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Alec was sipping his early morning coffee in the casino's Indian Pines Restaurant (and mildly flirting with a pretty new waitress who Six Trees had hired the week before) when a car pulling into the parking lot outside caught his attention.

Big ... black ... late model ... shiny ... Not the typical vehicle seen on the reservation which ran more to beat-up pick-up trucks and decade-old SUVs (with most of the natives preferring to ride horseback).

"Alec, honey," the pert brunette waitress cooed at his elbow as she bent low over the table showing off her considerable cleavage to its best advantage. "How about that dinner you promised me? I'm off at eight tonight."

But Alec was still looking out the window, watching as three very large men dressed in army fatigues got out of the car. They weren't X5s -- or at least he didn't think so -- too ugly, and the blond with the crewcut had a big scar marring his right cheek. X series soldiers didn't scar, not permanently.

His mind racing, picturing scenarios and none of them good, Alec turned to the waitress with a charming smile. "Alicia, sweetheart ... It's Alicia, right?" He took hold of her elbow and pushed her back into a more upright and less revealing position. "Tonight's not good for me. Maybe next week."

"But you promised to show me the stars on White Mountain," she pouted, batting big blue eyes and mascara laden eyelashes. "We could have fun," she teased, wriggling her slightly plump bottom seductively.

"What can I say?" Alec replied with mock disappointment. "I hate the thought of missing out on your lovely company, but duty calls."

"Alec, honey, pleassssse."

"I gotta work," Alec said, his voice more clipped than before. He caught her eyes with his having no more time for the game. "Beat it."

She finally took the hint. Her pout now a real frown, Alicia turned with a huff and took herself and her big boobs to a more amiable looking customer in a booth down the aisle -- a used car salesman who had nowhere near Alec's physical appeal but did possess the next best thing -- a fat wallet.

"Is something wrong?" Chloe, the head cashier asked. Alec glanced up at the Apache native who was also Six Trees wife. Plump, motherly, and not overly talkative, she'd taken a shine to the X5 from the moment he'd come into the casino looking for work. Alec had spent many a long evening sitting at the counter in here, or at the Spirits Bar next door, listening to her describe the life her ancestors had lived two hundred years ago, her lurid tales of the old west holding him mesmerized like a little boy.

"Everything's fine," Alec said easily as he stood up without taking his eyes off the men outside. There weren't many other patrons in the restaurant this early in the morning, a couple of tourists at a table in the back and a staff member seated further down the counter, plus Alicia's used car dealer. At least the collateral damage won't be too great, a Manticore voice whispered in Alec's mind.

"You haven't finished your breakfast," Chloe said. "Something wrong with the eggs and bacon?"

"No, they're great," Alec said distractedly as he continued watching the parking lot. Two of the men were lounging against the side of the car, but "crewcut" was headed into the cafe. "I'm just not very hungry this morning."

There was a back door to the restaurant, and Alec contemplated using it. But if he ran, and it turned out these guys were just some government stiffs here to talk about tribal reparations, then there would be questions about his odd behavior and his cover might get blown. (Chloe was already looking at him suspiciously -- and her insight could be frightening, bordering on the supernatural.) Or worse, they might do more than just ask questions of those remaining behind in the diner. Enough innocent people had already died because of him and he'd be damned if he'd put his new friends or their customers in danger.

"Go," Chloe suddenly whispered to him in a low voice, her hand lightly touching the back of his. "I'll stall them."

"Chloe--" Alec began. But then his eyes met the blond man's as he came through the door and he knew he was fucked -- even before the Red soldier pulled aside his army jacket and revealed the Glock 65 pistol in its holster under his arm.

"Get behind the counter," Alec told Chloe. It was a command, delivered in a tone of voice that brooked no argument, and without question the woman complied. Then he stepped out of the booth and stood facing the soldier.

"Come with us quietly, and no one in here has to get hurt," the big man rumbled in a deep voice.

