A/N:  This one's not as long as the last chapter, but I didn't think you wanted to wait half a year for more. : )

This is just partially beta'd so excuse any mistakes.  I'll take care of them later.  Thanks to Petal for her kindness and help.  This starts with the final words from chapter 7.

Chapter 8

"Alec," he rasped, "My name…is Alec."

The Colonel stood abruptly at hearing 494's voice, and rushed outside the Command Post.  Just as he stepped out a series of explosions went off.  He flinched while instinctively raising a protective arm in front of his face.   Clemente and Gamble rushed out beside him and watched in horror as fire and smoke rose up from the City in an immense ball.  Then a second set of explosions went off followed by the sound of rumbling, as building after building began to collapse in on themselves.

"Oh my God, Colonel. Your men!" Clemente hollered, a look of shock on his face.

Colonel Foster turned to Gamble, his face emotionless, and nodded.  Gamble knew what to do.

"Delta teams two, three, and four report," he waited. No reply.

"Delta teams two, three, and four report."  Long seconds seem to tick by when finally…

"This is team two, three wounded, no casualties, all accounted for, sir."

"Team three, reporting.  No casualties, 5 men still missing."

"Team four, we have some injuries, no casualties."

Gamble visibly sighed in relief.  "Return to Command post. We'll send Medics to meet you.  Team three assist Teams two and four and retrieve our missing soldiers. We believe you'll find them in Sector 3 not far from where the first charges went off."

"Yes Sir."

John Gamble watched as the smoke rose ominously from the City.  He'd hoped it wouldn't have come to this. Frustration overtook him and his breathing increased as he grabbed his com link and tore it from around his neck.  Turning to the Colonel, he stepped forward.  "Sir?" He wanted to explain himself, but he couldn't.  Unable to hold eye contact with the Colonel, he looked away and ran a shaky hand over his face.    

Standing with his hands on his hips, the Colonel turned away from the site, closing his eyes in an effort to control his own emotions. He couldn't berate his Second in Command.  He understood all too well the feelings overwhelming him.   He'd failed to bring about a peaceful solution with the soldier known as X5-494, but he knew too that had it been him in his place, he would not have done different.  Opening his eyes he turned to look at Clemente, who had slowly shrunk to the ground, knees drawn staring wide-eyed and in shock at the smoke and fire.

"Alec," the Colonel spoke softly to him.

"What?" Clemente asked, not sure he heard right.

"His name was Alec."

"I wish he hadn't told us," Clemente lamented, "When it was just 494, it didn't seem…personal.  Now I…I don't know what to feel." 

Foster's eyes darted to the ground as guilt fought its way into his heart.

"He was right you know," Clemente spoke up suddenly.

"What are you talking about?  What was he right about?"

 "Alec…he was right." Clemente had seen and heard enough.  It was time to make what he knew known.  "It's not the transgenics you we need to worry about."

"Why?  Because 494…Alec said so.  I wish it was that simple, but his word is still not enough."

Standing up, Clemente turned to face Colonel Foster. "I have something you need to see."  Pulling the CD from his pocket, he held out a shaky hand. 

                                                                        ~ ~ ~

Mole had turned the corner at the junction just as the last of the explosions went off.  Bracing himself against the wall he looked back. 

"Come on…come on," he urged, his hand tapping the wall in a nervous rhythm, but Alec didn't come around the corner.   Mole stared back toward freedom and grabbed what was left of his cigar.   'I don't owe him anything,' Mole's mind reasoned as he continued toward what he knew was life.   'He knew the stakes…he knew.'  But Mole's body warred with his reasoning and forced him to look down at what was in his hand…a cigar…a stinkin' piece of rolled up vegetation.

"That son of a bitch is gonna owe me big time."

 Turning abruptly, Mole ran back in the direction he'd come and to what he hope would not be his death.          

                                                ~ ~ ~ 

Max's head jerked up as she came to a sudden stop.  Turning slowly back toward Seattle, her breathing quickened at the sight before her.  She took a few steps back the way she came and watched as a series of explosions grew to form a giant fireball that rose above Terminal City.

