Emily poured her third cup of hot beverage before moving on to the next seat. If they were that desperate for caffeine with any luck no one would even scuff and them falling asleep. And with this rate, they would all be sound asleep before they even got off the runway, which suited her very nicely. The wig itched like crazy, but she didn’t dare scratch it, afraid of doing anything that might make it move in a un-hair-like way. Obvious deficiencies aside, they were trained Centre employees and might notice things like their stewardess’ hair falling off.

But by the looks of it, they weren’t the only Centre employees in the room, she thought as the reflection of her uniform caught in one of the people’s sunglasses. Only idiots wore sunglasses inside. Idiots and sweepers. But as far as she was concerned, that was pretty much the same thing. She tugged once more in the corners of her mouth before saying in a falsely joyous tone, “Coffee or tea?"

Sam was deeply engrossed in the report he was preparing. It wasn’t until the voice repeated the question a second time that he even looked up from the laptop.

“Oh, coffee will be fine. Black, no sugar,” he specified.

“ Ok,” Emily said simply. As she started pouring, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Jarod. He was here, on the plane. At this very moment, she was in the same room as her brother, breathing the same air.

“Shit!” she hissed as the burning liquid overflowed the edges of the small cup, making its way onto the tray and her hand. She was pretty sure stewardesses weren’t supposed to swear but right now that was the least of her worries.

The swearing caught Sam’s attention in a way that the question hadn’t. In all his times on the Centre’s private jet, he had yet to hear a stewardess cuss. They were too well trained and too fearful of Raines to do something that would draw attention to themselves. He glanced up, saw the server’s eyes flickering between himself, and down at the sleeping pretender, even as she shook her hand dry.

“Hey,” he growled at her, “do your job and stop gawking at the projects.”

He glanced up and saw her shake her hand dry of the coffee she had poured on herself. But, even as he watched, he saw her eyes flash down the aisle at the sleeping pretender.

“S-sorry,” she stuttered. Great, she hadn’t been a ‘Centre employee’ for more than five minutes and she had already found the time to break one of their cardinal rules. Cover up time. “Been a long day, guess I’m a bit out of it.” She said, not even having to lie while plastering on another great big smile and continued to wipe coffee as best she could.

‘Great’, Sam thought to himself, ‘another Broots.’

“No problem,” he assured her, as he took in the youthfulness apparent in her. “Just remember, when the bigwigs are around, you only see and hear what you absolutely need to see and hear. And never remember anything for longer than five minutes.” He flashed his most charming smile at her, thinking maybe he might have some companionship when the flight landed and the labrat passed on to those that wanted him.

She gave him a quick nod followed by a fake smile that would knock the socks of her previous one as she caught him looking at her. She knew that look. The guy was trying to get in her pants, or pencil skirt as it may be. She handed him the accident-proned cup as carefully as she could, “One coffee, no sugar, no cream. And with a bit of extra coffee on the outside as well. No extra charge.” she said in her best charming voice. If chatting up a so called ‘sweeper’ was what she had to do to get a little information, it was what she would do.

A puzzled looked crossed Sam’s face. She was so familiar, but he couldn’t place her. “Do I know you?”

The question threw her a bit and before she could give it a second thought a “Probably” had slipped from her mouth. Instantly being met by a prodding glare she did her best to rectify her mistake without going into suspiciously-defensive-mode, “I’ve been working here for a few months now, might have run into you a couple of times. Plus I grew up in Blue Cove. Despite it’s size, it’s a pretty small town, you know?” Without waiting for a response she leaned over to the man next to the talkative sweeper, “Coffee or tea?”

Sam glared up at the infuriating figure standing next to him. There was something so familiar about her and the not-knowing was driving him nuts. And the hair, there was something wrong about her hair. He waited until she gave the sweeper next to him his coffee and then put his hand on her arm. “Wait. Did you dye your hair or cut it or something? I know I know you, but the hair is throwing me off.”

The moment she could lay her hands on him she was going to strangle Alex. No one would recognize her, he said. Don’t worry, he said. And then there was the small fact of him kidnapping and drugging herself and her brother.

