Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners (Dark Angel, Fox, etc.) The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Chapters from 01 to 04 had been reposted, due the fact that now I have a Beta Reader who did the amazing job of correcting grammar errors and typos on the texts.
Thanks to Kita for the great job.

Chapter 3
Out of the Shadows

It was the illusion of being unknown what attracted him to this place.
It was the need to be surrounded by people without having to answer questions which made him stay.

If he was going to be honest the place was a sad excuse for a bar, dimly illuminated and with air saturated with the smoke of cigars and the stench of beer. At least it had a decent scotch. And for now, that was a good enough reason for him to stay exactly where he was.

Not many people were brave enough to leave the safety of their homes to face the storm falling upon the city; as a result of the weather conditions the bar was currently half full or half empty, it really depended on the eye of the beholder.

For Alec this was a good change from Crash's usual routine. The good thing about being in a place for the first time was the lack of expectations to be fulfilled. Nobody knows or cares about what you do as long as you don't intrude in their lives.

Tonight he didn't have to flirt with every female on the radio; he didn't have to act like the happy-go-lucky-sociopath everyone expected. Right here and now he was able to forget about the daily mask he chose to wear.

At least for a couple of hours, he could be just himself.

Despite the common opinion, responsibility is not something he's incapable of. Therefore, he's not a screw up all the time and he definitely doesn't need a baby sitter watching his back 24/7.

He's a good listener when the occasion calls for it.
Sometimes he prefers watching people better than interacting with them.
And wonder of wonders he likes reading specially the classics, although he can't remember when this particular hobby started.

It has always been a matter of choices for him, even before Manticore burned down.

It was his choice lying to Renfro about the "successful copulation", that specific term amuses him even now. There're a lot of things he might be, but he had never forced himself on a girl and he never planned on changing that record, not even for Manticore. The lie has been his decision and probably if the place hadn't been blown away there would have been repercussion on his end.

It had also been his choice not to kill Logan Cale. And Max was aware of that.

After the fire it had been his choice to become the character he's now hiding from. It's not like he's two different people, multiple personalities is not exactly his thing. This side of him, the one he let people became accustomed during the last months is simply easier to keep. He performs according to the world expectations, nothing more and nothing less.

The world labeled him as "a pretty boy" because of the way he looks, he might hate the expression but it fit his own purposes, so he acted as the world expected.

Women accepted the label he already had and added another tag, "the playboy" and once again he performed as expected.

He might play the role of a playboy but he wasn't a cheater, in order to cheat you need to be in an exclusive relationship and that was something he never promised to any of the girls he had been with.

He made a critical mistake, Max saved his life in exchange of her happiness and therefore he became "the screw up and self centered jerk", with Max you always get more than what you expected. And in order to deliver according to the expectations of the public he screws up on small things from time to time, just for the sake of pretenses.

As any regular bio-engineered being he is bounded to make mistakes at some point of his life. He had his fair share of those since Manticore burned down.

Fighting had been so far his worst idea and the only logical explanation he can come up with is the need he felt to rebel against the rules. Max said lay low and he chose not to follow the advice.

It was always a matter of choices with him.

It was his choice to make the deal with White, despite the stupidity of it. It was also his choice to kill the transgenic in the sewers. It was his decision to spare the kid's life, tempting fate and trying to outsmart White. It hadn't exactly worked out as planned; still it was a risk he decided to take.

But, it had been Max's choice to save his life.

He never asked for it and to some degree he felt proud about that. He's not the kind of person who asks for help or request favors, that pat of his personality is also his choice.

He wasn't afraid to die then and he's not afraid now. He made the deal with White not because of fear but for his own convictions. He didn't want to give someone else the power of controlling his death, not White or anyone else. In a way it was a very twisted reasoning, but his arguments were valid to him, and that was what mattered.

He didn't need to explain his motives to someone else; he didn't need people to understand them, to understand him. The latter will imply getting closer to someone and he wasn't interested on that.

Alec raised his glass and looked as the amber liquid reflected the light and its color became more intense. Drowning down the liquor he welcomed the burning taste of alcohol sliding down his throat. He doesn't remember when he started to drink scotch, and now he wonders if it matters.

Apparently there are a lot of things he doesn't remember about himself.

He's not sure what he's seeking, or to express it better, what's catching up with him. He only knows that ever since the dreams started, it's feels like he is being awakened. Things are the same but he looks at them differently. Every night he gets a glimpse of a life he doesn't remember.

The questions remain the same, are all of those memories fragments of something real or just the product of his imagination. Too many pieces are still missing and he can't see the whole picture yet. He only had one corner of the puzzle completed, but there's no way to tell how big is it, or how long will it take him to figure it out.

Only time will tell. And for now he had plenty of it in his hands.