A strangled whisper escaped her lips, "No." 

She felt Biggs come close and put a hand on her shoulder.  They stood together and watched as the buildings began to collapse and dust and debris ascended like a monstrous shadow.  A few seconds later, the rumbling sound reached her ears.  Max felt her lips quiver and her heart constrict. A lone tear began to fall.  Wiping it roughly, she pulled away from Biggs and started forward, once again, back in the direction of the City, her movements more frantic with each step. 

Biggs tried to grab her arm in an effort to stop her.  She jerked away and stumbled forward.

 "Max…Max, stop!"

She ignored him and continued.

"Max…Max!"

Max felt him grab her again and she turned to face him.

"No…no I have to go back. I have to find him." She tried desperately to pull away, but his grip tightened.

"No, Max you can't go back there!"

 Anger surged in her and she swung her fist in his direction.  Bigg's head snapped to the side at the blow, but his hold never wavered.  Instead he grabbed her other arm and jerked her toward him.  When she began to struggle his hand reached around her back in a blur of movement and pulled her close against his chest and trapping her arms.  When her struggles increased, he pulled her even tighter and held on, ignoring the pleas that cut deep into his heart and the pain that flared in his shoulder.   Finally when he thought he couldn't hold on any longer her struggles began to wane. He lowered his head, his lips near her ear and whispered.

"If he's alive, he'll come." 

"Please," her voice desperate and low, "I have to go back."

"No Max…you have to lead."

Biggs felt her body collapse against him and begin to shake as sobs wracked her body.  He felt his own eyes grow heavy with tears and gently rubbed her head with his cheek.

"He'll come, Max…he will." 

He felt her hands move and he released the pressure of his hold, allowing her to reach around his body.  His heart broke when he felt her clutch his shirt tightly, pulling him impossibly closer. Burying his face in her neck, he allowed his own grief to join Max in her feelings of helplessness.

                                                                        ~ ~ ~              

Mole turned the corner and immediately found himself dodging debris as the force of the explosion moved in his direction. Using his arm to cover his head, he pressed forward with caution.  Not fifteen feet in front of him, he could see Alec turn over on his stomach and try to pull himself forward, covering his head when flying debris flew in all directions around him.   Grunts of pain and effort reached his ears prompting Mole to move swiftly.   Turning sideways, Mole managed to dodge a large piece of debris that hurtled toward him.  Too late, though, to respond to a second smaller piece, glancing off his back.  Cursing, he continued to move unable to avoid the increasing pieces of debris as they rained down from all sides.  Mole's own grunts of displeasure joining in with Alec's. 

Alec could feel his strength waning with each effort.  Inside he knew it was useless, but he had to try.  He'd promised.  Her kiss lingered in his memory, her face played in front of him.   He refused to give up as bloody hands reached out in front of him pulling, dragging, and scraping his body along.  Pieces of rock, wood, and dirt smacked into him, bruising him, slowing his progress, as the ceiling seemed to fall all around.  With each hit, darkness played at the edges of his vision.  Her face once so clear now blurred and seemed to fade away.

"No," he cried, "No!"

"What do you mean no, get your ass up!"

"Huh?" Alec felt something grab a hold of him and jerk him in an upward direction and the once beautiful vision turned into…"Oh God!"  He shut his eyes.    

"Shut up!  Let's go."

Mole pulled Alec's arm across his shoulder, but felt him push away and sag toward the ground.  

"Oh no you don't, Mole urged, while pulling back up, "Come on, Alec.  Help me here."

"Uh…ca…can't…leg won't…work.  Go…you need…to…to go."

The Rumble of collapsing buildings roared through the tunnel and the ground beneath them began to tremble.  Mole glanced back and what he saw made his heart pound.  A thick cloud of debris and dust was rushing toward them at an incredible rate.  There was no time to waste. 

"No way pretty boy, I need more cigars." 

