After leaving 494 to snivel and bleed in the hallway, I boarded a private helicopter bound for Seattle. The two pilots and another director nodded curtly at me as I sat down in a relatively comfortable seat, stretching out my long legs in front of me, while I yawned tiredly.

"To Seattle?" a pilot with a Mexican accent asked no one in particular.

"Yes. To Seattle," I replied, and snuggled down into my plush bench, anxious to get some sleep, for I knew it would be a long ride. I had my food to run on, so all I needed now was just a little bit of rest…

"Alanza?" he asked as he too, stood up.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"When you get back, I…I probably won't be here."

"You're leaving?" I cried in disbelief as I twisted around to face him.

"Mm-hmm."

"But why? Lydecker's dead. You got a family here. Us! Krit, Syl, Brin, Max Jr.…they're all here!"

"I know that," he acknowledged.

"What about Mom?"

"Look, Alanza," he began, glanced away at the floor, then back at me before continuing, "I may be your dad, and she may be your mom, but we won't ever be like…like…y'know…"

"Lovers?"

He nodded mutely. "We got mixed up together by mistake…no offense."

"None taken," I responded.

"She…Max… has someone that she loves. And it's not me-"

"Don't you still love her?"

"Of course I have. I always will. Just because I leave doesn't mean that I stop."

So, Elizabeth Renfro rose back to her feet and faced Dad again. "And Max? What is she to you? Girlfriend? Wife? Lover?" she sneered.

"She's a mother," I finally said, stepping forward. There was a moment of stark silence that followed my admission. Elizabeth's eyes grew wide, then a crooked smile formed on her thin, aged lips.

"You must be the child that 'Deck died searching for."

"Perhaps," I admitted. I could see the anger flash in Dad's eyes, but I had to ignore it. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but seeing Mom alive. I thought that maybe if I was able to bargain with this psycho lady, she would free Mom.

"You are. You're his ultimate creation." She smiled warmly to herself. "I'm surprised you're alive after so many years. It was assumed that you were either an abortion or had disappeared into a far-off country."

"You wish."

"I bet you want to see your mom alive and well more than anything."

"Yes," I acknowledged.

"Well," she said, running a wrinkled finger over the bottom of her chin as she sat down in her overstuffed leather chair. "I can make that happen…under one condition."

"Which is what?"
"I want a trade."

"A what?" I hissed, although I pretty well knew what she was getting at.

"A trade. Your father, one of these X5s, or yourself."

"Never," I growled.

"Then X5-452 will die."
"Who?"

Elizabeth laughed evilly with a cackle that made my blood freeze. "Why, Zack, you haven't told your daughter all about Manticore? I'm ashamed. After all, she was to be the perfect soldier. I assumed that you would have filled her in on all of your days of glory back at Manticore."

Dad said nothing, but I could tell that he was quickly forming a plan inside his twisting mind.

But, Elizabeth turned back to me. "X5-452 is your mother, dear. Max Guevara. Your father, Zack, as I'm sure you figured out is X5-599. Two of the most powerful soldiers that 'Deck ever created. And, you." She shook her head as she eyed me over like a prize to be won. "How did he ever manage to create you so well?"

All in all, the apartment was a war zone with dirty footprints on the walls, dents smashed into cupboards that hung lazily by broken hinges, and food that had been sitting on the countertop mashed into the ground.

I turned away from the scene and was about to go into the extra bedroom, when something met my precise eyes. Scrambling towards the object that shone in the apartment light, I crouched down and picked up Dad's watch. Surprisingly, it wasn't broken or cracked, but perfectly in tact as if he had thrown it before blackness welcomed him in. An inner sixth sense told me that he had left it for me to find. I knew, then, that I was my family's only hope for escape from Manticore. After all, it didn't take a genius to put the puzzle together: Lydecker in the restaurant, James missing, and my family taken away. Mom was right; Lydecker was back and I waited one moment too soon. Had I not left to find James in vain, perhaps I could've saved them. Now, they were suffering because of me.

"415? 415?" the voice called.

I groaned impatiently, rubbing at the corners of my crusty eyes. Outside, the moon was high in the sky, throwing out its pale rays to inspect the snowflakes that lay in perfected rows on the ground. Thin, scraggy trees caught the moonlight, then threw their shadows to the ground, blurring the glittering snowflakes. Far in the distance, past the point of mortal eyes, I could see the sun straining to rise and battle the moon for control of the sky.

God, how long had I been asleep? Finally, sitting up and stretching aimlessly while cracking every feasible bone in my body, I glanced over to Agent Stevens who sat across from me, with an eyebrow arched curiously.

"Sleeping on the job, soldier?" he asked.

"Preparing for a mission, sir," I curtly responded, popping my knuckles one by one.

I detested Stevens with a passion, and I made sure that he knew it. After all, I had caught him peeping more than once around some innocent X12s during shower time and watching them far too intently in practice; a fact that I had mentioned to Colonel Lydecker on numerous occasions. Colonel, trusting my good judgement, had then placed increased security cameras around the facility and gave me permission to do what I wanted to with Stevens if anything perverse ever happened again. Many directors believed that the Xs and I were nothing but a bunch of lab rats that could be easily manipulated and manhandled; Colonel understood that we had a purpose, for he loved and cared for us as if we really were his family. Some may have called him harsh, but in every family, rules are rules, and they thus must be followed.

Stevens ran a pale hand through his white hair that sparsely covered the top of his oily head. "You understand your mission, 415?"

"Yes, sir."

"Lydecker has briefed you on it already, I'm assuming."
"Yes, sir."

"Good," he grunted and busied himself with staring out the window, trying to see the world below that his ordinary human eyes could not grasp. "We'll be landing in about ten minutes."

"Yes, sir," I responded, and let us both lapse into some much needed silence. Bored, I slipped into his head and discovered that he was occupied with wondering if his wife was out that Friday night because he had new girlfriend that he needed to see-and screw.

I, though, was bothered about the dreams I had experienced. They seemed much more than just mere hallucinations, of which I had encountered before and was able to bat away with ease. The people, their voices, the scenery…Everything was so damn familiar. Fervently, I shook my head, convincing myself that they were just self-deceptions, and it was quite asinine to be worrying about something so pointless.

As I looked down at the grinning icy world below, I wondered if-when I got back to Wyoming after the Sandoval mission-I could convince Colonel to sign me up for a psy-ops treatment. Obviously, there were still some pesky memories dancing around my mind, and I wanted them removed as soon as possible.