud with a shake of his head that made his long dark braids sway. "I still wonder about you, Alec. You just showed up here out of the clear blue one day a year ago, stepping off that bus and acting like you already owned the place. I have to ask myself what a smart handsome boy like you is doing in a backwater rat hole like this." He squinted against the glare of oncoming headlights as a car pulled into the parking lot. "My instincts tell me you're on the run," he continued. "That's also probably why you won't apply for a job at my office -- too many security checks, too much back tracking into that mysterious past of yours."

"Oh, you've guessed my secret," Alec said with a sly grin. "Fact is, I'm on the FBI's ten most wanted list."

"No, you're not," the Sheriff said, his eyes growing serious. "I know because I checked. You're not on any wanted list that I have access to. Which just makes me wonder all the more about you."

"I'm nothin' but an upstanding citizen who wants to get back to nature," Alec said with a wink. Then his tone and expression sobered. "But I do like my privacy, if you get my meaning."

"My guess is that you're former military," Sky Cloud said, ignoring the warning look Alec had just shot his way. "One of them special forces guys -- Navy Seal? Ranger? Black Ops?" He gave Alec the once over head to toe. "Or does it go higher than that? CIA? FBI? NSA maybe? You have power in your eyes, son, as well as your body. That kind of confidence and ability comes from both nature and nurture. You've had training, lots of it, and you've got brains. Why you're hiding here I can't begin to understand -- 'less of course you wanted to bury yourself deep so no one could find you."

Alec exhaled a stream of white breath into the near freezing air, and turned away, deliberately ignoring Sky Cloud's assessment. "I'm beat," was all he said. "Doin' your job for you is tiring work, Sheriff." He glanced at his watch. "I figure I can sleep in though. Six Trees owes me a few hours off." He looked Sky Cloud straight in the eye. "See ya later, chief."

"Sleep tight, Gi´di´," Sky Cloud said, calling Alec by the name the White Mountain tribe had given him after their warriors had seen him fight for the first time, a word that meant "cat" in the Apache language.

"Always do," the X5 lied as he walked to the edge of the illuminated parking lot and melted into the night.

*****

Alec didn't bother turning on a light when he entered the dilapidated trailer he could never quite bring himself to call home. Devoid of any personal effects, the abode contained only the bare essentials he needed to keep himself clean, warm, and dry. If anyone had searched the premises, they wouldn't have a found out a single useful thing about its occupant -- unless, of course, they were curious about what flavor mouthwash he preferred or the fact he used shampoo for oily hair.

Shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over the back of a thread-bare armchair, the X5 tossed keys on the dinette table, kicked on the propane heater, and flopped down on the sagging mattress of the double bed that took up most of one end of the trailer. Burying his face against his arm, he closed his eyes and tried to think calmly ... rationally ... the way Manticore had taught him to. It wasn't good that Sky Cloud was asking so many questions. If the sheriff was sending out inquiries about "Alec Anderson" there could be repercussions, as in Lydecker's people taking notice. Just because everyone thought X5-494 had been killed in an explosion in South Africa a year ago didn't mean New Manticore wasn't on the lookout for other wandering X5s. He'd run far ... and fast ... and kept a low profile, but that still didn't mean he was safe.

Alec sniffed loudly, and caught a whiff of cheap perfume left behind on the sheets by the pretty blonde casino dealer he'd invited back to his place the night before (he couldn't remember her name ... had probably never even known it). She'd looked a little bit like Asha, although it wasn't the S1W member's body and face that fueled his fantasies while he fucked.

Max, what are you doin' now?

For a long time after he'd arrived on the reservation, Alec had deliberately avoided listening to any outside news on the television, or reading about current events in the papers. He was never going to see his brothers and sisters again ... never see Max again ... so what was the use in tormenting himself? The fate of the Terminal City transgenics was no longer any of his business or concern.

But then one night while patrolling the casino he'd accidentally heard a news cast on a television mounted behind the bar. The military was announcing the formation of a new special Unit made up of Manticore supersoldiers recruited from Seattle and elsewhere around the country. Taxpayer dollars had paid for these soldiers, the announcer said, and now the people of the U.S.A. were going to get their money's worth. The plague that was slowly sweeping the world was downing regular military personnel across the nation, but the Manticore recruits were able to survive the disease, therefore making them invaluable to the country's defense.

The news story had ended on what, to Alec, was an ominous note. More soldiers were being bred," the anchor said. "To insure the survival of America and its people."

"Max." Alec whispered the name wistfully as he turned over on his back and stared at the water stained ceiling, wondering if she'd been forced to do the unthinkable ... wondering if she'd been raped. Maybe he shouldn't have left her all alone like that. Maybe she hadn't been able to handle Lydecker afterall, even without the threat of her lover's death hanging over her head. Maybe I should go back ...