(Chapter 1)

The microscope was not telling him what he wanted to know. The bearded man shook his head and left the instrument, heading for the chair across the lab that offered comfort when solutions were not forthcoming. He eased back in the seat and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. There was a smart rap on the doorjamb and he looked up to see a soldier in desert fatigues filling the framed space neatly.

He sighed as he put his glasses back on. "Tell me you have something."

"I have a present for you, sir. We picked them up last night: one dozen, all male." The military officer indicated the window on the far lab wall.

Stryker left the chair to have a look. Sure enough, twelve fairly young men of Asian and Arabic decent were in the holding room and he observed their movements through the one-way glass. They were nervous, as well they should be. Some were puffed with false bravado. He’d take that away from them soon enough. Stryker turned to the young sergeant.

"They’ll do, Miller. Prep them for study. I’ll take care of them today and tomorrow." He paused when he saw a slight smile on the sergeant’s face. "Yes?"

"I was just thinking that these OTM’s wouldn’t have been so eager to cross the border if they’d known you were on the other side."

The older man grunted. "OTM’s?"

"Arizona Border Patrol’s name for aliens ‘other than Mexican’ who cross the border."

"Hmm, ‘other than mutant,’ would be more appropriate in this case." Stryker sighed. "I need more mutants, Miller."

He went back and sank into the leather chair once again. His normally neat desk was a mess. Mail from the last few months lay unopened in great stacks and tabloids littered the remaining space, some torn to pieces. Miller pulled a couple more tabloids from his belt and offered them to his superior. Stryker greedily grabbed them and began to pour through the fodder they offered. After a while he stopped turning pages, the grim look on his face changing to curiosity. Carefully, he tore out one of the articles near the middle of the paper.

"This may be worth something. Indeed, the suggestions are very interesting. I wonder… We may have hit on something here, Miller. Look at this."

Miller glanced at the article. He knew his commander went through these types of stories looking for possible mutant reports, but this one dealt with a bear attack.

He looked up. "I don’t understand, sir. A killer bear attacks and eats a man. So?"

"Look more closely, Miller. The report says two hunters found a bear eating human remains. They assumed it had done the killing. I disagree. A bear does not ‘tear’ a person apart before feasting upon him. Like any other carnivore, it renders a killing blow, if needed, then goes for the soft flesh first. The corpse only gets torn apart as the rest of the meal is removed from the bones. It is more probable then that those two stumbled upon a bear devouring a man whose remains were already scattered. This suggests that the man was torn apart by something or someone first and the bear found him later."

"It seems a bit farfetched to me." Miller scratched his head.

"I want to know what could dismember a man like that in the middle of a wilderness area. I want to see that skeleton." Stryker looked at the piece of paper. "Canada, Miller. You’re going to Canada."

---

St. John entered through the back kitchen door, keying in the code. He was within curfew, but not by much. Ever since Mystique’s attack on the mansion, extra precautions had been set in place to make sure security was tighter and the safety of the children would not be threatened again. Although everyone understood the importance of the curfews, escape routes, and other measures taken, St. John had silently chafed under the restrictions these past two weeks, preferring the freedom he had before to come and go as long as someone knew where he was. Well, okay, maybe it had something to do with his new girlfriend, Raven. Pyro smiled to himself at the thoughts of love her name invoked.

He turned around and was greeted by a dark figure looming in front of him. St. John stepped back in a panic and hit the light switch. Logan stood before him, arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow cocked.

"That was close. Was she worth it?"

The teenager blushed and grinned. "Yeah."

Logan backhanded him lightly on the shoulder. "Go on. You have a computer lab tutorial in the morning. I hope you’re prepared."

"You bet. ‘Night, Logan."

He left the kitchen and did not see the scowl appear on Logan’s face. The older man looked at the hand he had slapped against St. John’s jacket. The faint odor of mint with a hint of Mystique still lingered in the air. Logan flipped off the light and padded away in the darkness on silent feet.

Jean met him in the hall outside the lab.

"Logan? Could you come in here for a second?"

He paused momentarily. Marie was waiting for him but he could tell from her tense body language and rapid heartbeat that something was bothering Jean. Shrugging, he followed her into his least favorite spot in the mansion and sat on the stool she indicated.

"I need to know if you’ve been suffering any ill effects from that grenade."

Stone cold eyes looked at her and, for a moment, she almost backed out on her plan.

She swallowed. "Logan, I only want to know…"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No ill effects, Jean."

"Look, you’ve been losing weight and I hear you’re not sleeping. It’s my job to make sure everyone here is in the best of health. Now I…"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, that’s not your job." A growl began to tinge his voice.

Jean looked him over with a critical gaze. He was not healing emotionally and it was hitting him hard physically. She desperately wanted concrete proof, though, and gave the ‘signal’ to Scott.

"If I asked nicely for a blood sample to confirm my suspicions that you’re becoming anemic, would you give me one?"

"I’m not anemic."

"Then prove it. Let me have a vial of blood. I haven’t been able to get a sample from you since this whole incident took place. There may have been some residual effects to your system and…"

"No."

She clenched her fists. "No, what? Damn it, Logan, I want to know if you’re okay!"

"No residual effects, Jean." His voice was controlled but not by much. "All you have to do is ask and I’ve already answered. I’m fine. Now drop it." He stood up and moved toward the door, only to find it blocked by Scott.

Cyclops was not wearing his glasses, he was wearing the weapon visor and his hand was on the trigger. Logan looked from one to the other. He knew they were only doing this because they cared about him, but it still stuck in his craw. A low rumble came from his chest and his forearms tensed.

"Please? Rogue came to me saying she was worried about you." Scott paused. "The least you could do is fork over a little blood to prove there’s nothing wrong."

"She would have talked to me first." Nostrils flared, Logan was calling Scott’s bluff even as the truth of the words stabbed at his heart.

"Am I lying?" Rogue had approached him and expressed concern about Logan. What Logan didn’t need to know was that Rogue only asked Scott to talk to him.

The older man stood still and let Jean get a needle in him. He kept Scott in his sights the entire time, never taking his eyes off the visor. When she was done, he left the room as silently as he had entered it.

"Thanks sweetheart." Jean kissed Scott lightly. "You were right about catching him at night when no one else would see it. I think he would have balked more if the others had been around."

Scott grunted. "I’m going to have to watch my back for a couple of days until he cools off. He’s been really distant lately and, you’re right, he’s losing weight. Something’s wrong. I just hope it’s nothing we can’t fix."

"Well, I wanted to rule out a few of the obvious things first and I needed this blood to do it." She shook her head as she prepared her first slide. "I’ll just take a peek, run a few tests, compare it to his previous blood samples, and then we’ll know for sure.

"Wait a minute. We’ve been up long enough. I have a quiz to give tomorrow and need some sleep."

"I’ll be there in a second. I just want to look at this blood while it’s fresh."

"You’re worse than a vampire sometimes, you know that?" He kissed her and nibbled on her ear before he left, knowing it would be hours before she came to bed.
------

(Chapter 2)

"Sarge, we’ve got another one."

The woman behind the desk looked up. "Oh, Joe, not again? Same story?"

"Same story. He says it happened night before last."

"Bring him in."

Joe seated the small and obviously very scared older man in the chair across from her desk. Considering how tiny her office was, he was less than five feet from her and she could smell the stench of urine and sweat quite easily.

Sergeant Fuerte met his eyes with a commanding look. "Dígame, la verdad, nada mas*."

He hesitated, chewing at his bottom lip. A nervous glance at the man who brought him in clued her in to the fact that he was not expecting a woman to be in charge. She did not soften her gaze. To do so now would promote the idea that she was sympathetic. She was anything but. Laws were laws and he had broken them when he tried to enter this country illegally.

Her face grew hard. "¡Ahora!**"

He started off slowly, hesitantly, as if the story were being twisted out of him in a painful, torturous way. The more he continued, the wilder the tale became and the more he started to shake with fear at the memories he had of it. Her Spanish was not as great as it should be, but she knew enough to grasp what he was saying, even if she had a hard time believing it.

"¡Diablos!***" he finished. "¡Hijos del Diablo!****"

She looked at him and shook her head in disbelief even as she registered the terror on his face. Something had happened that night. Something had literally scared the shit out of this poor wetback.

Fuerte looked up at Joe. "Process him and send him back. It looks like he won’t be trying to cross again anytime soon. If these rumors of camouflaged devil men who swoop down on aliens, suck the life out of them, and make them disappear get spread around on the other side of the border, our job will be made a lot easier." He shrugged and led the poor Mexican away.

She sat back and threw her pen on the desk. Damn. She ran her fingers through her long black hair. Was he yet another loco? Or was this poor soul an actual witness to a military crime? She sighed. There were no military ops around here that she knew of and she knew this part of Arizona very well. Fuerte pulled her hair up in a ponytail and opened a drawer. Out came her trusty binoculars and she stood and grabbed her cap. Time to do a little reconnaissance.

*Talk to me, the truth, nothing else.

**Now!

***Devils!

****Sons of the Devil!

---

"The results are in. You’re borderline anemic."

There was no answer from under the hood of the jeep.

Scott frowned. "Logan? Are you going to hear me out or what?"

"Can I stop you?"

"No."

"Then fire away. Nothing says I have to listen."

"Fine, hardhead. Jean says you need rest and food."

A snort was the reply.

Scott shook a small plastic container in his hand, allowing the contents to rattle freely. "She’s prescribed some sleeping pills for you."

There was stunned silence for a moment. "No."

"Don’t you want a good night’s sleep?"

"No." The growl was getting deeper.

"Hey, if I could take something that would help me sleep, I would."

"Don’t push it, one-eye." It was barely civil.

Ever the optimist, Scott continued. "One pill should let you rest for about thirty minutes. Just break open a capsule and let it dissolve in a liquid. It should…"

Logan whirled around and brandished a ratchet. "What part of ‘no’ do you not fucking get?" he snarled.

Scott calmly cocked his head. "Chill, will you? Jean’s only trying to help. Care to clue me in on why you don’t want to get better?"

Logan’s temper had been on edge for almost two weeks and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Scott was one of the few who could take the brunt of it and keep on going, being all too familiar with self-recrimination and its aftereffects.

Logan clamped down hard on his emotions, knowing he owed Scott a decent answer on this battle. "If you could take something that’d keep you asleep, knowing you’d have nightmares and wouldn’t be able to wake up, would you?"

Scott looked down at the small bottle for a moment, seeing it in a whole new light. "Maybe not." He shrugged. "You might not have any dreams, though. Ever think of that? I’m sure Jean would never offer something she thought would hurt you."

Logan went back to the timing belt on the jeep. Scott, realizing that was the only answer he was going to get, put the bottle in his jacket pocket. Logan was probably going to tear the jeep apart and fix every problem it had ever had, just as he had torn the mansion apart in order to find new and better ways to safeguard the kids. He was doing everything he could for something or someone other than himself. Further communication wouldn’t happen for a while, unless it came from a different source.

Ever the strategist, Scott had assigned the next phase of ‘operation redemption’ to the only person who was capable of pulling it off. The pills and doctor’s orders would now be left in Rogue’s competent hands. He started to leave but thought it best to try one more time, just in case Logan became suspicious of such an easy victory.

"If you need to talk or change your mind about the pills…"

"I know how to find you," came the answering mutter.

Marie walked into the garage less than a half-hour later and made her way to the boots that protruded from under the jeep. She pulled up a stool and sat, balancing the tray on her lap. Food was often the best lure for a dangerous animal.

"Need some lunch, sugar?"

There was a grunt and she interpreted it as a yes. It wasn’t long before Logan found a stopping point and rolled out from under the vehicle.

"Thanks, darlin’."

"That’s the fourth time this week you’ve skipped a meal or two. Ah think you’re getting forgetful in your old age."

A low growl answered her remark as Logan sat up and reached for the sandwich.

"Hey! Wash those hands! You don’t want to get that stuff in your stomach, do you?"

He looked down at the grease and oil. "It never hurt me before."

"Will you please learn how to take care of yourself?"

"I survived fifteen years on my own, Marie." Nevertheless, he got up, went over, and washed the offensive matter off his hands, knowing she would worry if he didn’t.

She held out the sandwich and he quickly wolfed it down as she studied him.

"Have you lost more weight since yesterday?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "Don’t know. Maybe." He downed the glass of milk she offered.

"You’re working too hard. When was the last time you laughed?"

He looked at her with a poker face. She realized why and immediately felt terrible. The last time he had laughed was when they had made love for the first time. It had been the night before Mystique had launched a personal attack against Logan and everyone else in the mansion. He put the tray on a nearby table and pulled her up from the stool, enveloping her in a hug even as her tears began to fall.

"We can’t move on if you can’t forgive yourself. It’s like you can’t put this behind you. You keep pushing yourself harder and harder and it’s making me afraid. The Logan Ah know is slowly disappearing. Ah can’t let that happen. Ah don’t want to lose you."

"I don’t want to lose you either. That’s why I can’t stop." He held her out at arm’s length so they could look at each other. "I’ve never had so much at stake before. It’s killing me that I almost lost…everything because I wasn’t focused enough. I let Mystique get past me and she damn near killed someone… and it could have been you. Don’t you see? I don’t know if I can take being without you," he gestured around them, "or even being without this. I don’t remember what it was like to have a mate or a family. Now I have both and I’ve never been so happy and so scared in all my life."

Her eyes grew round with surprise. "Is that what Ah am to you? Your ‘mate’?"

Frustration burned in his cheeks and he averted his eyes, expecting a feminist tirade. A wonderful glow began to emanate from her and he glanced back sharply, noting the changes in her scent and heartbeat. Sheepishly, Logan let a smile ghost across his features.

"You are, just as I’m yours." Her bright eyes shone with happiness and he continued. "I should have told you before, but…"

She sobered a little. "Things got complicated, didn’t they."

"Something like that."

"Oh, sugar. Ah wish…"

"Shh. It’s all right." He tapped his finger lightly on her full bottom lip. "Remember, you didn’t want perfect."

"No, Ah didn’t. It’s real and that’s what counts. If we can survive what happened with Mystique, we can survive anything." She paused. "There’s something we have to get straight, though, my ‘mate’. We need a ground rule." She put her gloved hands on either side of his face. "Promise me that you won’t let anyone spoil what we have. No one stands between us, got it?"

"Got it." He noticed her raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Let me and the others take some of the blame for what happened with Mystique, okay? It takes a group effort to protect this place and these children and you’re not the only one on the team. Please don’t let this change you. When Ah say don’t let anyone stand between us, Ah’m talking about you, too. Promise me?"

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Opening them, he saw clearly just how much he’d been distancing himself from her in his attempts to protect her. In fact he had pushed all of them away. His anger at himself had come out against them and he had thrown himself into better security devices and techniques, longer watches at night, and harder training to make sure he would be in top form for any attack, further reinforcing the growing emotional rift between him and anyone else.

She loved him, he was sure of it. His soul belonged to her, whether she knew it or not. Don’t carry all the blame? He used to not carry any at all. That was when it was just him against the world. How his life had changed. Could he really forgive himself and understand it wasn’t all his fault? It would be hard to say and even harder to try to believe. Big brown eyes full of care and concern gazed up at him and he realized he could not refuse her on this, not if he wanted to keep her in his life. Logan gently pried Rogue’s hands off his face and tenderly kissed the silk-encased palms before placing them over his heart.

"I promise," he whispered.
------

(Chapter 3)

The Mounties were still studying the corpse, trying to figure out what had happened and when, and were attempting identify the victim. It had been hard to get in to see the body, harder still to take pictures. Luckily for Miller, the Canadian authorities had determined it was an American and possibly someone in the military. He had bluffed and said he was on the trail of a missing GI.

Saying he was checking in with Headquarters, Miller grabbed the first chance he could to get away. He went to the scene of the crime and hiked around. It had taken almost three hours and sheer luck to find the remains of the jeep. Someone had stripped it. Miller scraped through layers of snow and ice and found a VIN on the remnants of the engine block. He ran it through some back channels and discovered the owner’s name and occupation.

Miller logged into the laptop and attached his digital camera. He never would have believed it: a simple bear story turning into a real mystery. He sent a short message and attached the pictures he had taken of the human remains. His boss had stumbled onto something all right. This man had been a Pentagon employee and had been hacked apart with something that carved through bone like it was butter. He included the victim’s name, hoping this would lead Stryker to what he wanted most: mutants.

---

"How do you expect to learn English reading that trash?"

Piotr sheepishly peeked over the top of the tabloid. Scott stood there with his arms folded.

"I, uh, found it in the library."

"Try again."

"Kitty gave it to me?"

"She didn’t!"

"Get off my back, one-eye," Piotr grumbled.

One of Scott’s eyebrows shot up.

A charming grin answered it. "The imitation did not work for you?"

"You’re no Logan. Why are you reading that, anyway?"

"It is funny. Look at this. A woman gave birth to a thirty pound baby. By the way, how much is that in kilograms?"

"No idea. Let me see that." Scott snagged the paper from the seated giant. "This stuff is ridiculous."

Piotr stood up, rounded the table, and started reading over the team leader’s shoulder, an easy feat since he towered over him by more than a foot.

"That one could be real. I have heard that bears sometimes eat people." He pointed to an article and Scott’s attention was drawn to it.

"Teaching him to read, Pete?" Logan entered the break room and sat down at the table where Piotr had been.

"Logan! We were…Wait! Was that…a joke? He told a joke!" Piotr slapped Scott on the back but the other didn’t notice.

"Can it, tinman," Logan growled.

"Scott, Logan told a joke! Scott?"

Scott looked up from the paper. "That’s nice, Piotr. Could you do me a favor and see if Beast is around anywhere?"

"Um, sure. You want him to come in here?"

"Please."

Piotr shrugged and left the room.

Scott spread the paper out in front of Logan and tapped the article. "We need to talk."

---

Graves? William Graves? The name was familiar. He leaned back in his chair as he re-read Miller’s email. Carl had a son named something like that, didn’t he? Of course, that’s right. He and the boy had the same first name. He always joked that Carl had named the child after him even though the boy was born before Carl came to work on the project. Poor Carl. Let’s see he died close to seventeen or eighteen years ago when the Alkali Lake facility went offline. Stryker looked over the pictures. The body had been dismembered most ruthlessly. In fact, that kind of carnage looked familiar.

Suddenly, the sheared off bones and Carl’s memory merged in his thoughts. No, it couldn’t be, could it? He died in the aftermath at Alkali, right? Or did he? No one really knew what happened since there had been no survivors. Most of the fragmented remains had never even been identified and a chemical fire had gutted the lab areas, reducing everything in them to a fine ash. He and his team had cleaned up the mess and left it as an abandoned building. Stryker felt a touch of vertigo as his head began to spin with the possibilities. The Wolverine was alive? An insane gleam began to burn in Stryker’s eyes.

His attention fell on his stack of unopened mail. There was always the possibility that the Wolverine and Carl’s son had met by accident. Then again… Twenty minutes later he held an envelope in his hand sporting Graves’ name and a return address in Washington D.C. He shivered and let the ecstasy wash over him.

"Beautiful."

---

Logan sat on the other side of Xavier’s desk. The Wolverine’s thoughts were sometimes a mystery to Charles. Occasionally he could get a clear signal but other times it was like swimming through mud. Today was muddy. Feral energy from the man washed across the room in waves and Xavier knew that whatever Logan had on his mind was not going to be pleasant.

"Tell me what happened to your friend, the one Graves killed."

Charles had not expected this question but recovered from the shock nicely. "Green? He lived alone and had no family, so I made the arrangements and had him buried."

"Did he leave you anything? Were you named in a will?"

"No. A lawyer was the executor. I simply buried him, Logan. There shouldn’t be a problem with performing such a simple act of decency for a friend."

"There’s a trail now, Chuck. If somebody starts looking, can they tie you to him?"

"I don’t see how."

"You didn’t sign anything at the funeral home?"

"No, I…" Charles’ face grew thoughtful. "Wait. Yes…I did."

---

"Sir, there’s a ‘William Stryker’ on line two."

"And?"

"Says it has something to do with mutants, sir. He’s a consultant for the military and says he has information the President needs to know."

"The President is busy with foreign affairs at the moment and doesn’t have time to listen to fairy tales, Jones. Take a message. We’ll call back."

---

Jean was so intent on the microscope in front of her that she failed to ‘hear’ Scott approach. When he lovingly ran his hands around her waist, she jerked up, startled.

"Easy there, lady. It’s me." Scott pulled her to him, hugging her from behind and blowing softly in her ear.

"Scott, I’m really trying to figure something out here."

"So am I." He ran his skillful hands down and around her firm little ass. "Are you wearing underwear?"

She started to get exasperated and ended up laughing softly. "You are something else. Don’t you have to worry about saving the world? Solving the puzzles of the ages? Blowing the bad guys out of the water?"

His hands came back to her waist and he held her tightly for a moment. "Hmm. I haven’t been doing a lot of that lately. In fact, I found out I screwed up. We didn’t cover our tracks as well as we could have a few months ago."

He loosened his hold on her and she turned in his arms so they were face to face. His brow furrowed and she felt his tension through their mental ‘link’. For all his training and preparation in leading and making tough decisions, there were times when Scott needed a loving reassurance to keep himself grounded in reality. Jean reached up and caressed his cheek, feeling, rather than seeing, him close his eyes in response.

"You know what they say about hindsight, lover."

He sighed and opened his eyes again. "I know. It might be nothing or it might be a danger. I only hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the butt."

"Just what kind of threat are we talking about?" She tried never to read his mind unless it was necessary, preferring to channel his emotions to give her clues.

"Graves’ body has been found."

Jean couldn’t help her shiver of revulsion. She still remembered the mental image Scott had of the destruction Logan wreaked that day with his claws.

He held her tighter to him. "Don’t worry. It’s probably nothing. And if it does turn out to be a threat, most of the stuff we’ve done in the last two weeks will make a big difference. Logan’s been quite creative with the defenses of this mansion."

"Speaking of Logan," she turned her head toward the microscope. "I’m having a problem with some of his blood work."

"In what way?" He let her go and she turned and looked through the microscope again.

She focused on the slide. "Ready?"

"Ready." An image floated in his mind. "Just my luck, something red. What exactly am I looking at?"

"Samples of his blood from last night. These," she switched the slide, "are samples of his blood from two years ago."

"There’s barely any cell structure left."

"Exactly. For comparison, here’s blood from Beast a couple of years ago…and from a few weeks ago."

"They look about the same."

Jean glared over her shoulder. "They look extremely similar because I take great pride in keeping my genetic material intact no matter how old it is." Scott grinned and she realized she had let him ruffle her feathers. She resumed a more scientific attitude. "Why would Logan’s blood deteriorate even in cryogenic storage?"

Cyclops frowned. "If it isn’t the method, it must be the material."

Jean nodded. "That’s my conclusion as well. I don’t know what to make of it. For someone who heals at a phenomenal rate, his body tissues are breaking down much more rapidly than a normal person’s would. I wish I knew whether this was something to be concerned about. Could this be a sign of him reaching the end of his unnatural life span?"

"Ask him." Scott could tell from her blank stare that this idea had not occurred to his fiancée.

"Ask Logan? How would he know?"

"We’re talking about a man who can smell the difference between fear and a lie and has eyesight like a hawk. He can pick up the scent of blood faster than a bloodhound and tell you what ingredient you’re missing from a recipe just by tasting it. He would have noticed if something were changing, especially if it was causing any type of decay. Logan knows his limitations or lack of them better than anyone else does."

She leaned back against the table and folded her arms across her chest. "Lover, what if he already knows? What if he slipped with Mystique because he’s losing his edge? What if he doesn’t want our help for a reason? Everything I’m seeing tells me that this genetic material is deteriorating. What if he is, too?"

The words hit hard. His friend and teammate dying? No, Scott shook his head. He was sure, for once, that Jean was on the wrong track.

"Ask him those questions, sweetheart. There has to be another explanation. Trust me on this one."
------

(Chapter 4)

The brunette entered the plastic cell expecting to receive a routine list of items to take care of. When Magneto turned around, however, Mystique lost her cool reserve rather quickly. His face and neck were mottled with bruises.

"Erik!"

Surprised by her outburst, he considered that he must present quite an appearance and was pleased with the young woman’s concern. It meant she was still emotionally attached to him and he needed that right now.

"I had a visitor," he stated. "One who is used to dealing out methods of abuse in order to get information."

"Are you all right?" She reached out to touch his cheek but he dodged her outstretched fingertips.

"They received the information they wanted, information that I was willing to tell them."

"But your face..."

"Xavier’s group has now been exposed to the human who modified the Wolverine." A shiver went down her spine for Magneto’s voice had become almost giddy with excitement. "I’m sure he is now making his plans to capture the X-Men, along with the children."

She stared for a moment. "So it’s started."

"My dear, we are now at a point where we can defeat one enemy and absorb the other." He grinned despite the pain. "All we have to do is let it happen."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I believe it is time for Senator Kelly to make a strategic appearance in Washington. We need to keep an eye on our little human pawn and make sure he lives up to his potential. Don’t report here anymore. I will contact you when the time is right."

---

She couldn’t believe her luck. If she hadn’t seen that faint tire track on a deserted road, she never would have come across this God forsaken place. It was guarded along the order of Fort Knox but Fuerte managed to worm her way in, literally, on her belly. Two hours of hard work and painstaking patience now afforded her a front row view of the complex. Her squad had always said with pride that she was part Apache. That really wasn’t true. She had simply read up on all the tactics pioneered by the Native Americans and used them to her advantage. Binoculars out, Fuerte surveyed the scene in front of her.

No one could have seen this from the air. Low concrete bunkers sunk deeply in the hot desert sands and covered by netting were not easy to spot. She lay on the crest of an outcropping of rock and sand and considered her options. The government did not own this place, at least to her knowledge. In fact, the paper trail on it had fallen through the cracks long ago and it was anyone’s guess as to who the owner was.

A military helicopter came in low and fast and she figured she was done for but it passed her by. When it landed and only one man exited the craft, she focused the binoculars on him. He was fairly robust, bordering on portly, had salt and pepper hair, glasses, and sported a beard.

A soft rustling disturbed her concentration and she looked back to discover a diamond-back had chosen this spot as a refuge, too. She watched as the large serpent coiled up under a rock not five feet from her ankle and made a mental note not to disturb it. Snakes did not scare her. She knew how to deal with them; she didn’t invade their territory and they didn’t bother her.

The man had disappeared. Fuerte waited, absorbing the layout and details of the place. It wasn’t long before there was movement. The bearded man came out of one of the buildings and walked across the compound followed by four more men with one in the middle whose head was covered with some sort of sack. She watched as the bearded man stopped at a specific place near the center of the complex and turned to face the escort. As the four men moved away from the man in the middle one of them removed the bag and her breath caught in her throat. The man was blue.

The bearded man was pointing something in his hand at the blue man who swayed slightly. One of the escort put items in the blue man’s hands, one of which appeared to be a gun. The blue man simply stared at the man with the beard as if not seeing anything else in the world around him. The bearded man again pointed something at the blue man and began to laugh. The blue man stood and swayed as if waiting for something. Finally the bearded man shouted and motioned one more time with the object in his hand and the blue man crouched as if ready to spring. There was a puff of thick blue smoke and the blue man disappeared. Faintly, she heard the words the bearded man had yelled to the blue man.

"Do your duty to God!"

The bearded man turned to one of the men and stood close to him for a moment, then turned and boarded the helicopter. Fuerte watched it take off and said a prayer of thanks when it veered around and away from her position. The men left in the compound began to assemble and receive instructions from the man the bearded man had talked with. There was a rustle behind her but she was intent on seeing more and ignored it.

"Don’t move," said a decidedly male voice. She heard the click of a safety being turned off.

Sweat began to trickle down Fuerte’s temple and not because of the oppressive heat of the sands beneath her. He had her dead to rights. Footsteps crunched closer and stopped near her feet, right next to the rock. She remembered what was under the rock and began offering up a mental plea to the diamond-back. Come on, she thought desperately. Wake up! You can get him. He’s in your territory. Do it. Do it! Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited for the shot.

"I don’t know who you were, lady, but you’re as good as dead now."

There was no warning. That’s a mistake most people make, she thought. Rattlesnakes don’t always give you a warning, especially when you catch them off-guard. The soldier was so intent on his prey that he didn’t feel the first strike. He blindly batted a hand irritatingly at the second, assuming the pain was from a sting. By the time he had figured out what was happening and made an exclamation, Fuerte had rolled and booted him over. The soldier’s head hit the rock and the snake struck one last time, right in his neck. He never had a chance.

She listened to the man’s breath rattle and fade away as she waited for the snake to calm down and make its escape. Patience was a virtue and she had it in spades. As she lay there, forcing herself to breathe normally, the radio on his belt crackled to life.

"Baker, come in. The OTMs’ need loading. We’ve got new orders. Get your section packed and ready for Alkali. We leave in twenty."

Fuerte scooted across the sand as fast as she dared, taking care not to damage her binoculars.

---

"Have I done something wrong?"

Logan jerked his head up and looked sharply at Megan. "No. Why?"

The eleven-year-old was helping him carry equipment out to the lawn where her survival class was to be held a little later.

"You don’t tease me like you used to."

"I know." His brow furrowed. "Give me some time, squirt. I’ll get better again."

"You’re frowning. That means you’re worrying about something aren’t you?" She sniffed tentatively. "Are you…sad?"

A rueful grin twisted his face. "I see you’re honing your skills. Does anyone else know you can smell scents that tell about emotions?"

"No. Should I tell them?"

He shook his head. "No, Megan. No one knows I can either. It’s kind of like when the Professor doesn’t mention what he sees in other people’s minds. He doesn’t want them to feel bad or upset that he knows more about them than they want him to."

She nodded. "I have happiness and sadness down. The others are kind of confusing. What does fear smell like?"

"Put a snake in Doctor Grey’s lab sometime."

She stared. "Can I really do that?"

"No." He sighed. "That wouldn’t be a nice thing to do." Logan paused. "But, if you do decide to find out what fear smells like, make sure Mr. Summers is around, too."

"Why?"

"He likes to protect her."

"Will she jump in his arms?"

"Probably."

"Would Rogue jump in your arms?"

"Let’s not try anything with Rogue, got it?"

She giggled. "Got it."

"Good."

---

Miller drove the nondescript black car to the departure door of the small military airport and picked up three passengers.

"Afternoon, sir."

"Why are you here? You’re supposed to be watching that school in New York. Where’s Deitrich?" asked Stryker as he struggled to get comfortable in the back seat.

"I sent Deitrich there to keep an eye on the target. I kept his men here in case you needed them."

Stryker pulled off his glasses for a moment to rub the bridge of his nose. Miller knew Stryker did this when facing a problem that robbed him of what he wanted and he braced himself for the next words out of his boss’ mouth.

Stryker’s voice was harsh. "Don’t overstep yourself, Miller. I need Deitrich here in Washington for a reason. He’s extremely talented at digging up dirt on these congressional yahoos. Did he give you anything before he left? Will I have a private audience with the President?"

"Yes and no, sir. He gave me information that the President had asked for Senator Kelly to be at the White House at the same time you are." He watched the rear-view mirror and saw Stryker’s eyes narrow sharply. "I took the liberty of staying here in case you needed to prepare a second file, sir. Deitrich wouldn’t know how to help you with that."

Miller reached down and picked up a folder, passing it back to his boss. "Here’s the rest of the information on that school. I was unable to get photos of any of the students or staff. Also, Deitrich managed to get a photo of the President’s assailant. He said the attack was spectacular, just as you predicted. Good likeness, don’t you think?" He started the car and pulled out of the loading area of the airport.

Stryker took the folder and started flipping through the pages although he wasn’t reading the material. Kelly was not going to be easily dismissed. The whole reason for the attack on the White House was to instruct the President on the dangers of mutants. The file he was going to give the President had dossiers of mutants the military had hunted down, dangerous mutants they had used the Wolverine to kill, although that little detail had been omitted. He was going to argue a case about the damage these mutants had inflicted on others and lobby for permission to hunt them down wherever they may be. This way he could attack the school and snatch the Wolverine back before anyone was the wiser. Kelly would pick that argument apart and influence the President in a negative way.

He picked up the photo of the Nightcrawler tumbling in the air above the heads of shocked onlookers. It was a good likeness. He wondered just what the President had thought about the blue devil.

Stryker looked out the window and pulled at his beard. Then an idea hit him. Nightcrawler was too distinctive to forget. If he doctored the information on the school and added Nightcrawler’s photo, identifying him as one of the teachers, the President might let him detain the entire school population if he thought they were a group of terrorists. This argument would sway the President, he was sure, and would let him get away with anything he wanted, with no one to oppose him.

"Deitrich’s men are now your men. Put them on Kelly’s tail. Such a goody-two-shoes senator with only the mutants’ best interests at heart deserves watching, don’t you think? In my opinion, politicians are only good for one thing: manipulation. Never turn your back on them." He smiled. "Miller, we’re going to have some fun with your laptop tonight. You’re right, we will need a second file. How do you feel about falsifying information?"

"That’s why I’m here, sir."
------

(Chapter 5)

"Logan!"

It was almost a scream. He raced across the lawn from where he had been setting up for his class, his adrenaline lending wings to his feet. His forearms tensed as he reached the door, ready to slice up whatever it was that caused Marie to yell like that.

"Come on!" She grabbed his hand and frantically pulled him to the media room.

They were just in time to see the rest of the CNN Headline News broadcast touting an attack on the White House by a person as yet unknown, possibly a mutant.

Scott looked up from the TV. "This could be trouble."

"That’s an understatement," agreed Logan.

Thirty minutes later there was a meeting in the Ready Room.

"I did a search with Cerebro and found something. It’s not much, but it may be what we need. There is a mutant in Boston who is suffering from tremendous fear, confusion, and a memory loss. I believe he was the one who was used in the attack on the White House. It seems he ‘woke up’ with a severe pain in his arm and found himself in a strange place resembling the Oval Office. He panicked and fled to a church he was familiar with in Boston. Interestingly enough, it seems he was going to join the priesthood there before his amnesia set in. I would prefer we get a verbal account of what happened directly from him as his thoughts are too jumbled to trust my interpretations beyond what I have told you."

"If it is the same person, how did he manage to get into and out of the White House without anything more than a scratch? Or, for that matter, go from Washington D.C. to Boston so fast?" wondered Scott.

"I received the vague impression of a small movement over a great distance. Although it is an excellent augmentation of my mental range, Cerebro only offers me a limited view, for if I focus too hard on someone while using it, I could damage him or her. Unless I am connected to a mutant when they actually use their abilities, I do not truly know what they can do until they are within the distance for me to use my powers naturally. Considering his appearance, it would be handy if his mutation did involve fast getaways."

"What’s he look like?" asked Logan.

"The devil himself," was the reply, "complete with a pointed tail. Only his skin is blue and his eyes are yellow, as opposed to the traditional red skin and eyes of the depicted Satan."

"Bummer," murmured Jubilee.

Charles eyed her sternly. "This meeting is open to all X-Men, including trainees, due to the seriousness of the situation." Jubilee blushed. "I expect this information to be treated with the consideration it deserves. Someone deliberately set a mutant against the President of the United States. Now we are in dire peril of seeing a ‘knee-jerk’ reaction, as it were. Mutant registration and persecution might be only days away."

"I recommend the children be sent to one of the safe havens as soon as possible," Scott said. "This coupled with Graves’ body being found makes me leery of leaving them exposed in the mansion. If there is even a remote chance that the agency that took Logan is still using mutants and they are looking up Graves’ back trail, they could be here soon, if not watching us already. I’m just wondering if the attack on the White House is connected in some way."

"I’m wondering the same thing myself and I agree with your suggestion on the children. Their safety is paramount." Xavier focused on Beast. "Henry, I would like for you to supervise moving them. I know we had arranged for Jean to take that responsibility when the time came, but I believe she should go to Boston and get in touch with this new mutant."

"How come he’s new to you?" They all looked at Logan. "Why couldn’t you spot him before?"

Xavier sighed. "I wish I knew. Whatever control they had him under must have disturbed his mental signature enough so that I did not pick him up as a mutant. We need to know what they did to him in order to determine how to alter my searches so any other mutant facing this type of…" He looked Logan square in the eye for this, "cruel and depraved abuse will not be overlooked again."

Logan nodded, satisfied with the answer.

Charles looked around the room. "Has anyone been in touch with Gambit or Cannonball?"

"They heard the news and just called." Scott replied. "They should be home by the time you get back from your visit."

"Scott, I would like for you to go with me tomorrow night when I see Magneto. I do not know what to make of him asking me to visit like this, it may be related to the attack on the White House. I may need your insight into what this could mean for our ‘family’ and we might need to make some hasty executive decisions."

Scott looked over at Ororo. "That means you fly with Jean to Boston."

"Of course." Ororo clutched Hank’s hand under the table. Separation at a time like this was not going to be easy, but, as Scott and Jean were facing the same situation, she would be brave as well.

"Don’t go." Again Logan had everyone in the room looking at him but his attention was directed solely at Xavier. The Professor and the Wolverine locked eyes for a moment; Xavier turned away first.

"Henry, you and Logan will head separate teams. One group will go with you and the children as protection and one will stay here with Logan to guard our home. Scott will oversee the division of the trainees that will be under your supervision."

Charles gazed at their faces even as he registered most of their thoughts. They were facing this bravely and he was proud of them. His only concern was Logan’s belief about Erik. Charles had received a startling mental picture of just what Logan thought Magneto was capable of. Xavier shook his head. Logan didn’t know Erik like he did. There wouldn’t be trouble, he was sure of it, not at a time like this.

---

The Oval Office was quiet now, unlike yesterday afternoon when a blue devil had popped out of nowhere, obviously intent on harming the head of the executive branch. Two secret servicemen had been posted in the room, in lieu of the morning’s visitors. To the President this seemed to be an attack on the small amount of privacy he had left in his life, but he had agreed to the precaution when he found out one of the visitors was a virtual unknown. There was a soft knock at the door.

"Come." He did not look up from the paperwork on his desk.

"Mr. President, Mr. William Stryker and Senator Robert Kelly are here, sir. Are you ready for them?"

"Yes, yes. Send them in." He hated emergency meetings. They interfered with his schedule. Unfortunately, he could not ignore the events of yesterday and had to act quickly on this or it would be seen as a weakness to his constituents. He had not wanted to meet the obviously anti-mutant military liaison without having the opposite side of the coin represented by the senator. Even his worst critics admitted that his presidential decisions were fair or at least fairly deliberated.

He did not rise as his visitors were seated, preferring to let them settle on the chairs provided before addressing their presence. Finally he abandoned the paperwork and stood, vacating his desk and advancing on them without offering to shake hands.

"Good morning Senator Kelly," he said, nodding in the direction of a man he had come to know well in the last three years.

There was an answering nod and the President focused on Kelly’s pale features. The man had done a complete one-eighty on his stand of mutant rights and it was still a mystery on Capital Hill as to why. He wanted this solved, today. The President turned to face the other intruder into the inner sanctum of the West Wing of the White House. He immediately did not like the man’s eyes. They made him feel like a bug under a microscope.

"Mr. Stryker. I believe you called the other day with the promise of delivering information on mutants. What can you tell me?" He did not sit knowing it would put the others at a visual disadvantage and convey the message that this meeting would be short.

Stryker cleared his throat. "It’s more a case of what I can show you, Mr. President. I have recently received news on the activities of a certain ‘school for gifted youngsters’ in rural Westchester County, New York. I have reason to believe it is a terrorist cell focusing on mutant training."

Kelly cleared his throat. "I am familiar with that school. I hardly feel those ‘children’ are a threat to the United States, Mr. President."

"You are familiar with it?" Stryker’s small eyes narrowed on the good senator.

The President added, "Go on, Senator. We’re all ears."

"I recently visited it. There are mutant children there, I agree. But the focus of the school is to allow the youngsters to control and manage the unfortunate mutations they have been dealt. This school is a benefit to these children and nothing leads me to believe otherwise."

"Why the turn around on mutants, Senator? What has been going on with you these last two years?"

Kelly sighed. "I have been diagnosed with cancer, Mr. President. I’m afraid this accounts for some of my absences from Capital Hill. The treatments have been a rather rude awakening to the short amount of time I may have left on this earth. When I was first told of my medical test results, I delved into just what cancer is. Did you know that cancer is a mutation of normal cells? My cancer may not be any different and may be just as unwelcome as the cell structure that contains mutations which cause certain children to grow and change in unfortunate ways with horrific powers they do not want. They are then labeled as ‘freaks’. Sir, I ask you, am I a ‘freak’ because I have mutated cells within me? I believe my illness has given me a better insight into just what kind of hell these ‘other’ humans go through."

"Really." Stryker let the word roll slowly out of his mouth. "Senator, I must disagree. I have been employed by the military for many years to track down and try to understand mutants. They have been around longer than you can imagine, decades even. In all that time, I have found that mutants are more than willing to use any ‘unfortunate and unwelcome cell structures and horrific powers’ to take advantage of or even kill humans on a whim. They may seem perfectly normal one minute and then go on a rampage the next." He held up a folder. "This is my report on that school and the personnel there."

The President took the packet, still reeling from Kelly’s speech. The man had been diagnosed with cancer and was using this terrible situation to try to understand a heretofore-unknown branch of his own species? Quite an heroic act for a mere politician. He opened the folder and began to view the contents, noting the pictures as he glanced over the documents.

As he flipped the pages, one photo caught his eye. It was the blue mutant who had been here yesterday. He read the information attached to it and words like ‘unstable’, ‘aggressive’, and ‘psychotic’ leaped from the paragraphs. What he remembered was the blank expression on the man’s face. That is until one of his ‘bodyguards’ had grazed him with a bullet. The features of the mutant had been so close he actually saw patterns seemingly etched on the blue skin and did not miss the change from blank to astonished to fearful to almost apologetic looks before the blue man vanished in a puff of smoke that smelled…unusual.

He sighed and shifted his focus back on the two men. "After what I witnessed yesterday, senator, I can believe that at least one mutant went on some sort of an aggressive display of power."

"You were not harmed in the end, Mr. President." Kelly was trying to be reasonable. "This seems more like an act staged to get your attention than anything else."

The President closed the folder and held it up. "I’ll keep this for now and will review it more thoroughly later."

"They may attempt to flee at any moment. As a precaution, they really should be detained for questioning." Stryker’s tone was reminiscent of a parent admonishing a child.

"I don’t like you, Mr. Stryker and I don’t like this. Military operations that have been going on secretly for decades make my teeth itch. None of my predecessors knew anything about your ‘mission’ to find information on a species we have only recently been exposed to." The President frowned then waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine, Mr. Stryker. Detain them for questioning, but do nothing else without authorization from me. I don’t know if this was a ploy to gain my attention, as the good senator says, or what, but I do feel there is more here than meets the eye. We’ve had two years of relative quiet... it seems a little much for this to happen right now.

"There have been terrorist cells operating in Canada for years under our close scrutiny, gentlemen. How a little school in our own backyard could harbor such dangers and escape our notice is beyond me."

They stood as he went back to his desk and sat. The pen he picked up was brandished like a sword at Stryker. "Understand this, they are still humans and should be treated with the same rights accorded to the rest of the citizens of this country. I don’t want any lawsuit headaches coming out of this."

The President watched the two men leave and could sense the dislike they held for one another. It couldn’t be helped. At least he had more information now. He turned and faced the two secret service men.

"All right, now you have more to go on. Check with the military again and tell them to go back a few decades this time. I would appreciate it if you let me know who he really is."
------

(Chapter 6)

"Ah don’t want to leave you," Marie murmured.

Logan gripped her firmly, burying his face in her soft, silky hair. They were sitting on the edge of his bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. He finally released her and sighed. They had spent last night engaged in a tender, but passionate, physical display of their love for each other. Now they were up and dressed with duties to attend to. The realities of the morning had set in and separation was imminent.

"If you’re with McCoy, I’ll know you’re safe." He fingered the streak in her hair.

"Chicken." Her bottom lip was in that wonderful pouting position, the one that made him want to kiss her soundly and recklessly.

He grunted. "I know you can hold your own in a fight, Marie, but we may be dealing with people who would think nothing of taking you apart in sick scientific experiments."

"It won’t happen. We don’t even know if there’s a danger. You’re trying to get rid of me." Her liquid brown eyes dared him to lie to her.

"Damn straight, I am. This mansion could become a defensive position. Jubilee has a better chance of holding them off at a distance than you do. You can only defend yourself in close quarters and your mutation is only triggered at point-blank range. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"Ah know more about the intruder traps you put around here than anyone else, even Scott. Are you saying Ah couldn’t set them off while you, Pyro, and Iceman take them down the hard way? Besides, you’re best at close quarters, too. That’s like the pot calling the kettle black."

Logan shook his head. This argument was not going well. He heard footsteps approaching but did nothing to hide the intimate way in which he held his mate. Everyone at the mansion knew how he felt about her by now.

Scott knocked on the open door and sadly gazed at the two sitting on the bed. He and Jean had done the same thing last night, clinging to each other before Jean left for Boston. He suspected Hank and Ororo had experienced the same sort of parting as well. After he and Hank had seen their ladies off in the hangar a few hours ago, the big blue man had sighed down to his toes before padding away to check on the arrangements for the children. At least Scott could stop this separation. Even Jean had said Logan needed Rogue more than ever right now.

Summers cleared his throat. "Jubilee wanted to say goodbye, Rogue. You might want to send her off with a hug."

"Now wait a minute…" growled Logan.

Scott held up his hands. "Doctors orders, Logan. Rogue’s to stay with you since she’s the only one who’s been able to make sure you’re taken care of."

"I won’t be able to concentrate with her around."

"You will, too. You’re a professional and this is business." Scott quirked a small grin at Rogue when Logan wasn’t looking. "Besides, Hank wanted someone who could defend them from a distance or create a distraction for a getaway. Colossus and Shadowcat can’t help him there."

"Pete had better stick to driving the bus. He hasn’t been trained enough to be a full X-Man, yet. He still has problems throwing a punch."

"No time like the present to learn. How hard can it be for Piotr to flip over or crush anything that gets in their way? He wouldn’t leave Illyana or Kitty in anyone else’s care. Besides he’s really taken the training you and I have given him to heart and has improved a lot in the last two weeks. He even picked a code name for himself."

"I know. Where did he come up with ‘Colossus’?"

Rogue blushed. "Kitty and Ah came up with it, for different reasons."

Logan snorted, then grew thoughtful. "Scott, hold up," he said as the team leader prepared to leave. He turned to Rogue. "I’ll be there in a minute to help say goodbye to the kids."

Recognizing that as an ‘us guys need a chance to talk’ kind of thing, Marie kissed him and stood, then sauntered out the door, glad to have Scott on her side about whose team she truly belonged on.

---

A few blocks away from the White House the nondescript black car met up with a nondescript jeep in a non-populated park.

"Miller, is Deathstrike set? How about the school?"

"Yes, sir, she is. We’ll set up near the mansion shortly. Deitrich maintains the target is still there. Do we have permission for a go tonight?"

"Good. Yes, we do. As for the President, he took the bait but wants to limit my program. Totally unacceptable, but then he won’t be in office much longer. No matter." Stryker waved a hand as if to push all presidential matters aside. "Why the delay on the set up?"

Miller blanched. "There was a loss of time in getting the convoy out. Baker turned up missing and they had to do a search. He was found on the Southern perimeter, dead from a rattlesnake attack."

"He didn’t radio for help?"

"He must have slipped in the sand and hit his head on a rock. He was standing for the first two strikes and lying down for the third one."

"Whatever." Stryker did not bother to hide the irritation in his voice. "The delay might have cost us; it’s a good thing our target is still there. We’ll go in tonight and scoop up what we can. Kill only as a last resort. As soon as we’re done, I’ll handle what Deathstrike catches at that little mutant prison. You’ll move the others to Alkali. Wait for me before running any tests."

He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Oh, and Miller? Have your men pick up Senator Kelly, right away. He knows about Xavier’s school and might try to warn them. Search him and take his cell phone and anything else you can get. Ransack his place, cut his phone lines, and confine him to that address. Leak it to the press that he’s under house arrest." He waited as Miller forwarded the information over his radio.

"Done," replied the sergeant. "They’re taking him now."

"Any news of Nightcrawler?"

"No sir. Something must have triggered a pain reaction and he escaped. We’re searching for his chip signal now but he must be out of range."

"See if you can send someone to that church where we first picked him up. Check for a signal there. Leak a description of Nightcrawler to the press as well. Give out some sort of notification number and start monitoring any and all police frequencies you pass through. He’s too distinctive not to be spotted."

"Yes sir."

---

Fuerte had been in the Lieutenant’s office for only a moment, it seemed, long enough to pass on what she had seen and heard. Afraid to take more time in case she missed the convoy when it left, she had taken off for her house to grab some supplies as soon as she had his permission to follow them and relay information back to him. Even as she closed Lieutenant Patterson’s door, she heard him start the phone calls to other agencies.

Her supervisor had pegged it as a possible kidnapping and illegal alien forced labor ring, just as she did, especially after he saw the images she had captured with her binoculars. She had found them a while ago in a Discovery catalogue, birdwatcher binoculars, very powerful, with a digital camera built in. They had come in handy more than once. This time, though, she hadn’t shown him everything. She had held back the images of the blue man, not sure of what it meant.

The compound had delayed starting out and she had easily made it back in time to track the convoy as it left. They had probably spent time searching for Baker, she reasoned. That was yesterday. Today Fuerte was exhausted. She had been on the road for what seemed like forever, stopping whenever the convoy stopped and catching whatever shuteye she could. Judging from her maps, they had rapidly headed across the central states, straight for the upper East Coast, using the fastest routes possible and ignoring speed limits. At this rate and direction, they would hit the state of New York in minutes.

Desperate to try to stay awake, she flipped through stations on the radio, looking for any loud and obnoxious music. That was when she heard the morning broadcast. A description of the blue man was given out in connection with an attack on the White House that had occurred yesterday afternoon. They had even given a number to call if anyone had sighted him.

She had her cell phone out and was dialing when a thought struck her. The Secret Service would never have given out a description of the suspect to the press without making it official. The reporter had simply said it was an unnamed source. Who would benefit by finding the blue man and would leak a description? The bearded man had been controlling the blue man, she was sure of it. Just how powerful was this bearded man? The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she realized she might be onto something more than just a kidnapping and she put the phone down. The danger of the situation hit her. The bearded man had sent the blue man to kill the President, but the President wasn’t dead. Now he would need the blue man back, possibly for another attempt, and had enough sway to put out a search through the media. Could the military be in on it?

Fuerte glanced at the dashboard clock. She was supposed to check in with her supervisor now so the FBI could plan a rendezvous with her and take the convoy. There had been delays when she had told them what kind of weaponry the convoy was packing. No one liked to be caught with their pants down, especially the FBI, so they scrambled to assemble more firepower for the takedown. But, if the FBI stopped the convoy now, would they still be able to find out more about the bearded man and the blue man? She had been looking forward to handing everything over to the government agency and getting some sleep. Now it looked like she was stuck. If she delayed, it could mean an end of her law enforcement career, but she might be privy to more information that could save the President.

Fuerte mentally flipped a coin. All right, she would wait another hour. Every delay meant the convoy could reach a destination that might be fortified and increase the difficulty of extracting the OTMs. She would take the fall if she was wrong, but her feminine intuition was on the alert and she always trusted it.

"Flora," she told herself, "you had better be right on this one."
------

(Chapter 7)

The atmosphere inside the garage was definitely somber. The children were slowly piling into a very nice, but nondescript bus, lugging their prized possessions with them. Hugs were exchanged and tears flowed freely. Scott and Logan walked in on the scene and decided to lighten the mood a little. Scott whistled sharply and caught everyone’s attention, especially the Wolverine’s, who glared and rubbed his ears.

"Listen up. Everyone have pencil and paper?" There were nods of assent. "Good. While you are away on your field trip, I want you to do one of three projects. One, write letters to all your teachers who are not with you, two, keep a journal of the adventures you have on your journey, or three, write the best and scariest ghost story to tell around a campfire. Extra points will be given for illustrations."

There was an immediate barrage of questions.

"So this is more of a camping trip?"

"Are we going to have adventures?"

"Can I do more than one project?"

"Do we use visual aids for the ghost story?"

"Yes, yes, yes, and I’d like to see ‘em if you have any," answered Logan.

The mood brightened considerably. Chatting and laughter were now heard and the kids began to throw their luggage into the bottom of the bus and rush inside it to claim their seats.

"Wow, our own adventure!" Megan jumped into Logan’s arms and gave him a big hug. "I wish you could come with us."

"Me, too, kitten. You’d better help McCoy with the rest of the kids. And keep an eye on Dutch. Don’t let him wander off and get lost."

"Dutch gets to go with us?" She laughed and jumped down, quickly embracing Scott before running off to tell her friends.

Beast walked up and shook his head. "You aren’t serious, are you? I have more than enough to contend with and you give me the canine as well?" He watched as the overgrown, noisy puppy was hauled into the vehicle.

Charles rolled himself over after saying his good-byes to the children. "Nice work, Scott. I’m afraid it can’t be helped, Henry. We can’t leave the dog here, knowing this place might become a target for an attack."

"It will, sooner or later," Logan said darkly. "We won’t be able to hold it for long, but maybe we can make them think twice about what they’re doing."

"If they do attack, they’ll never get into the lower level without explosives." Scott offered. "Hopefully the fight will last long enough to attract the attention of the locals and make it more difficult to pull off their raid."

"I am confident in your plan, Scott, and I trust that Logan will do all he can to stave them off." Charles looked at Henry and held out a hand. "Good luck, my friend."

Piotr yelled from the bus, "Are we to go now?"

"Yes, yes," muttered Hank. "I’m still not sure about having him drive." He clasped hands with Scott and slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder.

"You’d attract a little too much attention behind the wheel, fuzzbutt." Logan said as he shook hands also.

Everyone boarded the bus with the exception of Jubilee and Kitty, who were to drive the spotter car in front. Their job was to run interference if anything went wrong. The morning sun was a cheerful backdrop as they waved and pulled out onto the drive, the bus slowly following. As soon as they hit the road at the end of the property, one problem became apparent. The bus had maneuvered into the wrong lane. Logan actually started to smile.

"I never thought about that. Give me that radio," muttered Scott.

Logan held it away from the team leader. "What’s the matter? Did you forget to tell him how to drive in America?"

They watched as Kitty phased through the roof of the car, waving frantically for the bus to move into the right lane.

"Shall we go inside now?" Xavier nodded his head at the three remaining students. "I believe there are a few more details we need to discuss in regards to this situation. Who knows? We might even have time to squeeze in a lengthy physics lesson before lunch."

Rogue, Bobby, and St. John followed the professor indoors. Logan heard the faint chuckles before the doors closed behind them. He keyed the radio.

"Colossus."

"Yes?" They could hear Hank yelling in the background amid laughter from the children.

"Americans drive on the right-hand side. Always keep any yellow lines on your left." They watched as the tiny bus moved over, almost out of sight now due to all the trees along the road.

Logan keyed the radio again. "Speak Russian to me."

Scott heard an unintelligible gibberish rattle over the airwaves. Logan concentrated and began to answer in kind. A long conversation ensued. When Logan signed off, he looked at Scott.

"Are they going to do it?" Scott asked.

"Yes."

"Good. I hate not knowing something, but your argument was sound."

Logan registered the younger man’s frustration. "Think of it this way, sodium pentathol doesn’t work on me."

"Yeah, I know. That’s why I agreed to this." Scott shook his head and looked hard at Logan. "If anything does happen, you’ll look after Jean, won’t you?"

"Not a problem. I expect you to do the same for Rogue."

Scott nodded. "Of course. Goes without saying."

The two men walked into the mansion.

---

"No, no, no! Shit, this cannot be happening!" Fuerte watched in disbelief as the column in front of her melted out of sight.

For the last thirty minutes the road had twisted and turned through wooded areas and she had lost sight of the convoy. When she had crested a hill, she realized that almost half of the twenty-eight vehicles had disappeared. How the hell had she missed them? Now they had come to an intersection of several highways and the remaining column of trucks split off into several pre-arranged groups, each taking a separate exit to another road. Her sleep-deprived brain fought to kick itself into gear but it was too late. In trying to keep up with them all she ended up losing every one.

She turned on her cell phone and punched some buttons. "Lieutenant?"

The answering yell over the phone reminded her that she was almost an hour late checking in.

"Yes, sir, I know. We have a problem."

She quickly relayed the information on the current situation and gave her whereabouts. For almost five minutes she listened to the answering tirade at the other end of the connection. It seemed INS and the FBI had pulled together a joint assault team and had been champing at the bit to put out their unmarked units and choppers, which were only miles ahead of her. Patterson had gone to bat for her several times and had made sure her career advanced as a testament to her hard work and dedication. She could hear the disappointment in his voice as he yelled his frustration at her disregard for his orders. He had been unable to reach her and his worry had turned into anger. She registered the punishment with mute nods. She was now on extended vacation pending an investigation into her actions by Internal Affairs.

"Yes, sir. I understand. I’m going to try and get some sleep and head back. Yes, sir, I will. I was just…" He hung up on her.

Hands shaking, she cut the phone off and threw it down on the passenger seat. Her eyes were tearing up with anger and she quickly wiped them dry with the back of her hand. She spotted a sign up ahead that said she was now on the Bear Mountain State Parkway. Essentially, she was lost. Fuerte realized she was on the edge of losing it from lack of sleep and decided to gas up her car and check into the nearest hotel, despite the fact that it was just an hour shy of lunch. She had told her supervisor she would stop and she would. She just hoped there was a good hotel somewhere in Westchester County, New York.
------

(Chapter 8)

"Ah guess that’s that." Marie looked out the window and watched the big black car pull away with Scott at the wheel.

"I guess so," acknowledged Bobby. His heart skipped a beat and he smiled, realizing he was scared and excited about the impending mission. "To tell you the truth, I’m a little nervous. It’s kind of creepy to think about having bad guys come knocking on our door for a change."

"Yeah," seconded St. John. "With our uniforms and all, it’s always felt like we were superheroes going off to save the world. It’s like our secret identity has been blown or something."

"Logan said the best chance for a raid would be after dark." Bobby looked out at the afternoon sunshine. "What do we do in the meantime?"

"Ah don’t know about you two, but Ah intend to finish that report for Ororo’s class. History is not my strongest subject and Ah mean to take advantage of this extra time to get it done." She fingered the pill bottle in her pocket. "Did you say Logan thinks they’ll come at night?"

"Yeah, why?"

She pulled out the bottle and studied it carefully. Scott had told her the pills would cause anyone else to fall into a deep coma and to be extremely careful with them. Should she give one to Logan now and let him get some rest before tonight? She shook her head. They really didn’t know when or if anyone would attack the mansion, but it was better not to put her lover in jeopardy. If the pills could knock him off his feet for thirty minutes that meant he’d be helpless during that time.

"What’s that?" Bobby looked at the bottle and then at Rogue. "Are you sick?"

"No. Jean prescribed some sleeping pills for Logan."

St. John whistled. "Those must be some pills. I thought stuff like that didn’t have any effect on him."

"Oh, they’d only keep him asleep for a short time, a small nap really. But Ah think Ah’ll wait until tomorrow to give him one. We really don’t know what’s going to happen tonight."

"He’s having trouble sleeping again, isn’t he? Damned nightmares." Bobby shook his head. "You’re right. That can wait until it’s safe. Maybe you can get him to rest some other way." Bobby winked at her.

"Why Mr. Drake, Ah don’t have a clue what you’re talking about." Rogue smiled demurely and her cheeks softened with a rosy color. The two males in the room appreciated the sight.

"He’s a lucky man. I wish I had my girlfriend with me right now," said St. John.

"When do we get to meet this mystery lady?" Bobby laughed. "For all we know you’re making her up."

"No, no, she’s real." He grinned and sighed. "She’s something else. She’s sweet and funny and, well, hot, all wrapped up in one package."

"Sounds too good to be true," winked Rogue and she nudged Bobby with her elbow.

"So how would you give Logan those pills?" St. John tried to change the subject.

"I think he’s smitten, don’t you?" Bobby laughed and opened the refrigerator. "Anyone else need a drink?"

"Could you grab a soda for me?" asked Marie. She touched St. John’s sleeve. "Ah didn’t mean to give you a hard time about your girlfriend. She must really be sweet if you’re with her."

St. John gave her a smile. "She is. I swear you’ll meet her one day."

Bobby handed Rogue a soda, and started to down another when he asked, "So, how would you give Logan one of those pills?"

"You have to dissolve it in a liquid." They eyed the soda in her hand. She saw the direction they were headed and quickly put them straight. "Ah would never give him one on the sly, fellas. Ah would tell him. Besides, he’d probably smell the difference in the drink."

"Not if he’s really, really tired," murmured St. John.

---

"I’ve got a really, really bad feeling about this, Remy."

Gambit shot a sideways glance at the passenger seat of the SUV. Samuel was again running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair and nervously glancing out the window.

"You had no doubts about this little trip before, mon ami. What’s not to like about going to New Orleans to celebrate turning twenty-two? I was surprised that Summers and Logan let us go."

"I think Logan understood we needed some time to sow some wild oats. I know I needed to let off some steam."

"Well, we did work hard on the projects to defend the mansion. I only hope they will never be needed." Remy looked at the latest road sign as it passed. "So, little one, you liked Vieux Carre, the French Quarter, no?"

"Most definitely and watch who you call little. You’re only three days older and one inch taller." The handsome young man laughed. "Who knew you Cajuns had such beautiful women stashed away there?" Samuel smiled as he remembered the three nights of fun they had touring the nightlife and all the pleasantries that went with it.

Remy shook his head. "If we had not had such a good time, we would not have had to stop back there at that motel. Now at least we can drive straight through the night to get home." They passed another sign. "Bon, we can make it by early morning if we drive in shifts."

"Good," replied the other, "Something tells this country boy we need to get home straight away."

"We will. Get some rest. I’ll wake you in an hour or so."

---

They were all in the library. Bobby was reading up on his accounting homework, St. John was deep into the latest MacWorld magazine, and Rogue was chewing the end off yet another pen with what seemed like a half a ream of paper in front of her. Logan walked in, saw the mess, and turned on his heel to go.

"Oh no you don’t. Come back here and lay down on that couch." She didn’t even look up. "You told me you would take a break soon."

He glanced out the window. It was still fairly light outside and he had just finished another check of the grounds. He had also finished penning the horses outside in the paddock, as he did not want to see them become trapped in the barn if it caught fire. He saw the sly grins on the young men’s faces and gave them a scowl that would have made a grown man think twice about giving him a hard time. They started to laugh and he had to chuckle as well. They knew him too well. Then he sobered. If there really was a fight tonight they had to know what they were up against, not just with the soldiers, with him.

"Listen up," he said as he sat on the sofa, "there’s something you need to know." He waited until he had their undivided attention before going on.

"I don’t know if you’re up on all the details of what happened in Canada back in November…"

"We know about Graves and what he was going to do," offered Bobby.

"I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about what I did to Graves."

"You were high on that drug, though," said St. John.

"I was, but that isn’t the first time I’ve killed like that. I have a temper as you all know. I also have a rage that I can’t always keep under control in a fight. If something happens tonight and we’re under attack, I may let it loose. I won’t apologize for it as it’s part of what I am. I may become bloody and brutal, but that kind of defense may save your life and that’s what I’m counting on. I want to warn you now not to be too quick to run up to me if I’ve been tearing the enemy apart. Got it?"

They nodded. Logan did not miss the fact that, though they were nervous, there was no fear in their eyes when they looked at him.

"Cyclops told us that you might become ‘extremely focused’ on the enemy and warned us not to approach you too fast. He also said to look out for you. He said they would want you most of all and might try to use us against you." Bobby spoke for all of them.

Logan was stunned at first, then realized it made perfect sense. Scott would figure they needed to know all of the dangers of the situation, even if some of those dangers came from Logan himself. That was one of the reasons why he would take any orders at all from the younger man; deep down he respected Scott and his leadership methods, even though he could be a pain in the ass sometimes. The fact that Scott did not miss Logan’s value to the enemy and what they might do to get him simply confirmed his ability to think clearly and assess all tactical angles.

"One other thing," Logan continued. "If we are attacked tonight, they won’t come in with guns blazing. They will want you alive. They will not play nice. Neither should you. I’m not saying kill them on sight, I’m saying be smart. Don’t put yourself in a situation where you’re out of options. Always leave yourself an escape route. We will probably end up leaving here in a hurry so grab what you want to go with you now and come back here." He looked at their faces and realized he had missed something. "What?"

"I have everything I need on me," Bobby grinned.

"Me, too," chimed in St. John.

Marie held up a small shoulder backpack. "Ah even have a change of shirts for you, just in case…"

"We learned survival from the best, what can we say?" commented Bobby.

Logan shook his head and lay down on the couch. "I guess we have nothing to worry about, then."
------

(Chapter 9)

The last evening mass had finished and the church was now closing. It was after midnight, so slipping inside was fairly easy but finding what they wanted was not. Jean kept up a mental dialogue with Ororo so there would not be any noise. Since the church bordered a major street, they refrained from using their flashlights to avoid attracting attention. The further inside they went, though, the spookier it became and they were sorely tempted to turn them on. Churches were definitely not for the faint of heart, not in the dead of night.

When approached earlier in the day, the priests had denied there was anyone else on the grounds besides the members of the order. What they didn’t know was that Jean picked up on the fact they considered the mutant hiding within their walls to be one of their own. None of them had known exactly where he was or she would have been able to pinpoint his location. The best she could do was narrow it down to the sanctuary. Looking around the huge structure with its choir loft, organ loft, sacristy, narthex, and altar, Jean and Ororo realized there was a lot of ground to cover and they were rapidly running out of time before preparations began for the first service in the morning.

A noise occurred in front of them and they moved silently forward.

(Do you smell something strange?) Jean raised an eyebrow and Ororo nodded in answer.

Again they heard a noise, like a small balloon losing all its air at once. A strange odor wafted past them.

(Did you hear…?) began Jean. She mentally zeroed in on someone above them and held up her hand just as something dropped down.

Ororo flipped on her flashlight and beheld a very strange sight. Framed by the beautiful architecture of the gothic ceiling, a blue devil, tail waving, was sprawled in the air over their heads. She tactfully closed her mouth and smiled warmly.

Taken aback by his arrested fall and the beautiful women below him, the man showed his astonishment in his large yellow eyes.

"My name is Jean and this is Storm. We are part of the X-Men, fellow mutants who have banded together to protect others. We believe you are in need of assistance. Will you let us help you?"

A slow smile spread across his face and they realized just how blue his skin was in relation to his white teeth.

"At the moment, ladies, I would simply like to touch the ground again." His voice was low and had a German accent.

His tail twitched slightly and, in an instant, there was a puff of smoke and he was gone. They heard the small rush of air to fill the void and smelled a slight burning smell. At that same moment there was a sound behind them and they turned to face him. The women stepped back and Jean raised her hand again but he held up both of his first.

"I wish you no harm, but I will not let you harm me either. Say what you have to say and then leave."

Jean took a breath. "We have a friend who woke up one morning with no memory. We think he was abused by a military operation that used him as an assassin. We have reason to think you have been used in a similar manner and want to know if there is anything we can do for you. If you can, please tell us what happened to you so we can go after the ones who did this and make sure it doesn’t happen again."

It was evident this was the last thing he expected to hear. The man ran a hand through his dark, disheveled hair, seemingly making up his mind about something. They realized his hands looked different as well, as if his four fingers had been fused to form two.

"I believe you are telling me the truth, but I need to know one thing first. Did your friend ever remember what happened to him? Did he ever find out what they made him do? If he ever killed anyone?"

"No," Ororo answered this time and her soft voice sounded oddly at home in the vast church. "He will probably never know all that they did to him or what they made him do while under their control."

Her face was sincere and he nodded as if expecting the answer. "My name is Kurt and, you’re right, I may be in some trouble but I don’t know enough about what is going on to really be sure."

Jean nodded. "We understand." She motioned toward a pew. "Let’s talk."

"Not here." He approached them gently and pointed to a small stairwell. "Upstairs would be best."

---

"We’re ready, sir."

Stryker looked away from his binoculars. Miller stood before him. No one was indispensable, but this young man had proven himself again and again and would be hard to replace.

"Miller, don’t forget to send your best in last. You stay here with me and go in when I do."

"But, sir, I feel…"

"Don’t feel, don’t think, just do as I say. You’ll live a lot longer. The biggest weakness is that main hall area. That’s where you should send in the most men."

"I already have teams set to enter at the ends of these two areas and cut off their escape, here and here, and others to watch the main building from the outside, here." Miller pointed to the map that lay on the jeep hood in front of Miller.

"No, Miller. That was not what we agreed on. Set two teams here, and here, and put one more here. Now, concentrate the majority here and make sure these are expendable." He could see this made no sense to the young Sergeant. "You and I and the best team will enter here to cut off their escape, but only after twenty minutes."

"Why twenty minutes?"

Stryker grinned. "Because even the Wolverine gets tired after killing so many men."

Miller was startled. "How many men will I lose?"

"Almost everyone you send into that main foyer."

"But…"

"It’s a necessary loss, Miller. You don’t want to face him when he’s fully rested."

"I know, sir. You told me what he can do with those knives, but I still think we can handle him."

"He’s the best kind of killer you could ever imagine. Don’t underestimate him or you’ll wind up dead. Make sure your men get bullets into him, they’ll slow him down." He looked through the binoculars again. "Where are the children? I expected to see children."

Miller’s mouth compressed into a thin line. "Deitrich said they left on a bus this morning and did not report it. He thought you only wanted the Wolverine." He stood a little straighter. "It’s my fault, sir. I was investigating the Wolverine at the time he came here and I feel I influenced his poor decision." He glanced at the mansion. "Are you sure you don’t want to send me in with the first teams?"

Stryker didn’t respond at first, then he sighed as he put the field glasses down. "Such a disappointment. However, according to the old mutant we interrogated in the plastic cell, the one Deathstrike will capture at the prison runs the whole show at this school. We’ll get the location of the children from him. I do regret Deitrich’s decision. Poor decision making abilities will get you into trouble, don’t you agree, Miller?"

"Yes, sir."

"Send him in with the expendables. I want to hear him scream."

"Yes, sir." Miller gave an involuntary shiver and walked away to go over the revised strategy with his men.

Stryker began to hum softly, happily to himself. "Should I tell him I just want to see you in action again? I think not. Soon I’ll have you back, my pet. Then we can rehash old times."

---

"That’s it. My paper’s done." She threw the pen down and rubbed her hand. "Ah wish Storm would go back to accepting typed papers."

Bobby frowned. "She won’t since smoky over here pulled that stunt last semester on her computer."

"I never intended to pass that work off as mine, you know!"

"Now, gentlemen. She will forgive us one of these days. In the meantime, Ah say we break for an early morning snack and celebrate. So, what’s on the menu?" She yawned.

They had all decided to stay together, which meant none of them could scoot off to their own bed. While the couches looked inviting, none of the three were calm enough to try to catch a few winks.

"I could go for pizza," suggested Bobby.

St. John snorted. "You’re almost as bad as Sam."

Marie’s eyes rested on Logan. "Any suggestions, sugar?"

Since they had raided the refrigerator for their dinner several hours ago, Logan had paced around the mansion. After a couple of hours of this, Marie had corralled him in one of the empty dorm halls and kissed him into submission. She finally convinced him to stay with them in the library since it was centrally located off the main hall and they could move anywhere from there. He had gone back to the couch and lay very still, resting quietly with an arm over his eyes. Whether or not he had actually napped was anyone’s guess.

"No pizza. I’m not cooking, not now." He sat up and stretched. "I guess we could grab some sort of snack." He stood, as did the others.

The lights dimmed and went out. The backup generator in the hangar kicked in and a few strategically placed recessed ceiling lights came on, offering them a dim view of their surroundings. Logan pointed to Marie who whipped out her cell phone and punched a few buttons. Logan motioned to Bobby and St. John, then flashed ten fingers twice. They headed out of the library in different directions. He listened in on the conversation between Marie and the emergency agency.

"9-1-1 operator, Westchester County, what’s your emergency?"

"Ah’m alone at the Xavier School for the Gifted and Talented in Peekskill. The lights just went out and Ah smell gas. Ah think there might be someone outside..."

"Keep calm, miss. Please state your address."

"Oh my God! Somebody’s breaking in!" Rogue clicked the phone off and looked at Logan. "Good enough?"

He nodded and flashed ten fingers then nine fingers at her before leaving the room on silent feet. She backed up to the wall behind her and slid through a secret panel into a hidden stairwell.
------

(Chapter 10)

They approached the East entry, intent on capturing mutants. As the small squad neared the door, they spotted an unusual statue of a man in the center of the garden, lit by moonlight and shining like crystal. Silently they passed it and headed for their quarry when the doors before them changed color from brown to pure white. The man in the lead touched them and jerked his hand back.

"It’s ice!" he hissed.

They turned to go around to another door and found the way blocked. Walls had appeared on all sides of them, walls of solid ice that hemmed them in as neatly as rats in a trap. Ordered to silence during the first phase of the operation, they shivered and kept an eye on their watches, stamping their feet to keep warm as they waited for the time when they could blast their way out with firepower.

---

Mounting the outside fire escapes, a much larger squad entered the upper floor through windows and made its way down the main second floor corridor. As prearranged, they split into two teams and started searching rooms on either side of the hall. They found no one. The eerie silence started to prey on them and they hastily moved together toward the head of the stairs. The bulk of the company headed down to the main entry below while a few remaining soldiers made their way to where the corridor made an L-shaped corner. As they continued searching second floor rooms for victims they passed well out of sight of their descending comrades. A small flicking noise was heard in the silence. As one, the team turned to looked behind them. An enormous fireball filled the hall, barreling rapidly toward their position.

"Jump!" screamed the leader and they shattered windows in their haste to escape the searing heat.

Looking at the scorched woodwork on either side of the hall, Pyro muttered, "The Professor isn’t going to be too happy with me," before he slid out of sight through a charred panel.

---

As another team moved stealthily across the lawn past the stables and the paddock on their way toward the near end of the building, sprinkler heads shot up from the grass.

"Watch it!" The leader raised his assault weapon, trying to block the water that would surely come out of the black stems at his feet.

A soft hissing sound was heard. Too late the leader realized that gas, not water, was spraying out of the tubes. He and his men hit the soft earth beneath them as they sank into a deep sleep.

---

Twenty three members of the second floor commandos made their way down the stairs, nervous and jumpy after losing contact with their fellow squad members. As they reached the main entry, a low growl met their ears. A shadow seemed to race across the area and encircle them. One soldier panicked and let off a burst of fire at the direction of movement. Unfortunately, his gun sprayed some of his fellow soldiers with its bullets and two men went down. A soft chuckle met their ears. Suddenly two other men were thrown backwards into the air, shrieking. Beams of light danced crazily around the vast spooky space, searching desperately for the cause of the mayhem. Another soldier cried out sharply and flashlights zeroed in on him as he fell. A man stood where the other had been, blood dripping from knives that extended from his hands. He smiled in a dark, feral way.

"Boo."

Gunfire and shouts, interlaced with screams, pierced the night.

---

Rogue met up with Iceman and Pyro in the Library after she had set the door and window timers. Their twenty minutes was almost up. They made their way into the main hall and stopped, frozen by the sight that awaited them. Death was everywhere. In the middle of it stood Logan, illuminated by fallen flashlight beams, breathing hard as he ripped apart the last soldier who was wild-eyed and frantically pumping the trigger on his gun, not realizing it was only clicking as its clip was empty.

Logan whirled and faced them, nostrils flared. Blood flowed down his arms and the scent of it filled his brain. He had let loose his rage, venting all his anger and predatory instincts on those who dared to attack his home, mate, and family and now he had lost himself in it, reveling in the dark, animalistic aggression. His foes had fallen at his feet and he had shown them no mercy. A shudder went through Logan as he struggled to claw his way out of the madness and lead his charges to safety.

"Come on, sugar. Come back to me."

The soft, Southern drawl was like a lifeline and he grasped it firmly as his mind began to reason again. He looked around at the carnage at his feet and picked a path through the piles of bodies toward the three students. Just as he reached their side, the clicking of guns was heard across the vast foyer. Another group of men stood in and around the front door. An unarmed, bearded man stood at their center.

"How nice to see you again, Wolverine. Did you miss me?"

A low hum was heard as metal plates shot down from above, sealing off windows and doors. Most of the men, including Stryker, jumped back to avoid being crushed. The few who were trapped inside immediately dove for cover, firing off rounds even as deadly shards of ice whistled over their heads.

Logan sensed these soldiers were somehow different from the first ones and shouted as he pushed the three toward the darkness of the hall.

"Go, go, go!"

Bullets spattered the woodwork on the wall beside them and they heard Logan grunt as he took a few of them in the side and back. They ran for the back corridor, heading for the garage.

---

The moment he entered the cell, Charles knew something was wrong. A chill went up his spine before Erik even turned around to show him the damage to his face and neck.

"Erik! What have you done?"

"I had to, Charles. I had no choice."

Charles suddenly knew it was a trap and began to see the layers upon layers of deceit evident in his friend’s mind. He could mentally hear the answer even as his mouth formed the question.

"What did you tell them?"

"Everything."

They looked at each other for a moment as Charles projected a single harsh thought into the mind of his former colleague. (The Erik I knew would have willingly died rather than give up his own kind to these humans.)

Gas began seeping in through the air vents, filling the room with an acrid smell as Magneto smiled sadly. "Then you should have killed me when you had the chance."

Charles wheeled around and slapped his palm sharply against the cruel plastic that separated him from his children and family and sent a mental warning to Scott before the world faded into blackness.

---

Racing to the garage, Logan brought up the rear, offering protection for their retreat. They had to get out before more reinforcements arrived but more bullets were pelting him and he couldn’t afford to play hero, not when he had to get them out of there. He whistled to Bobby who threw up a thick ice wall behind them. Logan then took point. They came to the side door and Logan slammed his shoulder against it, taking it off its hinges with his weight and desperation. Scott’s car was the first thing he saw. Quickly he pulled the others into the garage and checked the hall behind them. No movement yet.

He motioned them toward his target and opened the door on the driver side, shoving Bobby in headfirst. Rogue duplicated his movements on the other side and Pyro ended up in the back with her riding up front. Logan popped one blade and used it to slice open the steering column, hotwiring the vehicle with the speed and skill of a professional. There was an explosion in the hall. Rogue hit the button on the door remote as the engine roared to life. The car protested only a moment then shot forward, barely keeping its roof as they scraped underneath the rising panels of steel. Rogue immediately twisted around and hit the remote again, forcing the door down even as soldiers began to spill into the garage behind them.

The vehicle took down two men in a wide turn. Logan caught the enemy flatfooted as he nose-dived the car down the slope behind the mansion and floored it. They sped recklessly through the woods down a trail he and Scott had cleared for just such a purpose. The headlights showed the blurry outlines of trees that sprang up and appeared to leap out of the way. Rogue clutched the dashboard, confident of Logan’s abilities, but scared nonetheless.

When they came to the road a half a mile away, he stopped the car as Rogue pulled the door latch. Leaping out, she scrambled to reach the closest tree and hit the detonator hidden there. As she slammed the car door shut again, the woods behind them erupted with explosions and screams. Tires squealed as they caught on the asphalt of Bear Mountain State Parkway. They watched emergency vehicles pass them, sirens and lights going full tilt. At least they were ahead of the game for now.

---

Scott saw his mentor strike the plastic wall and felt the shock of a mental warning course through his brain. A small, sharp pain hit him in the back of the neck and Scott spun and fired his visor almost without thinking. He only had time to register the fact that the woman he hit was Asian and was holding some sort of weapon. She was slammed back against the wall by the concussive force of his shot. Another movement registered in his peripheral vision and he let out another blast, this time taking out the guard at the control panel. The guard nearest to him seemed to be coming at him with a baton. Scott disarmed him even as the world started to slide sideways. He had been drugged. Desperately he fired another beam at an oncoming figure not even realizing it was the woman again. He missed. Something heavy landed on his chest and he felt his breath leave his body as everything tilted backward and spiraled into oblivion.

Panting heavily, the Asian woman rolled off of her quarry and stood. That was close. The dart should have taken him down instantly. She flipped her cell phone open and punched a button.

"Me. Two down, no problems."

Deathstrike closed the connection and studied the man at her feet. He had been faster than she thought he would be. She kicked him hard in the groin.

"Damn mutant."
------

(Chapter 11)

Now that she had managed to sleep for a few hours, Fuerte felt much better. The problem was her internal clock was screwed up. It was three o’clock in the morning and she was up and dressed and checking out of the hotel. Yawning, the desk clerk had pointed her in the direction of an all-night pancake house where she could grab some breakfast before heading back to Arizona.

The menu of the place did not look that promising, as there were no taquitos in sight. She sighed and ordered a cinnamon roll and a cup of black coffee from the older man who had led her to a booth near the TV. The local news was on and she noticed what looked like a live report of a residential fire.

"Can you turn that up, please?"

The man shrugged and turned up the volume before leaving to get the coffee.

"…As I said before, Mike, when authorities arrived, the woods at the back of the property were already ablaze. According to the 9-1-1 report, a young woman, who was alone at the school at the time, smelled gas and reported an intruder on the grounds. Emergency vehicles were delayed when she was cut off before giving a specific address. We can only speculate at this point that a gas line may have been deliberately ignited. There are no signs yet of the unfortunate young woman who made the emergency call. Heavy steel panels blocking the door and window openings have thwarted rescue efforts.

"Interestingly enough, a military unit responded to the police broadcast. It seems they have equipment that can help gain access to the interior and are aiding in the effort to find the woman."

Fuerte gasped. Behind the reporter, lit by flames, were four vehicles that looked like some of the ones she had been following. Coincidences were one thing. Unexpected military assistance was another. She turned to the waiter as he started to bring her coffee and roll.

"Where is this school?"

He looked up at the TV. "I think it’s the gifted school down the road…"

"Great! Pack up that roll and coffee." She shoved a twenty in his shirt pocket and gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek. "Keep this. I’ve got a feeling this could be my lucky day. Where’s your bathroom?"

By the time she had finished with her pit stop, the man had packed her a large paper sack.

"What’s this?" She looked inside and found four cinnamon rolls, several pieces of fruit and two large cups of coffee.

"Well, a twenty for a cinnamon roll and a small coffee seemed a bit much, ma’am." He handed her a map of the area. "Take a right, then a left, then another left and that will get you on the Bear Mountain State Parkway. Turn North. It’s only ten miles down the road." He blushed and held a hand to his face. "It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a pleasant tip."

She grinned and gave him another peck before racing out the door.

---

LeBeau hung on and looked down as they hurtled over the property. There were fires in the back woods, the horses were loose, and the mansion’s windows and doors were sealed. There were flashing red and blue lights everywhere. What caught his attention was the military equipment. He pointed over Guthrie’s shoulder and saw him nod and shift speed. They circled in a slow arc and lowered altitude just enough to catch a glimpse of bodies being loaded into transport trucks, out of sight of the rescue workers at the front of the mansion. Cannonball changed course for the woods to their left and put them down next to their hidden SUV. He sank to his knees after alighting on the ground.

"Homme, you are not well?"

"No, Remy, I’m not. We should have been here." Samuel struck the ground. "I could have done something."

"Cyclops told us the nest might be flown, no? Don’t you think all those bodies were victims of our teacher’s blades? If they had captured anyone, they would not be combing through the wreckage. They would tell the world they had caught mutants who had attacked the President."

Samuel raised his head and Remy saw his tears of frustration. His jaw was set, though, and Remy had an impulse to feel some fear for the persons who had done this. Samuel was in the mood for revenge, as was he.

"My Ma and Pa raised me to be true to my family and protect them from those who would do them harm. After they died, I had no home until the Professor took me in. I intend to take an eye for an eye, Gambit. They attacked my new family and I think they need to pay. Are you with me?"

"I am, mon ami, but we need the heart of a lion and the brains of a thief for this. You are the lion and I am the thief. Let me think for a moment."

He gazed at the starry sky above them. It would be light soon and they would be spotted if they stayed where they were. When he had called Cyclops to say they were on their way back, their leader had stressed two things. One, the mansion may not be occupied when they got back, and two, they should not contact anyone by phone incase the call was traced in some way. He knew what Cyclops meant by the mansion being empty. That was code and meant they needed to make it to one of the three safe havens that had been pre-arranged for just such an emergency. He wanted information first, though, and he had a good idea where to go. He sighed and nodded to himself. Yes, she would be a good choice. In fact, there was a possibility Logan would have contacted her and left a message.

"We will make our way to one of the three safe havens, Samuel. There we form a plan of attack or rescue. On the way, we will try to pick up some money, information, and advice. Let’s go see a friend. We cannot help our family unless we know the whole story."

---

"It’s still a mystery to me how someone could use me like that."

Kurt’s sincere yellow eyes impressed her and Jean found her abilities were telling her he spoke the truth.

"What woke you up? You said you felt pain." Ororo was perfectly at ease with the man also.

"My arm hurt." He took off his coat and rolled up a sleeve. "The guards must have shot me. The priests did what they could."

Jean pulled back the bandaging. "It was a bullet. We need to get you to the jet and treat this."

"This is the only place I know. I don’t want to leave."

Ororo softly interjected. "Kurt, you said you came here as a part of an exchange program from Berlin. Did you ever go anywhere else in the city?"

"Not really. My appearance is scary to some people. The priests here even had a hard time with it at first."

"If that’s true, you must have been kidnapped somewhere around here and that means they may come back." She picked up his coat and handed it to him. "I know you trust the priests, but someone else, a parishioner perhaps, must have turned you in to someone who wanted mutants for testing. We can only help you if you can learn to trust us."

He frowned and studied them both. Then he reluctantly took the coat and put it on.

"Every form of trust, every start of a friendship, is a leap of faith. I will leap, but I will also keep my eyes wide open."

Jean smiled warmly. "We expect nothing less." She turned to Ororo. "I think we should rest in the ‘bird until nightfall, then signal Cyclops and Wolverine we’re moving to the closest safe haven."

"I’m with you on that." Storm looked at her watch and yawned. "It’s so late, it’s early."

---

St. John knocked nervously on the connecting door and waited for the gruff invitation to enter. Almost an hour ago they had awakened the desk clerk and checked in to a cheap motel right off the roadway. It was adjacent to a strip mall that housed a McDonald’s, a gas station, a bus terminal, and a Wal-Mart, among other things. Bobby had joked that it must be the cultural center of this small town. They had only been on the road for a short time when Logan had to stop for gas. They had all seen Logan’s hands shake as he pumped the fuel into the car, all the while cursing Scott for leaving the tank so empty. Rogue had put her foot down and talked him into stopping for food and rest, stating that they had all been up for a very long time and the two or more hours of travel it would take to get to Boston could wait.

He looked around the room that mirrored his and Bobby’s. Logan and Rogue must have already finished their meal from the golden arches, too, for it was nowhere to be seen. He heard the shower. Good, Bobby was in the other shower. That meant that he and Rogue were out of the way for the moment. St. John spotted Rogue’s jacket and promptly sat next to it on the unoccupied bed, surreptitiously searching the pockets for the pill bottle, all the while watching Logan’s prone form on the bed opposite him.

"While Bobby and Rogue are cleaning up, I wanted to tell you something."

There was a non-committal grunt of answer from his teacher. Logan was obviously exhausted. He had showered and dressed, then had sat on the end of the bed and fallen back, letting his booted feet stay on the floor. His eyes were hidden underneath the arm flung across his face.

St. John readied himself for Plan A even as his fingers were preparing Plan B.

"I dropped my cell phone in all the excitement back at the mansion. I didn’t discover it was missing until a few minutes ago. Logan, do you think there’s a chance they could use my phone to trace Raven? I mean, her number is on it. I don’t want people like that to pick her up…" He could not stop the trembling in his voice.

"I killed most of the intruders that made it into the mansion, Pyro. If any stayed, they would have been more interested in getting out and on our trail than picking up your cell phone. It was a raid to catch live mutants, not gather up materials."

St. John coughed to cover the rattle of the pill bottle as he opened and closed it.

"Yeah, but…"

"I know you’re worried about her. Don’t." Logan was firm. "The best thing we can do is regroup and see what’s going on. If anyone needs rescuing, we’ll do it then. You can’t help anyone if you go off half-cocked."

There was silence for a moment.

Pyro gave it one last shot. "I guess you’re right. But what if you thought they had Rogue? Wouldn’t you try to save her?"

Logan sat up on that one and narrowly missed seeing Pyro put the lid back on his drink. He eyed the young man carefully.

"Yes, I would and I can understand how you feel. But a team can do a whole lot better against these people than one man can."

"You took down a lot of those soldiers…" St. John swished the straw a little.

"And we still had to beat a retreat since we didn’t know how many more there were or if we would get another chance to get away." He rifled his fingers through his damp hair. "Allerdyce, no one expects to hit a situation like this. It’s not your fault that the cell phone was left. The chances of them getting your girlfriend are extremely small. Believe me."

"I love her, Logan." His throat tightened. "I don’t want anything bad to happen to her."

"I know."

St. John hung his head, unwilling to do what he thought he had to do but convincing himself that it was the only way. He stood and sighed, holding out the drink in his hand.

"Do you want this? If I drink caffeine now I probably won’t get any sleep."

Logan accepted the cup. "I really shouldn’t sleep. There’s no telling how close they are, if they’re on our tail." He took a sip. "Thanks."

Pyro’s jaw clenched as he watched Logan drink some more.

"Don’t mention it. I only hope someday you’ll understand and forgive me."

Logan’s expression grew puzzled and then relaxed as his eyes rolled back in his head. The cup hit the floor and St. John lunged forward in time to catch his teacher and ease him back on the bed. He picked up the pill bottle from off the other bed and left it on the bedside table near Logan before leaving the hotel room.
------

(Chapter 12)

Remy and Samuel knocked on the door of the little house, expecting to have to wake the occupant up. Instead the door flew open and they were yanked inside.

Amber looked the startled young men up and down as she closed the door. "Thank God some of you made it out." She turned on Samuel. "I never met you. My name’s Amber." She abruptly stuck out a hand and he shook it tentatively.

Remy started to speak. "We met in Canada that time…"

"I remember. You were with Hotshot and Princess. How is she? Where’s Handsome?"

Samuel looked at Remy. "‘Hotshot’, ‘princess’, and ‘handsome’?"

"She means Cyclops, Rogue, and Logan." He turned to Amber. "We just got back in town."

"So we don’t know what happened…" Samuel tried to straighten his shirt where she had pulled it.

"We thought you would be able to tell us." Remy said.

"All I know is what the news said. There was a gas explosion. Horse shit, I saw those military trucks on TV. I called up the local base and they had no clue. Are the children okay? What do we need to do?" She ran her fingers absently through her short-cropped brown hair.

Remy noticed the ‘we’ in her last statement and glanced quickly at Samuel. He did not expect Amber to come with them, but, come to think of it, she could be a lot of help.

"The children are safe, I’m sure. We were going to ask to borrow some money so we could gas up the SUV and drive to the nearest safe haven to rejoin the others."

"You from Louisiana?" Remy nodded. "The Big Easy?" Again he nodded. "All right, Easy, you’ve got a good plan. Use cash, they can’t trace you. Trouble is, I never let my money out of my sight so I guess I’m going with you."

"But," sputtered Samuel.

"Come on, Blue Eyes." The tiny woman grabbed a satchel and a jacket. "Let’s go." She opened the door and strode out into the fading darkness.

"Man, when you said we’d go see a friend I had no idea it’d turn out to be a human tornado." Samuel frowned.

"I heard that," a voice floated in from the porch. "Last one out lock the door. Come on, I need some breakfast. We can stop on the way."

"You don’t know half of what she can do." Remy grinned. "I’m glad she’s on our side."

---

Scott could not move anything but his fingers. The rest of his body must be strapped down to something similar to a dentist’s chair. There was no give in the bonds that held him. Not wanting to open his eyes too soon, he stilled his body and stretched out his senses. Having limited sight made him more aware of what his ears and nose told him than most people. A door opened somewhere behind him and soft footsteps could be heard. There were two of them. Scott mentally braced himself but showed no outward sign of movement other than breathing normally.

"Good morning, Cyclops. Sleep well?" The male voice almost purred, as if pleased to have a new toy to play with.

Scott said nothing.

"Come, come. I’m being civil, which is more than you deserve. Don’t you want to know who I am? Don’t you care about your friend Xavier?"

Training kept Scott’s muscles relaxed so no twitch betrayed him. Again he said nothing.

"I know all about you and that school. Did you know I raided it last night? It’s an amazing place. Too bad I couldn’t stay longer but I had captives to attend to."

Ah, Scott caught a slight change in the voice. He could not turn his head to face the man so he would not open his eyes until he was sure the man was above him.

"Too bad for you it was only the two of us." Scott kept his voice even and relaxed.

"I can remedy that quite easily."

Scott felt something touch his forearm. There was a small pain and then it felt as if fire burned down the length of the vein in his arm and he jerked, trying to tear at it.

"Tut, tut, Cyclops. It’s only a little sodium pentathol. Some people call it a truth serum. I like adding a bonus ingredient so you can feel it speed through your body." There was a pause. "Just how much can you see through that visor, anyway?"

Damn. Scott opened his eyes. Sure enough, the visor was still in place, rendering his only weapon useless. He could see in a reflection of the strange metal lights above him that he was indeed strapped down from head to foot. There was a tray of instruments on a table beside the chair. This did not look good.

"Take it off. I promise to keep my eyes open." His tongue felt a little strange and he wondered what kind of drugs had been given to him.

"I’ll bet." The man leaned over him and Scott saw an older white male with a beard and glasses. "Tell you what, I’ll let you keep it, for now." An extremely cruel smile formed on the man’s face. "Where are the children?"

"I don’t know."

Shock and rage were visible now and the face leaned in closer so that Scott felt the hot breath on his skin. "Why don’t you know?"

"I told Wolverine not to let me know where he sent them. He relayed a new destination to the bus on my orders. I heard him do it." It was his own voice, telling the enemy everything. Scott tried hard to fight the drug but knew it was a losing battle.

Stryker was doing everything he could to keep from strangling the mutant in front of him. "Wolverine takes orders from no one. At least, not willingly," he hissed. "Do you mean to tell me he spoke right in front of you and you have no idea where the little spawn are?" He struck Scott hard across the face.

Scott knew if the man hit him like that again he could knock the visor off and then Scott could take down the enemy with one devastating blow. "He gave the new destination in Russian so I would not understand. He was following my orders just as he followed my orders to defend the mansion until emergency vehicles could arrive and stop your raid on our home."

The hand was poised for another blow when it stopped and slowly, wonderingly began to stroke the man’s beard instead. "He followed your orders?"

He moved away from Scott’s line of vision and Scott felt his skin crawl. More than likely, this was the man who created the Wolverine, the deadly mutant weapon. That damned drug from that military warehouse was evidence that something had gone wrong and the Wolverine would not obey orders. Now Scott had just told this man that the weapon was under his control and would follow his directions. Why couldn’t he hold his tongue? He felt sick to his stomach.

"I suppose I now have a reason not to use you as a lab rat. Tell me, where was the Wolverine supposed to go after leaving the mansion?"

"I don’t know."

"I supposed as much. Too bad I can’t use your friend Xavier as I have you. The last man I sent in to check on him ended up trying to free him. I had to gas the room yet again. He’s a telepath, isn’t he?"

"Yes." Scott was sweating now, straining not to tell him anything else. "He’s a very powerful one."

"What could stop him from using his powers on me?" The face again appeared before the visor.

Scott was trying to bite his tongue but the words slipped out. "Magneto’s helmet."

"You’ve been more than helpful. Enjoy your re-education." He moved out of Scott’s line of sight again and Scott heard the door open. "Chip him and inject him. Set him up for standard docility. I’ll be back shortly."

The chair began to move. Scott was now sitting in a more upright position and could no longer see any reflections to tell him what was going on. He felt something near the top of his head and realized some hair was being shaved off. There was a sharp pain as his scalp was cut. Then he heard the drill.

---

"Going somewhere?" The voice was cold.

St. John whirled around. There stood Rogue and Bobby.

"Ah say we take this outside." The Southern drawl was dripping with fury.

Rogue’s beautiful face was contorted with anger. She could do the math. She had thrown away all their trash after eating. That meant the extra cup Logan drank from had been someone else’s and the pill bottle left in plain sight had told her what had been in the drink.

St. John looked around the empty bus station. "Here’s fine. Say what you have to…"

She let him have it, not caring that the glove on her hand muted the satisfying smack of the well-placed slap on his cheek.

"What were you thinking?" Bobby’s eyes glittered with an icy glare. "What gives? There has to be some rational explanation."

"I lost my cell phone and Raven could be in danger. They might use it to get to her." He spread his hands beseechingly. "I love her. I can’t let anything happen to her."

"How dare you…" began Marie.

"Is there some trouble here?" An official looking man approached the situation.

"No, no trouble as long as this idiot comes outside with us." Bobby spread his fingers in a gesture that was not lost on his teammate. "You’re putting her above the safety of your family."

"I’m not going!" Pyro was backing away from Iceman.

"Damn right you’re not!" spat Rogue.

The man hissed into his radio, "Call in the police. Tell them we have some sort of domestic dispute going on involving three young adults, two white males and one white female. The female’s wearing gloves. They can’t miss ‘em, they’re the only ones in here."

---

They were in the line at the McDonald’s when Amber saw the military trucks rapidly approach the bus terminal behind them in the strip center. She watched in the side mirror as eight men jumped out of the back of one of the trucks and stormed the building.

"Hey, gents. Look behind us."

Remy and Sam turned around in their seats. They saw six soldiers carrying what looked like three people out of the bus station as two more soldiers covered their retreat.

"What could it be?" Remy looked at Amber.

"That one looks a lot like smokey," said Samuel, "and I could swear that’s a girl wearing gloves. Jesus! You don’t think they’ve just been nabbed, do you?"

"Here?" Remy was incredulous.

"Call Princess, Easy." Amber looked at Gambit. "It’s the only way to know."

"But Cyclops said…"

She whipped out her phone. "Then I’ll do it."
------

(Chapter 13)

Shadows hovered around him and whispers grated on his hearing. Logan was walking down a long, dark tunnel. He heard the dripping of water ahead of him and, curious, he followed the sound. He came out in a big, dimly lit room lined on one side with huge generators, their menacing outlines reminding him of monsters ready to spring. The dripping grew louder and he focused on it, moving toward it through the vast space. There was a control panel with lights everywhere. As he reached out to touch it a sharp, ringing laughter filled his ears. He turned and saw a shadow in front of him. The laugh continued and his ears began to hurt with the insistent sound. He growled and felt the skin split on his hands as the blades found their way out. The shadow danced before him, mocking him. Still the laughing continued and Logan thrust both sets of claws into the shadow. Glass splintered and shards went everywhere but the laughter never stopped.

Logan shook his head. A cell phone was ringing and he opened his eyes only to find he had shoved both claws through the mirror in the bathroom. Disoriented, he retracted the blades and crunched through the glass, finding his way back into the bed area of the hotel room. Where was everyone? What was going on? Marie’s cell phone rang again and he took it out of her coat pocket and answered it.

"Yes?"

"Handsome?"

"Amber?"

"Is Princess with you?"

"What?" Confused, he looked around the room and opened the connecting door. "No. No one is. Where are you?" He stepped back into the room and picked up the pill bottle on the bedside table, absently wondering what it was doing there. He shoved it in his pocket.

"We’re in a McDonald’s drive-thru near a bus terminal where we just saw a military truck full of soldiers scoop up three people. One of them had gloves on."

"Shit!" Logan’s adrenaline went into overdrive as he grabbed Marie’s jacket and bolted for the door. "Follow them! I’m right behind you!"

---

She had them now. Four trucks had taken off from that big private school and she was on their tail, carefully and cautiously, but tenaciously nonetheless. She picked up her cell phone to call the lieutenant, but threw it down when the trucks ahead turned sharply and headed in a new direction. Her instincts on edge, she used every trick she knew of to remain with them but stay unseen.

Two of the trucks stopped and she did, too. The others proceeded into a small town at a rapid speed. Something was up and out came the binoculars. She watched them turn the trucks around and she did the same thing, anticipating that they were going to make a hasty retreat from the town. Were they kidnapping more people? She shook her head and concentrated on following. Answers would come later.

Sure enough, here came the two trucks that had entered the town. The other two waited until the first two were well down the road before they followed. As the last two passed her position, Fuerte shrank down into the seat. As soon as they were far enough ahead, she floored it and went after them, not seeing the black SUV coming up rapidly behind her. It swerved around her car. Up ahead was a bridge and she wondered if the SUV was stupid enough to try to pass the military trucks on that narrow structure. To her surprise, the SUV almost plowed into the back of one of the military trucks, honking frantically. Canvas whipped up and the soldiers in the back of the transport aimed their weapons at the careening vehicle.

"Oh my God!" Fuerte hit the gas as hard as she could.

The trucks came to the bridge and squealed to a stop, blocking the path of the SUV. The SUV skidded to a halt sideways and the occupants bailed out on the side away from the soldiers just as the military personnel opened fire, ripping holes in the black vehicle.

As if in slow motion, Fuerte watched in horror as the two young men pulled a woman away from the gunfire. One of the men appeared to be flinging small objects behind him. She was almost to the point where she could help them, when small explosions ripped apart the back of one of the military transports and soldiers began flying everywhere. Surprised, she nearly plowed into the three as her foot slipped on the brake. Fuerte flung open the passenger door of the car and yelled at them.

"Get in!"

The woman complied, running around and crawling inside as Fuerte threw her door open and drew down on the trucks.

"Federal officer! Cease fire!" A hail of bullets answered her challenge, one cracking her windshield, and she ducked behind the door. The two men hit the pavement.

Up from behind came a speeding blue blur. Its engine roared as the vehicle wove around the SUV and headed straight for the men who had exited the troop transports. Bodies went flying everywhere and the driver of the blue car exploded out of the vehicle and right into the fray. Men were yelling and bullets were going in all directions. The SUV blocked most of her vision and Fuerte could not get a shot off in the ensuing melee. Finally it was over and only one man was left standing. Breathing hard and covered with blood he jumped into the trucks and ripped them apart fruitlessly. He shook his head in disbelief and walked over to the two young men as they got up.

"Are you two okay? Where’s Amber? Where are the others?"

"I’m here." Fuerte looked over. The older woman had sat up in the front seat. "I know they were in there. I saw those soldiers kidnap them. I swear I…"

"There were four trucks." Fuerte’s words cut through the conversation and they all looked at her. "These two were meant to keep you busy while the other two rejoined the convoy."

The bloody man cocked his head and looked back at the trucks quickly. "Run! They’re going to blow the trucks! Get that car back!"

Fuerte dove in and threw the car in reverse, taking the woman with her as she backed down the highway. The three men were trying to keep up. One of them grabbed the other two and became a blur as they passed her. She met up with them several hundred feet away from the bridge. They were just in time. The trucks exploded, taking the car and the SUV with them in the ensuing fireball. Fuerte was beyond comprehension as she stared at the debris that rained down in front of her. Those soldiers were willing to blow up their vehicles rather than be captured? What on earth had she gotten herself into? Slowly she exited the car and walked toward the three men, her gun still clutched absently in her left hand.

One of the young men was shaking. "I killed two men," he said dully.

The bloody man put a hand up and gripped the other’s shoulder, waiting for their eyes to meet before he spoke.

"And I just killed eighteen. Believe me, Gambit, it doesn’t get easier. It’s not supposed to. Don’t go to pieces on me, I need you. We’ve got to get them back. Then we can deal with this."

Logan’s voice had broken slightly at the thought of Marie in the hands of men like that. His head turned and he watched the unknown woman approach. She did not seem to be a threat, despite the gun she carried.

He let go of Gambit and caught Samuel’s attention. "Can you clear it?"

Samuel saw the desperation in his teacher’s eyes but shook his head. "Yeah, but the bridge is badly damaged and it may not hold any traffic. We probably should leave it so no one has an accident."

Logan nodded and looked up at the sky. "No reconnaissance, not at this time of day. Some one will spot you. We need to get out of here." She stopped beside him and he gazed into the puzzled face of Fuerte. "Are you okay? We aren’t going to hurt you. You don’t need the gun."

Startled, she looked down and saw the firearm. Her eyes were calmer when she gazed at him again.

"I’ll be okay. I’ve never seen such…How did you survive that fight? How did you three speed past my car? How did that man throw explosives? Who are you people? I need to know what’s going on."

"It’ll have to be quick." He pointed to Remy’s watch. "Signal the ‘bird. Jean’ll find us when it’s dark." He looked back. "We’ve got to get out of here before the police arrive and I have a good idea where to go. Your car is the only one that can drive. Either we take it or you can come with us. Your pick."

Fuerte started to get angry. "That’s my car and nobody’s…Wait. They kidnapped more people, didn’t they?" Slightly taken aback, Logan nodded. "Then we have to save them. All of them." She tossed him the keys. "You can drive, but I’m riding shotgun. And mister?" She held the gun up. "You’d better be on the up and up."

He nodded grimly. "Unfortunately, we are."

---

Surprise, surprise, Senator Kelly’s a cross dresser. At least, Mystique had made it seem so. The two guards inside the residence fell for it, stunned too badly to react when she slit their throats. She had duplicated one of them in order to take down the two outside, keeping his form as she drove away in the jeep so the media hounds down the drive would not interfere with her getaway. Now Mystique was headed to the prison. Magneto had said to wait for orders, but he was long overdue in getting back to her. That meant trouble and she wanted to make sure he was all right.

---

Charles felt like his head was inside a ringing bell. He opened his eyes and realized that’s exactly what it was. The hand mirror in front of him showed that he was wearing Magneto’s helmet, effectively rendering him harmless.

Stryker placed the mirror in his lap and surveyed the man in the wheelchair opposite him. Just for fun, he slapped the stupid metal helmet one more time, just to watch the mutant’s eyes wince at the sound that echoed inside it.

"You know, I really hate telepaths. Evil, slimy little mutants that can crawl in your brain and take away your free will are not my idea of useful living tissue. I can think of better things to do with you than this. Tell me, if I broke your legs, would you feel it?"

"Probably, as I am not truly paralyzed." countered Xavier. "But I expect you’ll try to find more interesting ways of amusing yourself than that."

"I expect so. Where are the children?" Stryker smacked the helmet loudly, enjoying the reaction.

"I don’t know."

Wham. "Wrong answer, cripple. Try again."

"I really don’t know. Wolverine did not tell Cyclops where he sent them."

Stryker frowned. "And you can’t read Wolverine’s mind?"

"His is one I cannot reliably read, no."

"And you’re supposed to be so powerful. Even I could have told you he’s a hard read." Stryker hit the helmet hard enough that Charles began to fear for his hearing. "Damn him, he’s always been too smart for his own good."

Xavier watched as the angry human rose from the chair and turned away from him. Could this be the man who created the Wolverine? He had to do something, anything, to keep this man away from his family, but what?

He looked down at the tight cords that threatened to cut off the circulation to his hands. They didn’t know it was far crueler to shut off his mutation. For the first time in years, there was silence in his head and it scared Charles. He felt cut off, lonely, and out of control. How could he deal with this situation if he had to rely solely on his better judgement and not read what was in the mind of the madman in front of him? Was this what Scott faced every day?

Stryker turned and shoved the wooden chair to the far wall as he advanced on the wheelchair. "How does it feel? Shall I keep you this way? Believe me when I say that it is tremendously fun to watch a telepath go mad. I would be willing to let you go if…"

There was a sharp rap at the door. Stryker strode over and jerked it open. A whispered conversation ensued that Charles could not catch and he jerked and shook his head in an effort to dislodge Magneto’s uncomfortable headpiece. There must be a strap under his chin keeping it on his head, he reasoned and ceased his struggle. He watched the man stride back toward him, arrogance and confidence oozing out of every pore. It made Charles sick.

"I suppose I’ll be leaving you. Don’t worry, you’ll be loaded and taken to my new headquarters shortly. Consider yourself renamed, mutant. To me you will be 176, since I never waste a codename on a mere telepath. Codenames are reserved for weapons. I don’t believe I’ll change Cyclops’ name as it suits him, don’t you think? He’s adapting well to a new ‘outlook’ on life. Lots of talent there, yes, lots of talent. Speaking of which, I’m going to check on some new acquisitions, 176. I will enjoy training and modifying them, too. After all they come from a good school, as you should know." He turned on his heel and left, turning the lights off to leave Xavier in darkness.

Charles closed his eyes and let the tears fall.
------

(Chpater 14)

"Hey."

Logan flicked his eyes toward the passenger seat. "What?"

"One, I need to call you something other than ‘hey’, two, you were supposed to give me an explanation, and three, I’d like to know where we’re going." Fuerte still had the gun out but it was resting in her lap.

"I’m Amber. This here’s Easy and Blue Eyes." Amber pointed to the young men she was sandwiched between in the back seat. "Handsome is the one driving. Is it true you’re a federal officer of some sort?"

"Yes. I’m a Sergeant with the Border Patrol, assigned to Arizona." Fuerte then muttered softly, "Assuming I can get my job back after this."

Logan grunted. "You followed that convoy all the way from Arizona?"

"It’s a long story," Fuerte began.

"I, for one, would like to know who is telling it," drawled a Cajun accent.

"My name is Fuerte, Flora Fuerte. And you’re ‘Easy’?"

"Yeah, but he’s not cheap," said Samuel. "Actually, I’m Cannonball, he’s Gambit, and that’s Wolverine."

"I think I liked Easy, Blue Eyes, and Handsome better. What’s with the names?" Fuerte’s brow furrowed. "Are they code names? Are you with the government or something?"

"They’re mutants," offered Amber.

"What?" Flora was stunned, then remembered the blue man. Maybe this was the break she was looking for.

"Thanks, Amber." Logan glared darkly at her in the rear-view mirror.

"Hey, I’m just trying to help. You guys are going to have to trust someone and she did draw down on those goons back there." Amber continued her lecture. "Shoot, if what they said on the news is right, there’s a pile of trouble coming our way. The more people we got who can handle shovels, the better. How about we trade information? You ask one question, Handsome, then let Chiquita ask one. Sound fair?"

Fuerte cocked an eyebrow. "Chiquita?"

The three men in the car rolled their eyes.

"Don’t ask," offered Logan, "just go along with it."

---

"I’m taking Cyclops and Deathstrike with me to Alkali," continued Stryker as he strode down the hall with one of his men in tow. "I want those children from that school. Go back into that old mutant’s cell and see if he knows anything else. He’s talked once already and would be easier to break than the telepath. By the way, wrap up that telepath and send him in a truck to Alkali as soon as you can. Ignore anything he says and don’t take that helmet off of him. Gag him if he gets annoying, but get him to Alkali, got it?"

"Yes, sir. Sir, the technicians say that Cyclops took out the metal detector when he blasted the guard. They’re not letting anyone in the cell for fear of letting any metal get in there with him."

"You and I went in there, Sanger, and nothing happened, despite the metal screws in my glasses and the fillings in your teeth," Stryker said bitingly. "I don’t think he’s as dangerous as they claim. Force your way in like we did the other day. Do whatever it takes, just browbeat that mutant into giving you the information I need."

"But…"

"No buts, Sanger." Stryker frowned and stopped at the foot of the stairs to the roof helipad, rounding on his subordinate. "I intend to wrap this whole operation up in one neat package. This is a loose thread I need you to deal with. I’ll handle the rest. Don’t screw up or you’ll regret it, immeasurably. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, sir."

---

It had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet. Logan had foregone Boston in favor of driving to the facility where Magneto was housed in an attempt to find Scott and Xavier. When he left to survey the area on foot, he had refused to let anyone in the car join him in his mission, claiming that there was no need to put all of them at risk.

Sure enough, at nightfall, Jean and Storm landed the Blackbird in the undeveloped woods a mile away from the isolated building as Wolverine had predicted they would. Fuerte was extremely impressed with what she could see of the plane, even though the darkness hid most of the details from her sight. When two women exited down the ramp, she noticed the young men eagerly ran up to hug them. It was a quiet reunion, with tears and whispers and it dawned on her that she was watching a family that had been torn apart. That school had been their home and now they had no place to go and, due to the attack on the White House, no one to turn to. Gambit and Cannonball introduced her to Storm and Jean. They also introduced Amber to them, which surprised her as Fuerte thought she was already friends with all of them.

When Nightcrawler finally came out of the jet, Fuerte instinctively drew down on him, shocked to find him here. After they explained to her what had happened, she began to understand the whole picture; it was a set up and her instincts on the bearded man were right on the money. Fuerte quietly told them all that she knew and showed them the images on her binoculars. She watched as the blue man’s eyes began to fill with tears and he walked away. She could not imagine what it had been like to be used and abused in such a manner. In the drive over she had begun to see what kind of people she was dealing with and it shocked her to find that the media had offered such a lopsided view of what mutants were like. These were real people with real hearts and feelings.

"I tried to pick up tracer signals, but no one was wearing their watches except you two. Why?" