Alec knew that, even with their superior speed and agility, they wouldn't be able to escape without getting shot. Not all three of them. He just hoped he didn't have to improvise in response to Max's improvisation, because he didn't feel he was as good at it as she was and could potentially get them all killed. And he really didn't want to get them all killed. And he really didn't want to get shot. Again.

"Aren't you the Roses' boy?" the elder Morino asked. His voice was raspy like an old time blues singer, but less velvety. It maybe came from years upon years of smoking. His yellowed teeth definitely supported the idea. His hair was receding, but his suit was not fitted like many of the new, modern suits had been. This guy had been around since long before the Pulse. They could take him. And if the three of them didn't feel like they could take him and get out of it together, they could run. His reaction time wouldn't be as quick as theirs.

Trip searched Alec's face for some indication of what to do. Max pulled her leg back in and stood up with her hands in the air.

"Those kids think they can pull one over on us," the elder Morino said. "Sent their boy to collect our dough and then disappear before we knew any better."

"No, sir, that's –" Trip tried to interject.

The younger Morino waved down, indicating Trip should be quiet. "You're coming with us," he said. His voice was smooth, as if he hadn't lived a hard day in his life. That kind of life was one of luxury, of a lack of hard times. He didn't have the yellowed teeth of his accomplice. His full head of hair pointed more toward shampoo commercial than The Life. The Morinos must be very well connected, if the elder, patriarchal man was any indication.

With their guns, they gestured for the three soldiers to move toward the elevators. Once inside, the tall, smooth-voiced man hit the button for the top floor. Max and Alec shared a worried glance which seemed to hold some desperate question; it was as if they were asking one another if they had any bright ideas.

Max figured they would wait to make their move until they could route their escape, and that most likely meant they'd need to make a break for it sometime soon.

Within moments, they all stepped off the elevator and headed to the stairwell marked 'ROOF ACCESS'.

"Go on," the younger Morino said, pushing the barrel of his gun into Alec's back.

"Hey, no need to get proddy," Alec said. If this guy had an itchy trigger finger, he could accidentally put a bullet in Alec's spine. No one wanted that. Of all people, he really didn't want to lose the use of his lower extremities.

They climbed up the first half of the flight of stairs, and when turning at the stair landing, Max caught Alec's eyes. In them, she saw a plan forming, and was impressed. So far, she had only thought of two possible scenarios. One: she could disarm the older Morino in front of her, or Alec could disarm the younger Morino behind him, or they could attempt it simultaneously. The problem with this scenario is that it left Trip unprotected. Not that he wasn't old enough to take care of himself or protect himself, but it wasn't a smart play. If anything went wrong, one of them would get shot, and she really didn't want Trip to get caught up in something like that. Not if she and Alec could do anything to prevent it. And she didn't want Alec to get shot. Again. And she didn't want to get herself shot either. Again. The Roses would come looking for Trip, anyway, if they didn't all make it to the roof.

Or the second scenario: wait until they got to the roof and try to stash Trip behind something concrete before she or Alec figured a way down to the west exit, at the bottom of which would sit their SUV, waiting to let them speed off into the safety of the hazy horizon. The problem with this scenario was that she had no idea what the roof had in store for them. It could have an army of more brainwashed transgenics, or another band of White-esque familiars, or the Denver PD.

But Alec's eyes held that hint of a dangerous plan. She wondered what it was.

Trip, Alec, and the other Morino turned on the landing and the party of five continued up the last half of the stairs, spilling out onto the roof.

There was a definite chill in the crisp night air, like the sky was moments away from opening up a ceiling of feathery snow. Max's breath came out in plumes, rising up toward the stars. Though he knew she wouldn't accept it, he began to take his coat off with the intention of offering it to her.

"Hey, no funny business," the younger Morino said, jabbing Alec in the back. "Hands up," he ordered. Alec followed the order, not yet ready to make any moves.

The view from the top of The Lux would have been remarkable under very different and possibly very romantic circumstances, Alec noted. The beauty of a slightly wealthier city, which could afford numerous hotels and skyscraper businesses, and could afford to keep the lights on in them, would call attention to the sea of blinking lights in front of any onlookers. It would be the dark and architectural version of sunset on water. Or at least, that's what he imagined.