No longer careful, he jerked Alec up and over his shoulder, blocking out the cries of pain that filled his ears and moved quickly forward.  Mole felt his heart constrict when Alec's body, at first tense, suddenly went limp.   Sprinting in the direction of safety, he pushed his emotions aside.  Determination now controlled his moves, as he maneuvered over and around obstacles in their path.  Dust and dirt swirled all around, blocking his nose and filling his mouth making it hard to take in a full breath. The junction lay within reach.  'Just a few more feet,' his mind screamed, 'We can make it.' 

But it was not to be, as the force of the debris cloud reached them, propelling him and his burden up into the air.  Mole impacted the ground forcing what little air he had to rush from his lungs.  He felt the weight on his shoulders tumble forward over his head and roll ahead of him like a limp rag doll. 

"No, can't lose you now," he  barely rasped out, as he scrambled forward frantically on hands and knees, reaching ahead in a desperate effort to catch Alec before he was beyond reach.    

Alec's body slammed into the far corner of the junction, jarring his senses, forcing consciousness to the fore with what felt like a kick in the ribs.  Unable to think clearly, his own instinct of self-preservation caused him to react, reaching out and grabbing hold of anything as he slid past.  His hand clamped down as it came in contact with a piece of metal jutting out, a pipe.  Pain radiated through his body, stealing his breath and trying to break his resolve.   He could hear a voice calling him, telling him to hang on.   So he did.

Mole knew there was no way they could make it into the junction now, so he let his body move past it and reach out.  Grabbing the same pipe, his body swung around smacking into Alec with a grunt.  Alec's hold on the pipe was lost on impact and Mole could feel his body slipping away.

"I said hold on, damn it!"

Snatching his hand before he could slip further away, Mole let out a yell of determination as he pulled Alec back up and wrapped his legs around him as an anchor.   Then pushing Alec's face toward his chest for protection, he reached up and grabbed the pipe with his now free hand.   It felt as if his arms would rip from his body as the force of debris increased.   Finally after what seemed like an eternity it began to wane leaving in it's wake dust, dirt and rock burying the two Manticorians.

                                                                        ~ ~ ~

Gamble sat forward, watching intently the screen before him of the events at Jam Pony.  What he was seeing was incomprehensible.  Yet the evidence was right there in front of him.  They were not transgenics, but what were they?  As he watched closely his eyebrows knitted together when…

"That's him," Gamble announced, his voice reserved. 

"What are you talking about?" Clemente replied, leaning forward to get a closer look.

Lt. Gamble reached out and paused the video file.  He pointed to a young man, clutching his arm as he backed away from the tactical team member he was fighting.  It gave them the first clear picture of his face.  Gamble had recognized it from the Manticore pictures on file.

"That's him," Gamble repeated, "494…Alec."

"Are you sure?" Clemente asked.

"Watch, I'll show you."  Gamble's hands moved quickly over the computer keyboard and accessed the Manticore file showing X5-494.  "See, it's him."

"But he was wounded.  Are you telling me this wounded man got the best of your teams?"

"Yes Sir, he sure did," John's words sounded with special pride, "He was created to be a superior soldier.  His wounds, nor the pain would be allowed to interfere with the completion of a mission.  They were taught to push it aside.  Short of death, they're virtually unstoppable."

"My God!" Clemente exclaimed.

He stared hard at the face before him.  A supersoldier? 'He couldn't be more than 20 or 21 years old.'  Clemente's mind was in a whirl of awe and sorrow.  This young man had outwitted three Delta Force Teams and held them at bay while his unit…no, his family escaped.  Leaning his elbows on the table, Clemente rubbed his face with his hands.  What he was learning was beginning to overwhelm him.  All of this was so unnecessary.  He couldn't contain the anger that rose from within.  Anger for the needless loss of life.  Anger for what the government created.  Most of all anger for the young man in front of him, who never had the chance to live a normal life.  Standing abruptly he turned and began to pace.  Stopping to face the Colonel, he waved his hand toward Terminal City. 

"This shouldn't have happened, Colonel.  That boy should never have been put in a position like that.  What the hell were you people thinking?" he yelled.