“I think you’re confusing me for someone else,” she said while resisting the urge to adopt a southern drawl in attempt to throw him off, “I mean, I dye my hair, but I have been since I was a kid. Now would you please let go of my arm?” Doing her best to spit a more friendly tone into their conversation, “You’re not the only man in need of refreshments you know.” She handed the requested cup of coffee to the man in the adjacent window seat. “My best guess, you’re thinking of another stewardess. Never good to bring up women of your past you know,” she said and gave him a light wink.

Sam reluctantly took his hand off her arm, but flashed her his most charming grin instead. “My name is Sam. I am usually assigned to Miss Parker, I only get reassigned for special cases.” He held his hand out to shake hers.

“Hello Sam, I’m - ” she carefully placed the tray in a way that left one hand free to be shook, effectively buying herself the time needed to read her own nametag in the sunglasses of the man next to Sam, “I’m Sophie.” Oh Alex was gonna pay. Was she a Labrador retriever? “I’ll be your stewardess for the duration of the flight. Let me know if you need anything.” She said sugary sweet before moving on to the next row of seats.

--

Emily took a quick glance across the small area they were occupying inside the plane. Not including her brother there were six people sitting in the seats of the plane waiting for take off. Out of those two looked to have fallen asleep, and a couple of others would be following them shortly. And out of the people she had severed Sam was the only one still awake. Figures, she muttered.

The person she was about to serve now was definitively not a sweeper though, his suit alone told her that. No, this was, as Sam would say, ‘a big wig’. So getting him nice and drugged as soon as possible would be crucial for the success of the plan…whatever that might be. She plastered on another winning smile, unaware that she never really managed to pry the last one of before stepping up to him, “Coffee or tea.”

Cox looked up at her in annoyance, reading thru the preliminary reports. Now Jarod was finally quiet, he was going to be able to concentrate. "No thank you," he said with strained politeness.

Emily just stood there gaping for a while, coffee in one hand, tray in the other. She hadn’t really prepared for that. With the sweepers throwing themselves over the caffeine like jackals she just assumed everyone would want some. She cleared her throat to once again gain his interest, while doing her best not to sound too pushy as it would clearly rouse his suspicion, “I’ve got water to…if you want.”

He looked up at her and noticed the terrible hair colour and thought that perhaps there should be some guidelines about what was acceptable for employees. He smiled insincerely and then calmly said. "No thank you," again.

Ignoring his response she said simply, “Ok sir, I’ll go get you some juice then. Orange was it?” before heading towards the small storage room on the other side of the curtain before he had a chance to correct her. He had to eat or drink something, it was that simple. And if she had to ram it down his throat to make it happen than that was what she would do.

Cox shook his head and got back to his reports, wondering if they were going to ever take off. If the plane wasn’t moving within the next few minutes, he would have to have a little chat with the pilot. In fact, his restructuring might start with all the personnel here.

Emily quickly poured a glass of extra drugged orange juice before returning to the stubborn man, “Here you are.” She handed it to him with a smile, making sure he took it instead of letting him put it down on the table, and in a tone that let him know she meant it she said “Now drink up.”

Cox looked at the glass in his had and marveled at the impertinence of the girl. Clearly the training even here was sadly neglected. He put the cup to the side and turned his attention back to Miss Parker's report.

--

Emily readjusted her fake glasses before walking through the curtain once again. Not only did she have lover boy, or ‘Sam’ as he liked to call himself, watching her every move and refusing to fall asleep. Now, one of the passengers had to refuse to let her drug them as well. Great, just great. She walked rapidly between empty seats before finally reaching the cockpit where she knew Alex would be.

Cox frowned as she left, feeling a tingle of 'wrongness' about her that extended far beyond her choice of hair color. He pushed it aside though, casting a glance over at Jarod and wondered just why they weren't in the air yet. He was impatient to be underway and they should have been prepared.

She put the tray down on an empty passenger seat and opened the door to the cockpit, “We have a problem”

Alex looked up from his preflight chart and glanced back at Emily. “What now?” he asked, not even bothering to mask his irritation at being interrupted.

“Well lets see… There’s the sweeper who finds me ‘vaguely familiar’, the same sweeper who, regardless of how much drug-filled coffee I give him refuses to fall asleep. Oh and then there’s the guy who refuses to eat or drink anything I try to serve him. Take your pick Alex! Either way, we’re pretty much doomed.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Sweepers are idiots and we’ll have no problem handling them. Any other doomsday news or can I continue with my flight plan?”