Biggs raised an eyebrow as he looked in Alec's direction. Trust the guy to get himself entertained by looking at a glass. He could bet that the amber liquid is scotch, knowing Alec it will be straight with no ice in order to maintain the original flavor of the malt.

Memory is complex and tricky, it's kind of funny how Alec would unconsciously remember his favorite drink but remain ignorant of the bigger and more important events of his life.

Even now Biggs found hard to believe that merely ten feet away from his table is sitting the man they believed dead. He hasn't changed that much since the last time he saw him, although more than 16 months had passed since that.

At first impression his hair seems to be shorter, but is his eyes that caught Biggs attention; those hazel irises had lost the reckless and indomitable sparkle that used to be Alec's trademark. His friend doesn't look like himself.

What had been planned as a regular assignment suddenly turned out on something completely different, marking the beginning of the end of life as they used to know it.

Alec and Nicole's death was the trigger in a chain of events that were still in motion. It had been surreal, one day they were there, the next one both were reported death. For all the training they had, nothing could have prepared them for something like that.

It took two days for the remaining eight members of the Elite to get back on their feet. It was ironic that it had been Peter McAllister who brought them back to reality. The old man had practically kicked them out and ordered them to do something.

The precise words had been 'Being missing does not equal as being dead. Find the bodies or find them alive, but do something about it'.

Biggs chuckled at that; McAllister was indeed a piece of work.

There was something undeniable about Peter McAllister that makes people look up at him. It didn't matter if you're a genetic enhanced human being, a minister or a beggar, when McAllister gives you an order, you simply follow his command. There wasn't room for questions.

Months of research and investigation had to pass before they were able to grasp the information they had been looking for. In the end they were back where everything had begun, it has always been Manticore.

One good thing about Manticore's employees was their lack of values, it didn't matter if it was a military officer or a technician, for the right price all of them cooperate. And when money was not the correct tool to be used, there were other ways and means to accomplish their goals.

A very bad thing about Manticore was the chain of command regarding classified information. Employees only received the vital information they needed to get their job done. The scattered data they obtained demanded a lot of time to be ordered and classified before they could evaluate if it was useful.

Manticore has been extremely careful erasing the trail of its double-cross game. Employees had been eliminated and files were destroyed. If the events that transpired during the winter of 2018 ever saw the light, the implications will have been a death sentence for the organization and its directors.

The take down attempt on Manticore Wyoming facilities by the same X5's who escaped from there ten years ago had slowed down their advance. Finn and Kevin had wondered at the time, what exactly was the result that the merry group of niners had been looking for.

Later, the demise of the Seattle compound had been a complete mess. If the first attempt made no sense at all, the second was bordering stupidity. The last free voice of America had filtered so much information on the public that all the tabloids of the nation should probably build him a statue as a sign of their gratitude. How Eyes Only didn't consider the power of the media was a mystery. The fragile cover story provided by the government only served to fuel the speculations and rumors, it had been the perfect recipe for a disaster.

Whoever was responsible for the cauterizing of the site had done it without hesitation. The saddest part, if you were a transgenic, had been the amount of victims.

Only 20 of the transgenic population of the facility had survived the fire which could have been translated in around 60 souls. The majority of those belonged to the last X Series. Considering those figures only 10 or 15 of the survivors were part of the earlier series, and maybe it was better that way. Biggs could only imagine the panic that will reign in the city if transgenic with too much animal features started wandering around. It will be chaos ensured.

At the time, Seattle's facility destruction screwed up on their work; the flames destroyed all the saved files regarding the processes applied to the X5's sent to Re-indoctrination. Once again, they lost time and valuable information; but, the scared scientists were easier to track this time.

And finally, they found out half of the story.

They found Alec and the process that was used on him along with the treatment to reverse it.

The process was developed by Robert Fanning, a neurobiologist who worked for Manticore during his entire career. The doctor involvement with Alec's procedure and his deep knowledge of Manticore's latest projects were the main reasons for the inclusion of his name in the Cleaning List. A tragic car accident ended his life during winter the spring of 2019.

Luckily for the Elite, his assistant was alive and became their main source of information.

The mind control process was created to adjust the behavior of the subject by blocking specific parts of the brain using chemical stimuli in conjunction with other elements. Therefore a complete brainwash was no longer needed. The process also allowed the doctors to replace the blocked events with any other kind of information. It required maintenance and every six months a drug cocktail needed to be inoculated on the patient along with regular sessions of ocular therapy.

Manticore also needed to cover up the modifications on Alec's genetic code. Cerebral inhibitors were injected on his blood stream to restrain the enhancements developed by Prometheus' scientists.

The barcode in the back of the neck was the only thing Manticore wasn't able to reproduce by using chemicals suppressors. It had been one of the first things Prometheus eliminated from their DNA code, replacing the sequence by another visual identification a little less controversial. Manticore had to settle with tattooing the black lines of the barcode.