Alec glanced out the window. There was only one man at the car now, the other one probably waiting out back in case their quarry bolted. If they'd been ordinaries, even Lydecker's people, Alec would have taken them on. But South African Red soldiers were far from "ordinary." Artificially created through the use of a neural brain implant that stimulated adrenalin and other body hormones, their strength surpassed an X5's. And worse -- like the Breeding Cult Familiars -- they felt no pain, making them a formidable, if not undefeatable, foe. Max had twice taken on Reds, and both times nearly gotten herself killed. She'd warned him numerous times about them since then, as had Lydecker. Alec knew he had to be very careful here ...

"Come with us," the blond said again, this time taking hold of Alec's upper arm in a crushing grip.

"Watch the material," Alec snapped, jerking away and smoothing the leather of his jacket. "I'll go," he added quickly when the man started to reach for his gun. "Just don't hurt anyone."

His assailant nodded and motioned for Alec to move ahead of him.

"Alec?" Chloe called out, worried.

"I'm fine," Alec said. "These are just some old friends of mine come to visit." He waved a hand in her direction. "Tell Six Trees I'll talk to him tonight."

Her dark skinned brow knit with worry, the Apache woman watched as Alec was "escorted" out of the cafe, but wisely didn't interfere.

Once outside, however, it was a whole other story. Free from the constraints of innocent people being hurt in the crossfire, Alec was a dozen yards from the car when he whirled, nailed the Red soldier in the face with an inhumanly high jump front kick, landed, spun, and blurred for the underbrush. With any luck at all, he could hide in the wild landscape until nightfall then make his way back to his trailer and bike, collect the one possession he absolutely couldn't part with, and vanish to make another new life for himself elsewhere.

But the Reds weren't stupid. They'd come prepared.

The first knockout dark hit Alec in the back of his left shoulder. Crying out with pain as the six-inch needle penetrated into bone, he stumbled, regained his footing, and kept running -- only to be struck with a second dart lower in the back near his spine.

The X5 got all of thirty yards into the brush before collapsing.

The hunt was over, the quarry run to ground.

*****

A hand slapped his face, hard, and Alec made a little sound of pain in the back of his throat. Another blow and his head snapped sideways, but he still kept his eyes tightly closed.

"Open your eyes animal!" a harsh voice snarled. "We know you're awake!"

There was the sound of a gun being cocked right behind Alec's ear and he braced himself for--.

"Stop it, Jake!" a second voice said. "You know we can't kill him."

"I can do anything I damn well please with him," Jake said.

"He's not worth anything to us dead," a third man said. "The boss wants the Manticore boy alive."

"Open your eyes, son." The words came from yet a different person, someone with a softer tone of voice and lacking the thick accents of the other three.

The hand that touched Alec's face this time was disconcertingly gentle, fingers cupping his chin, giving his head a mild shake, but still he pretended to be unconscious. Then an ammonia capsule was broken beneath his nose and involuntarily he started to cough. Eyes watering, he peered blearily up at a man wearing a white lab coat.

Shit.

Taking quick stock of his situation as he blinked and tried to focus, Alec deduced that things weren't good. He was handcuffed in a heavy metal chair, his ankles chained as well. Stripped to his shorts and essentially at the mercy of his captors, the cold air of the dilapidated hotel room caressed his hot flesh like a cruel lover making him shiver.

"Where am I?" he asked huskily, his mouth so dry he could barely talk. The acrid taste of metal on his tongue he recognized as an after effect of the sedative that had been pumped into his blood.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the soft spoken man said as he held a glass of water to Alec's lips.

Eying his captor suspiciously, the X5 first took a cautious sip, then drank thirstily, his body needing the liquid to recover.

His benefactor smiled. In his early thirties, with thin blond hair covering a shiny prematurely balding head, he had the face of a scholar and the piercing blue eyes of a zealot -- a scientist or doctor, not a Red soldier. "My name is Hans Bremmer," he continued. "These three are my men. We're part of the South African military, their research branch."