At the rooftop, there was a helipad with less than an inch of snow covering it, at which stood who Max assumed to be Christopher and Edward Rose. Expectantly, they stood at ease with their hands folded in front of them. A couple of muscled bodyguards stood to the side, and the pilot and two other bodyguards waited aboard the chopper. All of them were strapped.

And none of us are, Alec observed.

The small group made their way toward the helicopter, the younger Morino angrily pushing Trip between the groups by his neck. This move left Max and Alec between Trip and the two Morinos.

"Thought you could steal from us, did you?" the raspy-voiced mobster asked.

Alec closed his eyes. He did not like the odds created by Trip being put between the two armed groups of mobsters. He needed to change up his plan immediately.

The blonde Rose spoke first. "I think you must have that information backwards, Reynaldo. I think it is you and your nephew who think you can keep shaking us down."

The brunette Rose added, "Which is not the case. Not any longer." His frame tensed.

Reynaldo, the elder Morino, shook his head, laughing, and looked over to his nephew. "Can you believe this, Marco? These kids think they can control the families." He turned back to the Roses and continued. "You have no idea the fire power you're playing with, here."

Marco only mirrored his uncle's movements and laughter. Though armed, he clearly didn't understand what he was doing, and from where she was standing, Max could see that he hadn't clicked off his safety.

"Chris, who's the other two?" asked the brunette brother, eying Alec and Max.

Christopher shook his head. "I don't know who they are. Yours?" He glanced toward the Morinos, who did not find this amusing.

"We caught them with the kid trying to escape out the window. Very clever of you two, but not clever enough." Reynaldo used the barrel of his gun to flick Max and Alec's presence away, as if they were swarming flies.

"Eddie, are they employees?" Christopher asked.

"No, they don't work here," Edward said.

Max and Alec looked at one another nervously. They both knew that what was coming was something along the lines of 'Well, now they've seen our faces'…

"Well what are we gonna do with them?" Edward asked.

Max shifted, little goose bumps forming on her bare legs and arms. She needed to figure out a way to get Alec's attention so she could clue him in on Marco's ineptitude with the safety mechanism. Currently, Alec's stare was fixed on Trip, who stood shaking between the groups like some kind of sacrificial lamb.

"We'll have to take them all with us," Christopher said.

"But we don't have enough room in the chopper."

"Well, then we'll have to make some tough decisions," the older brother added.

Edward unfolded his hands and waved for Trip to approach them with the satchel. "Come on over here, Red," he said.

"Don't make a move, kid," said Reynaldo, he and Marco raising their weapons at Trip between Max and Alec.

Trip turned to look at Alec, unsure of what to do. He hoped his former CO had a plan, because he had a really bad feeling about this.

Alec's eyes burned with concern. It looked like Trip was screwed. He tried to come up with a plan. Suddenly, he heard a sneeze and turned to look at Max.

She had covered her mouth and then returned her hands to her freezing forearms, where she used her right index and middle finger to tap out "SAFETY" on her left arm in Morse code. She let her eyes dart to Marco, who was standing closer to Alec.

Alec realized this was her plan. She could take the elder Morino and Alec could disarm Marco, and as long as Trip could dive out of the way, it would all work out. This was the first step. They just needed to figure out how to get Trip out of the line of fire. If they couldn't think of anything, she'd have to test her speed. She was prepared. She was confident she could beat them.

"Come on, kid, we ain't got all night," started Marco. "Why don't you go ahead and toss us the bag, and then you can go back with your bosses and we can wrap this up for the night. What do you say?" He looked to his uncle to be sure he was saying the right thing. Reynaldo gave him an affirmative head nod.

"And then you show up in two weeks and keep shaking us," Christopher said, swinging his head in the negative. "No, I don't think so, old man. Maybe it's time for you and yours to adapt to the times."

Trip saw Alec's eyes shift toward the bag. "Remember Algeria?" he asked.

Trip nodded and turned back to the Roses.

Max wondered what they had done in Algeria. Trip was maybe only fifteen. Could Manticore have really sent him and Alec together on a mission? And if so, what for? Surely not an assassination…? And she wondered, because she didn't know about their shared history, whether or not her lack of knowledge of the Algeria mission would have negative results. Ultimately, it didn't matter. She was ready. Her blood raced through her veins, making those goose bumps disappear as her core temperature rose with the anticipation.

Both Roses pulled their weapons, and the blonde one said, "Red, come on over here and hand Eddie the bag."

As if perched on the edge of the diving board, waiting for the perfect moment, Alec closed his eyes and visualized how the scene would play out. In that millisecond, he could hear the Roses' weapons being cocked, and could hear the two mobsters behind him shift their stances in preparation.

"Now!" Alec yelled.

With all of his might, Trip flung the bag up into the air, and then blurred to squat behind one of the rooftop fixtures. As the leather satchel sailed up into the night sky, the Roses and Morinos looked up to watch its projection.

Alec turned and ducked under Marco's line of sight. He brought his left fist up under Marco's elbow, and hearing the satisfying crack, effectively disarmed him. The gun fell out of his grasp and Alec caught it and rammed his elbow into Marco's nose, breaking it and knocking him out.

Max dropped to her hands and kicked out at Reynaldo with both feet. Her heels caught him in the shin and thigh, respectively, and he cried out in pain. Instinctively, his hands raced to the injuries to investigate the damage, which caused him to drop his gun. Back on her feet and squatting, Max kicked the gun out of his reach in a sweeping motion. As Reynaldo rubbed at his shins, he tried to scoot behind Max, knowing that he would be the Roses' next target if they could see him. But Max was too quick in joining Trip behind the fixture, and one of the Roses' bodyguards leveled his aim at the elder Morino and pulled the trigger, hitting his target just under his collarbone. The old man lay back, bleeding. Soon, he would lose consciousness, and if unattended, would bleed out.

It all happened too quickly. Alec picked up the gun Max had kicked in his direction, clicked off the safety on Marco's gun, and held both pieces up at the brothers. At that moment, the leather satchel landed next to the bleeding Morino, between Alec and Reynaldo.

"We don't want to kill you!" called Edward.

"But we will, if we don't get our money," added Christopher, not backing down.

Alec stared at them, unmoving. He stood still as a statue, a very light snow beginning to drift down.

From behind the fixture, Max watched Alec and the Roses intently, trying to make sure Alec didn't get his ass shot up, again, by unforeseen threats. The two bodyguards on the helipad, the two brothers, and the two on-board bodyguards all had their weapons pointed at Alec. Surely, they assumed they outnumbered him.

But Max felt a shift at her side. Trip's eyes were fixed on the satchel of money.

"No," Max said. "Leave it." She didn't want to have to tell him they had more important things at stake, here. Like diverting the Roses' attention so Alec could get the hell out of there.

"I can get closer and grab it before they even notice," he said hopefully.

"No, Trip. Why? Money's not hard to come by. Let it go. You don't need it. And we need to focus on figuring out how we're all going to get out of here."

Trip tried to suppress his frown. Out here in the real world, he didn't have to take orders anymore. Besides, he could grab the money and then he and Scar could go anywhere. He could grab the money and everything would be fine. Then Alec would be able to get out of their grasp and the three of them could go have a burger somewhere and this would all be a memory they'd joke about in the future.

"No, it's too dangerous," Max pushed, watching his emotions play across his face. "Don't! You'll get shot! It's not worth it!"

Trip nodded, and Max could tell how upset he was, but that he agreed she was right. She couldn't fathom why Trip would be willing to risk his life for a hundred grand. But then it dawned on her. It was because someone else needed it more than him. Someone about which he deeply cared.

Trip returned his stare to Alec and the Roses, dejected.

But when Max also peered around the opposite corner of the fixture, she heard small footsteps blurring toward Reynaldo. She snapped her head toward the noise and saw Trip kneeling over him, reaching for the pack. He grabbed it successfully, and swung it over his shoulder.

Max jumped up from behind the fixture, her breath caught in her throat. Realizing the odds were not in her favor, she ducked and peeked around the other corner. "Alec!" she shouted.

Trip shot a quick glance to Alec, who by this point, had already watched the Roses and their bodyguards' gazes shift to his left. By the time he looked, it was too late. Gunfire rang out staccato as dozens of bullets riddled the young boy's small frame, staining his short sleeve shirt with O positive, universal donor blood.

"No!" Alec shouted in disbelief. He turned back to the Roses and bodyguards, and leveled the guns at them. He screamed out through gritted teeth and squeezed a shot out of both guns, but only one of them hit its target, sending Eddie down to the ground with a bleeding neck.

