DISCLAIMER: All DARK ANGEL characters belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee (Cameron Eglee Productions) and DARK ANGEL itself belongs to FOX.

ARCHIVE: No

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JRAUnlimited.com

It was the only way Alec could think of that could possibly get him to Seattle and help within the time he had left ... the only way that Lydecker and Manticore couldn't reach him and snatch him back.

Keeping the gun trained on Berrisford, he followed the man up the ramp. "Tell the pilot to taxi out onto the runway," Alec said, nodding at the closed cabin door at the end of the jet's narrow aisle.

Berrisford chuckled. "There is no pilot."

"What are you talkin' about?" Alec said. "What do you mean there's no friggin' pilot?" He glanced back the way they'd come, through the open hatch.

"I do the flying," Berrisford said. "I'm the pilot. Sanchez, who you put down out there, was my co-pilot. But I'm not taking the man who murdered my daughter anywhere so you might as well just shoot me now."

Alec rolled his eyes toward the ceiling in exasperation. Shit! "Oh well," he said. "Guess I'll just hafta do this the hard way then. Turn around," he commanded in a low voice.

His hostage obliged. "What are you going to do?" Berrisford asked. "Put a bullet in my brain?"

"No," Alec said with a heavy sigh. "What I'm gonna do is this." The blow to the back of Berrisford's head was expertly delivered ... precise ... the work of a professional. The man crumpled to the deck at the X5's feet, and the transgenic looked toward the cockpit.

*****

"Sir," the sergeant said. "X5-494 is breaking position."

Lydecker came over to the monitoring station and peered over the officer's shoulder at the screen. "Is he heading into the city?" he asked.

The blond young man turned around, his blue eyes narrowed with concern. "No, sir. He's clocking at over a hundred miles per hour in a direction away from the metro area."

Lydecker bent lower, his craggy face worried now as well. Then his jaw clenched. "He's on a plane," he said in a low voice. "Damn it, he's making a run for it."

"Does his tracking device have a destruct?" the sergeant asked. "He's still within range. If it does we can stop him now."

"494's destruct isn't contained within his transceiver," Lydecker said, his eyes still studying the screen and watching the aircraft containing his precious X5 gain even more velocity and make a swing toward the east. "I didn't want him walking around with an explosive in his head that might go off by accident."

"But sir," the officer said. "He's getting away ... deserting."

"He can't get away," Lydecker said, his voice taking on a tone of sadness that puzzled the other man. "Not really. He's committing suicide and he knows it."

"Sir? Should I alert tactical? They could shoot him down."

"Not necessary, soldier," Lydecker said. "494 might be running, but he won't be a liability for very long." He cocked an eyebrow. "Any word as to whether or not the mission was accomplished before the Unit bolted?"

The sergeant spoke to someone on the other end of his com, waited, then looked up and said, "Two unconscious men were found in the hangar where Robert Berrisford kept his jet. However, there's no sign of Berrisford himself. Apparently he's on the plane with 494."

Lydecker scowled. "Interesting," he said more to himself than to the sergeant. "But then 494 always did have ways of coming up with unique solutions to his problems."

*****

Going by the jet's log, Alec was able to talk his way out onto the runway and gain permission to take off, his long ago Manticore flight training coming back to him surprisingly well, especially after consulting the jet's operating manual that was stored under the pilot's seat. Now -- safe and clear in open air space and headed east -- he put the jet on autopilot and turned his attention to his reluctant passenger.

Berrisford, with his hands bound to the arm rests of the co-pilot's seat, glared at the X5, his eyes still somewhat glazed from being unconscious. "What are you going to do now?" he asked thickly. "Why didn't you just kill me if all you wanted was the jet for your little getaway?"

"We're going to Seattle," Alec said. "Once there, you're free to go. I only brought you along 'cause I need you to talk me into the airport there. I don't have the clearance codes."

The man grinned mirthlessly. "What makes you think I'll help you?"

"Because if you don't," Alec said lightly, "I'll just have to land this thing the hard way. Cooperate, and it'll be easier on everyone. Once on the ground you can do what you damn well fucking please -- call the cops ... the military ... hell, you can call the President for all I care and complain about bein' kidnapped by a mutant freak. I just wanna get back to Seattle and my family."

"You mean your Terminal City cohorts?" Berrisford said. "I saw you on the news, you know ... representing the transgenics at Seattle City Council meetings. You have no idea how it galled me to see you being lauded as some kind of new age hero by the public ... a wronged young man who'd been raised in slavery and experimented on as a child."

"I never asked for anyone's pity," Alec said tightly, his eyes checking gauges on the jet's control panel. He made a slight adjustment to the altitude, then put it back on autopilot. "Me and mine just wanna be left alone."

"You're not even human."

"Tell me somethin' I don't already know."

"You dared to touch my daughter and you're not even human."

"I never--" Alec stopped, realizing the man beside him had no reason to believe a word he said. But still ... "I never did that with Rachel ... to her. She was innocent. I'm the only guilty one. But whether you like it or not, I did love her, and she loved me, at least she did until she found out the truth."

"That you were nothing more than a cold blooded freak assassin sent to kill her father?" Berrisford spat.

"She never knew about the Freak part," Alec said quietly, not denying the rest. "But I know she'd have hated me for that, too ... maybe even more than the fact I was a killer." He turned large eyes on the man. "I wish I could talk to her," Alec said. "One last time. I wish she could have heard what I said to her before she died, known how much I loved her." He shrugged. "Maybe she did hear, or maybe she's somewhere now where she knows." He smiled slightly at a sudden thought. "Hey, in a couple of days I might be able to ask her that myself, if you believe in that kind of stuff."

"What are you talking about?" Berrisford said, his dark eyes scrutinizing his kidnapper closely.

"What I'm talkin' about," Alec said, "is the fact I'm gonna be dead in just about forty-eight hours." He smiled again, although his eyes were somewhat vacant as he stared out at the passing clouds. "I'll say 'hello' to her for you if you want ... tell her how much you love and miss her." The words sounded comforting, but the biting sarcasm behind them made clear the X5's cynical nature extended to the hereafter as well as the here-and-now.

"You're going back to Seattle just to kill yourself?" the man wondered, not understanding.

"No," Alec replied, reaching to adjust the jet's altitude again. "I'm goin' back to Seattle to so I can be with people I care about while I die."