Obviously there was no help in him so instead she huffed loudly and opened the door. As soon as she did that she closed it again, a look of dread evident on her features, “Yes actually… you know the guy I was telling you about? He’s coming…now.”

“You idiot,” Alex hissed as he pulled her past him into the co-pilot’s seat. “I asked you to do one simple task and you failed even in that.” He twisted her arm, watching with satisfaction as her eyes went wide and then filled with tears. Slightly satisfied, he pushed her back and stood as the door to the cockpit opened and Cox’s surprised glare met his.

He had had enough of waiting and decided to check on the fool flying this tin can. He opened the door and the response died on his lips as he saw the tableaux in front of him. He was so stunned that for a long moment he had forgotten why he had come to the cockpit in the first place.

Alex moved quickly and grabbed the stunned man before he had a chance to blink. Pulling him into the restricted space of the cockpit, he delivered a punishing right into the other man’s solar plexus.

The blow that nearly knocked him off his feet also snapped him back to reality as he struggled for breath. He didn’t understand how Alex could be here and that voice that warned him about the girl had been right. "Alex," he wheezed out as he reached for his gun. It was going to be a double catch today. Alex wasn’t as valuable to them ad Jarod was, but this could also be the last nail in Lyle's coffin too. There was no doubt Lyle was behind this in some way, although what he would gain from Jarod escaping was unknown.

Alex couldn’t help the grin. Here was one of the royal idiots that had thought him inferior to Jarod. And he could have so much fun. Easily preventing the other man from reaching for his gun, he moved his other hand to Cox’s neck and added pressure.
“I can kill you now,” he whispered, feeling Cox’s lifeblood pumping under his hand.

Cox winced under the pressure, but didn’t look away. "You won’t do it," he said confidently. Although that was undermined by the raspy quality of his voice as he struggled still to get air into his lungs.

“Want to try me?” Alex replied, giving the man a casual wink. “My parents thought the same.”

"You weren’t raised by your parents Alex," Cox said evenly. "This is a no win situation for you Alex. There are five sweepers out there and I am useless to you as a hostage."

“You sure about that? If you’re useless to me as a hostage, what prevents me from killing you now?”

She could barely believe her eyes. Would he really do it? Kill the man in cold blood? Frozen by her own fears all she could do was watch the scene unfold and hope that any bloodshed would not be hers or her brother’s.

"Because if you do that, Alex, what do you think those five men are going to do to you?" he asked him confidently. "Now, I am sure there is something you want, and we can all get what we want today. Everyone always had a price.”

“The five men is away in la-la land. I’m not too worried about them. But I am worried about you. You see, I’m sitting with a dilemma. I can either kill you now and know that I’m rid of your idiotic scheming or I can leave you for the Triumvirate and you can explain to them why you failed again in securing your so-called Pretender. What I want is Jarod and no-one is going to prevent me from collecting on him.” Alex stated smoothly. “So, Mr. Cox, you have a choice. Is it gonna be door number one or two? Cause I’m easy on doing either.”

"Can't say either of those are very appealing." Cox said calmly. Alex was a hothead and thus unpredictable. "You don't really think you can keep Jarod?" he asked conversationally. He knew what it would mean for him if he lost Jarod.

Emily almost let an “I hope not” slip, but managed to prevent it. This was just absurd. They were talking about her brother, a living human being, as if he was nothing more than a commodity.

“Well, Jarod’s quite valuable on the open market. Or I might just decide to keep him all to myself. But that’s beside the point. I’m getting tired of this conversation and I think it’s time that you were removed from it.” Alex stated calmly watching a brief flicker of fear flirt across Cox’s eyes as he tightened his grip on the man’s neck. A moment later Cox’s eyes closed as unconsciousness finally claimed the man. Letting the man slide down, he glanced at Emily, making sure that she had not moved from her seat.

“The plane will be in the air in 15 minutes. Make sure everything is in order. I’ve closed the door and locked it. Don’t try and save your brother or you will be left behind. Am I understood?”

She looked down at the man sprawled on the floor, bitterness evident in her voice as she answered diligently, “Perfectly.” What kind of mess had she gotten herself into?