Christopher and the bodyguards knelt down to check the wound, inadvertently giving Alec a few seconds to dive and crouch behind the fixture. Eddie attempted to speak, but the gurgle noises which escaped him were torn between his ripped throat and blood-spattered mouth, and he bled out within the minute.

"You son of a bitch!" shouted Christopher, raising his weapon back in the direction of the transgenic twosome. "He's my brother!"

Max didn't dare lay a hand on Alec. His veins were protruding, his face was red with anger and pressure, and he kept swallowing and refusing to look at her. His whole body was flexed. All signs that she should back off. "He was just a kid!" Alec shouted back.

The Roses and their bodyguards walked toward Reynaldo, guns drawn in the direction of the roof fixture.

Unbelievable, Max thought. They're coming for the money.

"That's what you get when you play with Roses!" Christopher shouted back. "You get stuck by thorns."

Seriously? thought Max. But the idea was not lost on her that they might be completely, entirely, and unequivocally screwed. She waited for Alec to look at her. If they were going to die, she wanted his eyes on her.

Suddenly, the two soldiers both heard multiple sets of boot steps heading up the last flight of stairs. Alec snapped his head toward hers. "Company," he said. They cased the rooftop for the best place to jump ship. A few yards from the chopper wrapped the tell-tale bars which lead to the fire escape ladder. West side, like they needed.

Max looked back to Alec. He saw the urgency in her eyes, and looked over to Trip. Even though he knew they'd been soldiers and were designed to fight and die on the field, he just couldn't stomach the idea of it happening to Trip. It was unjust. The smaller body on the rooftop drew no breath. He just wanted Trip to breathe. He willed it to breathe. He willed it to breathe, but it was not enough.

"It's too late," Max said, remembering Tinga in the cage, blue as the water in which she was encased.

The door to the roof access burst open, revealing eight more men of varying ages, dressed in the same bluesy suits as the Morinos. They were reinforcements, sent up probably the moment Reynaldo was shot. Each of them was armed, and now it all seemed like a fairer fight.

Gunfire erupted between them, lighting up the rooftop in muzzle flashes. One of the suited Morinos stopped at his former boss and picked the satchel up by the shoulder strap. He tried to shake it from Trip's dead form.

Max shook her head. "We don't go now, we're gonna get shot."

Alec snapped out of his anger and pushed Max toward the exit. "Right behind you!" he shouted, which made the pain she felt from running in heels totally unimportant. She ran on her tip toes as fast as she could and all but hopped over the railing. Alec was not going to get shot because she was too slow.

And he was right behind her, sliding one gun into the back of his trousers and tossing the other to the rooftop. He nearly jumped onto the first rung of the ladder.

Neither knew if they were being followed or shot at, but both acted as though they were. With the recent snow, the bars were cold and slick with melting flakes, which made it both painful and easy to slide down them with greater speed. Their rings grinded against the metal ladder, vibrating the bones in their left hands.

Only two floors down from the roof and suddenly, the gunfire ceased and the helicopter started up. Alec looked down to Max. His lack of movement caused her to pause and look up to him.

She already knew what he was going to say. "Right behind you," she said, starting to climb back up.

As they cleared the eleventh floor, the helicopter lifted off, swaying to the west and shooting an icy breeze downward. Max tried to look up to see who was in it – the Roses or the Morinos – but all she could see was the metal bottom of the chopper.

Once he reached the roof and was confident all the bodies weren't moving, Alec turned to help Max up. He slid his jacket off and held it open for her.

"No, that's okay – "

"Take the damn jacket, Max, you're gonna get pneumonia."

Max let him pull the jacket over her shoulders and they turned to face the carnage. A dozen bodies lay strewn about in various positions, none of which seemed natural.

Alec immediately untied his bowtie and removed his cummerbund, tossing it aside. He hurried to Trip's side and knelt between the young redhead and Reynaldo.

He pulled at Trip's limbs to help lay him flat, bloodying his hands and once-pristine white dress shirt in the process. There was so much blood.

He'd seen blood before – even this much, but it had never been on someone he cared about. It had never been on anyone under his command. Alec folded his sleeves halfway up his forearms and pushed the kid's hair out of his eyes. He wiped his fingertips on his trousers and hesitated over Trip's bright green eyes, frozen in surprise.