"You're Reds," Alec said. Finished with the water, he looked up at his captors with the eyes of an an angry cat.

"Yes," the man said with another little smile. "We're Reds. Well, at least my three men are. And you, X5-494, are going to be the father of our new race of soldiers."

"Fuck you," Alec spat as he yanked on the cuffs.

"Indeed," Bremmer chuckled. "In a manner of speaking you'll be doing a lot of that soon for me ... fucking." He said the foul word in an odd way, as if tasting it, and Alec shivered again -- but this time not with cold.

"You're very attractive, you know," Bremmer continued as he lightly ran a finger down Alec's biceps, tracing the well defined muscle. "But then Manticore created its X5 soldiers for beauty as well as brains and strength -- a first for that military organization, taking the esoteric into account when building a soldier. Their earlier attempts were -- how shall I put it? -- grotesque."

"They wanted us to fit into society," Alec said in defense of his good looks.

"Ah," Bremmer cooed, "So of course they attempted perfection in the cosmetic as well as the physiology. Too bad they didn't quite succeed -- in creating the perfect soldier I mean." He leaned forward until his face was only inches from Alec's, his fingers now stroking the X5's naked chest, petting him as if he were indeed an animal. "I'm referring to your seizures," he said softly. "You see, I know all about those, 494 -- your flaws. One might say I've made quite a study of you."

"Why me?" Alec asked as he nervously watched Bremmer's hands. He didn't like being touched, and especially not by an obvious pervert like this. He also noted the guard, Jake, watching the show with an alarmingly hungry grin on his ugly face. Maybe he was expecting "leftovers" after his boss was done with the main course.

"When your people destroyed our South African genetics laboratory last year one of our exterior guards, unbeknownst to your command, escaped. When we recovered him he had a very interesting story to tell. It seems he observed one of the American undercover operatives fleeing from the building just before it was incinerated -- running into the woods, not back to his Unit." His voice dropped lower, to almost a whisper, and those scary blue eyes bore into Alec's. "We've been tracking you down ever since, 494. You see, all of your brothers and sisters back in Seattle are being kept on too tight of a leash by New Manticore -- too well guarded for us to snatch one. You, however, were unprotected ... vulnerable. You led us on quite a chase, but last week our people were able to confirm your location. And then today, at long last, we picked you up -- a fertile adult male X5-Unit from Manticore, our dream come true one might say."

Alec remained silent.

"We almost had one of your sisters a couple of years ago," Bremmer continued enthusiastically. He glanced at his men who were standing at half-attention along the wall, cradling weapons in their arms. "Her ova would have greatly helped along our genetics program, but alas she escaped. You, however, will be just as helpful to our breeding laboratories. Your DNA is unique ... phenomenal even ... your semen worth millions of dollars an ounce." He smiled almost paternally at Alec then -- not a pleasant sight.

Alec wanted to spit in the bastard's face, like he'd once done to Ames White -- but his instincts told him that confrontation wasn't the way out of this predicament. However, something else might be ...

Bremmer straightened and turned to Jake. "Take him to the cell," he ordered. "Give him clothes, food, water, and a blanket. He's not to be damaged in any way. The helicopter will be here at dawn to fly us to the airport. This time tomorrow, we'll be home with the package we've been waiting so very long to open."

While Jake undid his shackles Alec watched the Red guard closely. Time to change tactics. He knew damn well that his sexuality ... his so-called "beauty" ... was a weapon that could be as potent as any firearm. Catching the big man's eye, the X5 gave him the tiniest of smiles and asked, "Will I be under your watch?"

The Red soldier responded with a sharp look.

Alec shrugged as he was pulled to his feet. "Hey," he said easily. "My allegiances are flexible. Maybe you and me can work somethin' out. Manticore designed me to be many things to many people."

Jake still didn't reply out loud, not in front of his commanding officer, but the hand pressing boldly against Alec's ass as he was shoved out of the room spoke volumes.