Psychological torture involving the destruction of the subject emotional balance had been applied twice during Alec's stay inside Manticore's walls. The first time it had been along the Fanning process, and the second as a part of a reconditioning process after a failed outside assignment.

They have done their homework and research, and now it was time to start reversing all the processes.

Four months ago Manticore got out of the picture and according to the data they had, Alec spent three days in the medical ward two and a half months before the fire. The lack of ocular therapy diminished the strength of the inhibitors. A couple of weeks ago the chemicals had started to wear off Alec's blood stream. There were still a lot of DNA suppressors on his body and Biggs intended to speed up the process.

Neil had been following Alec during the last week and he reported the changes in his behavior. They believed that he was slowly regaining his memory. Now they needed to provide the physical evidence to sustain the memories.

Biggs' task for the night was to deliver the first of a three shots series.

The only visible mark of the chemical cocktail designated to eliminate the cerebral inhibitors will be a small red dot, which will fade in a couple of hours. The needle will go through layers of clothes, enter the epidermis and deliver the mix directly in his blood stream.

The side effects of the shot were not critical. Thirty minutes after the shot, Alec might feel a mild fever that will pass within two hours. And then it will begin, first with the re-appearance of the tattoo on his right shoulder blade, Prometheus' symbol for all the Elite members.

Four hours later his sight, hearing and smell senses will be enhanced.

Six hours later his speed and strength will have surpassed the X5 average values.

The complexities of the process applied had forced them to work individually on each of them. While it was true that they could have pumped all the drugs at once, the risk of compromising his brain and heart was too high. They needed to be patient and go step by step. In the first stage the physical inhibitors will go down, and then once he was stable they will continue with the psychological part.

Biggs watched as Alec talked on his phone and smirked at something the other person said. The expression of the cat that ate the canary was present on his face, and for a second Biggs saw a glimpse of the real Alec.

A couple of minutes later Alec left some bills on the counter and walked to the door.

Biggs' lips curved on a smile. That was the signal he had been waiting for.

Let the games begin.

It's been a while since he enjoyed a quiet night.

The Jaws tune startled him and Alec couldn't help but sigh. He will never hear the end of it if he keeps ignoring Max's calls. With a suffered expression he retrieves his phone from his jacket and subdued to accept fate designs.

'What's up Max?'

'Where the hell are you? I've been calling to your cell all night' There's a tone in her voice that told him she's more bored than angry at him.

'Why the sudden interest Maxie?' He can't help it, getting her riled up had officially become his latest hobby.

'Who said it was me. Logan needs some help'

'And that concern me because…'

'Because this is EO stuff and two people of our kind are better than one, besides you own me.' Brief and straight to the point, typically Max.

'What do I get from it?'

'The notion that you will be doing something good for someone else besides yourself'

'Funny Max, but you know that I couldn't care less about the white knight complex. Let's say you help me with my own two-man-job, it's a piece of cake, in and out. And you get the 30. What you say?'

'40' Yeah, sure Max. No way in hell.

'You called me, not the other way around'

'Fine 35'

'Come on Max, my offers is way better than yours. Admit it.'

'God I hate you. Fine I get 30 of the fence. Now get your ass down here'

'Pleasure making business with you'

He can't help the smile that creeps on his face. Max should have already learned that he doesn't play the white knight for nothing. Not when someone else is going to get the credits and not if it means getting soaked on a storm night.

He asked the barkeeper for the last scotch of the night, drinking it in a single shot. He left the money on the counter plus a good tip. The guy had been his kind of barkeeper, the kind who doesn't like to engage in small talk. Maybe he will come back to this place.

Alec walked to the entrance only to collide with a girl who fell over him successfully making him loose his balance. In order to avoid his own fall he stepped back and bumped on a guy standing behind him who had stood up from his table trying to help the girl.

In the distance, he heard a clunk as a metal tray hit the floor followed by a loud crash as bottles and mugs got smashed as well.

There's a small prickle on his left shoulder, but he didn't have time to react. He's distracted by the girl's apologies as she straightens up his shirt and jacket. She's barely a teenager and probably this was her first day. He only nodded and smiled, reassuring her that there's nothing wrong with him.

By the time he turned around he saw the same guy picking up the girl's tray and placing on it the shattered pieces of glass. His face is partially hidden by the position and he can't make out the guy's face.

Alec touched lightly his shoulder, massaging the spot where he felt the prickle. It's weird but it doesn't hurt at all. Shrugging it off, he walked outside the bar. He still needs to check with Logan and Max.

Biggs smiled at the young girl trying to calm her down, it was a good thing that he was the one carrying the tray considering the way she was trembling. He told her that he will pay for all the things that were broken when she fell down, when she looked suspicious at him he simply clarified that he had a younger sister who used to work in a bar. The explanation seemed to appease her doubts.

He left out the real reason. He's feeling a little bit guilty about the whole thing; after all, it was the small metallic sphere that he dropped on the floor as she passed by what caused her fall. Her reaction couldn't have been better; she successfully distracted Alec and gave him the access and time needed to accomplish his goal. Everything was going according to the plan.

Biggs walked out of the bar ten minutes later; taking out his cell phone he dialed Neil's number.

He only waited two rings before Neil answered.

'Stage One has been completed successfully'

'Terrific, have you tagged him?'

'No need, I know where he's going'

'Need back up?'

'Neil, are you really offering yourself to do surveillance from a roof top on a stormy night? You hate rain.'

'I'm in a happy mood, don't get used to'

'Figures, meet me at the building across Foggle Towers'

'Fine'

Biggs laughed inwardly and played with the idea of calling Finn or CC to let them now about the advance they had tonight. At the last moment he chose not. It was too soon, Neil and him still needed to complete the surveillance for the next six hours.

He wondered how the rest of them were doing; it's been four days since his last a meeting with Finn, CC or Kevin. He needed an update on the current status of everyone else. During the last 16 months their main activity has been finding out what happened that day; however, it didn't mean that they stopped participating on missions they considered relevant.

The current command line inside the Elite, or D1 as they called it, moved Finn and himself to the positions of CO and SIC, leaving CC and Kevin as 1st and 2nd Lieutenants.

The last time he checked on them Kevin and May were still on Helsinki, Seth and Mark had been coordinating a retrieval mission with the MI5 in Sydney.

By now, CC and Finn should be wrapping up the situation in Osaka, it will probably take at least two weeks and then they will be flying back to the US to meet him and Neil in Seattle.

Slowly things were going back to normalcy.

By the time Alec arrived at Logan's apartment he was completely soaked and utterly pissed off. Most part of the people do not enjoy spending long periods of time under the rain, Alec wasn't an exception to the rule.

Lately, he had come to hate the feeling of wet clothes in contact with his body. He guessed that if he would be on a mission he could deal with it because his mind would focus on the environment and not on himself. Right now he wished there were any external elements diverting his attention, making him think in something else besides the way his clothes felt against his body.

It wasn't the water per se which made him uncomfortable; it was the similarity of water and blood that his mind came up with. Water soaked fabrics clanged to his body in the same way they did when soaked in blood. He really can't help the shivers that go through his body or the way the hair in the back of his neck stands. He hates the scent of blood, the scent of death heavy in the air. He hates that his mind is the one playing tricks on him now.

The elevator ride took an eternity in reaching the Penthouse; usually he wouldn't have minded but today the faster he could get the clothes of his body, the better he will be feeling.

He picked the lock in seconds and walked inside of the other man's apartment as if it was his own, eventually he found the couple in Logan's office.

'Can I have a towel?' His voice was horse and he assumed that is just a result of the time he just spent under the rain.

'You look like a drowned rat'

'Thanks Max, I feel better now. Back to the towel topic…'

'Bathroom is on the second door, help yourself'

'Thanks'

Alec's exit of the room is not as graceful as usual; if so it's looks rushed and clumsy. A water trail has been left on the floor and carpet, with small puddles in the place were he stood.

'Does he seem off to you?' Logan couldn't recall seeing Alec looking uncomfortable about anything, it was intriguing him.

'It's raining cats and dogs out there; I'm surprised he actually came' Max looked in the direction of the door, it really surprised her that he came. If it wouldn't have been Logan who called her, she won't have left her apartment. The job Alec had on mind must really be worth it to drag him on a night like this.

Alec discarded his jacket and shake it off, leaving it over the sink where it had better chances to get dry. He will need it when he goes back to his place. His t-shirt is a lost cause; the cotton piece is soaked beyond return. For now he will settle with the towel, after all he's not sure that Logan will appreciate to have him parading half naked in his apartment.

Despite being in front of a mirror he missed the faint marks over his right shoulder blade. If he would have paid attention he would have noticed the design that was slowly appearing on his skin. Only he didn't.

Throwing the bath towel over his shoulders he decided that it was time to learn what was Eyes Only needed this time around.

Two figures stood up on the rooftop of a building, their silhouettes were hidden in the shadows. The pair was focused on watching the apartment across the street.

'I'm wet'

'Really? And here I thought that was usually the girl's line. I'm flattered, this is a first but you know I don't swing that way.'

'Funny, you're a comedian now.'

'Come on Neil, you walked on that one by yourself. Besides I told you I could do this myself, you offered coming'

'Momentary insanity, it won't happen again.'

'None of us enjoy the drowned-rat-look, quit the bitching and endure it like a man.'

'Biggs?'

'Yeah'

'Shut up'

A chuckled was heard followed by a thump as hand connected with the back of a head.