Pushing his lids shut, Alec realized there were things those eyes would never see.

Alec shut his eyes and a low grumble started firmly in his stomach and made its way up. By the time it rumbled to his mouth, it was a guttural yell. He let it out – just the one – up into the snow.

Max stood behind him, paralyzed to move. This was one she felt deep in her core. She'd lost one of her own before. More than one. She shut her eyes against the forming tears and wished she could take it away for him.

Then they both heard it. The click of the safety. They looked for the source, and discovered the barrel of the one gun left behind, which was pointed at Alec, was held rather shakily by Marco.

He was disheveled. His right elbow was most likely broken from the impact of Alec's fist, and he seemed to be confined to the ground.

Alec regarded the man with uncertainty. He moved his hands into the air. "We were just saying goodbye," he said lowly. He turned to face the man, exposing his back to Max.

In her peripheral, she saw the gun resting at his waist, but kept her eyes on Marco and raised her hands into the air.

"You broke my nose," Marco said, as if his nose was the only thing he realized was broken. Or maybe the only thing that mattered. He floated the gun laterally and lined it up with Max. "And you – you bitch! You killed my uncle."

Max thought she might be able to dodge the bullet, especially since she was about ninety-percent certain it would be his first time possibly shooting at a living target and would have trouble both holding the gun steady and adjusting for the recoil.

But Alec stepped in front of her. "No, she didn't kill him. The Roses' bodyguard shot him." Alec's eyes sifted through the faces of the deceased scattered around them, and then used his head to nod to Marco's right. "That guy."

If Alec succeeded in getting Marco to look away, even for a second, Max knew that would be her opening to lift the piece and shoot the man.

And it had worked. The very moment he averted his eyes, Max grabbed the gun from Alec's slacks, squatted, and aimed for the younger Morino's thigh. She squeezed the trigger and the shot rang out. In a moment, a blood blossom seeped through the man's pant leg.

He screamed out in pain and dropped the gun to clutch his thigh with his one functional arm and hand. Alec turned to Max, took the gun from her, and leveled it back to Marco's head.

Max stood up. "Alec, don't."

His brows were turned down, and from the way his jaw flexed in the moonlight, Max could tell he was grinding his teeth. "It was Trip!" He seemed to be justifying.

Max tried again. "You can't do this, Alec," she pleaded, trying to look in his eyes.

"Bullshit I can't!" he said, unmoving.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? thought Max. She stepped in front of Alec, blocking the man. "Please don't," she started. "Please. The guy who killed Trip is already dead." She pointed. "He's right over there."

Alec didn't break his stare. Marco didn't seem to be picking up his gun, either. He was preoccupied with the pain in his leg and the fear for his life. He'd probably live if he called for help.

"If you don't want to see," Alec started, cold-blooded, "turn away."

Max felt a few tears creep up into her eyes.

"Turn away, Max," he said. "That's an order."

"No." Max cut him off when he tried to step around her. "You don't have to be the thing you were designed to be," she said, a tear slipping down her face.

She finally understood. He thought he had no choice. He thought he was in survival mode, that he wasn't worth the time and effort of the people around him, the people he loved. He thought he was a failure, and he thought he was alone. He thought he had no one.

Max stepped past the barrel of the gun and into his personal space. She reached her hands up to his face and motioned for him to look her in the eyes.

And when he finally broke his stare to peer into her coffee-colored eyes, she saw him. Saw beyond that disaffected exterior he always wore, that mask Manticore had trained them all to wear when times got too tough.

"You don't have to be what they designed you to be. You're not – you're better than that, Alec."

Alec searched her eyes for the truth behind her words. All of it seemed to hinge on the last word of her sentence – his name. He wasn't just a number, a killing machine. Not to her. He wasn't sure what he was to her, but he was sure those were real tears on her cheeks.

Alec lowered the gun and bit back those bitchy little tears that tried so desperately to form on the surface of his eyes.

Boots on the stairs interrupted them for the second time.

Alec dropped the gun and pulled her hands from his face a little faster than he liked, and held them still between his as he looked to his fallen comrade. He said a silent goodbye, and then he led Max back toward the west side of the rooftop. He led her to their escape.