"You're right.  It shouldn't have come to this.  The ultimate goal, when the Manticore program was started, was to save lives," the Colonel sighed, "The hope was that by creating the perfect soldier, we would lose less in time of war.  Keep loss of life down."

"Well that certainly sounds noble! It doesn't change the fact that people died today.  Yes, people, Colonel.  Anyone that died today was one of them and I can't look at him and separate him from me."  Pointing to the face on the screen, he continued, "Look at him! I don't see a monster. He looks like you and me.  He wasn't some mindless unfeeling robot soldier.  He had a personality, he could feel pain, he had…a family." Clemente turned in frustration his hand falling to his side with a slap. "What happened today can't be for nothing, Colonel.  We have to make it right." 

"Well with this evidence you've given me, it may just be possible to do that…At least for the rest of them."

Gamble let out a short laugh, interrupting the tension that was so thick in the air. 

"He did it, you know," Gamble looked over to the Colonel, and noted their confusion. "He did what he was created to do."

Foster stared at the face on the screen.  "You're right…you are absolutely right."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Clemente asked. 

Gamble couldn't contain his enthusiasm.

"Don't you see it?  My God! He was one X-5 who led maybe 6 or 7 transhumans into a battle against three Special Ops Teams. He determined our strategy and used it against us.  He did what he was trained to do and he succeeded in his mission with minimal loss of life."  Gambled stared at them with a look of awe and sat back hard against his chair.  His eyes once again going to the picture on the screen, and sighed, waving his hand gently toward the screen and speaking softly, "He did it…Sir."

Colonel Foster's shoulders slumped as he turned and stepped to the door of the Command Post.  Leaning against the door jam he watched as the smoke continued to rise above the city and spoke, his voice with an air of defeat. 

"Yes John…he did it."

~ ~ ~ 

White couldn't believe what was happening in front of him.  He stood and watched, anger rising within him like a plague.  Otto sat in the car, a bandage pressed against his head from debris that hurtled its way toward them.  Two other of his men had been injured by debris and were being treated by paramedics.  Some of his men had already entered the sewer system just east of his position when the first set of explosions occurred.   White had moved quickly to avoid the force of the explosion as it ripped through the fence.   National Guard who had been patrolling the perimeter had not been as quick.  Most of the injured had already been shipped to the hospital. Stepping forward, his eyes narrowed, an evil glint manifesting itself.  This was not the end of it.   494 had a way of slipping through death's fingers and White knew he had to be sure.  Looking back he noted Otto was leaning back with his eyes closed.

"I'm going down there.  My gut tells me he's alive and I have no intention of letting him get away again."

Otto opened his eyes, brows knitted in a frown, "No one could survive that.  It took down a whole City block."

"I thought he was dead before, but he managed to escape that only to come back into my life like a plague.  No…I won't accept that he's dead until I see his body or kill him myself."

"Our orders are to apprehend, not kill."

White's anger got the best of him as he closed his fists around Otto's collar, jerking him out of the car and within inches of his face.

"I don't give a damn about any orders!"

Otto flinched slightly, but held his ground.  He was tired of White's ranting. 

"Then you go without me.  I won't disobey orders to satisfy your blood lust."

White's eyes narrowed as he let go and watched as Otto fell to the ground beside the car.

"Fine! I don't need you.  I never did."

Otto looked up from the ground, a grimace on his face from the pain that exploded inside his head and stared defiantly at White. 

White reached around Otto and popped the trunk.  Ignoring Otto's struggles to stand he walked around and reached inside extracting a 12-gauge pump action shotgun.  Stepping back around, White leaned in close to Otto and whispered, his voice cold and deadly.

"If you're not with me, then you're against me.  Make sure you're not here when I get back."

Shoving him with his shoulder, White headed in the direction of Terminal City and disappeared into a manhole.

Catching himself on the car door, all Otto could do was stare after him and wonder at the man's sanity.   Otto had known something was not right for a long time, but he chose to ignore it.  That was something that had to change, gingerly sitting back in the car, Otto reached for the radio mic. 

"Dispatch, this is Special Agent Gottlieb, patch me through to Colonel Foster."

End of Chapter 8

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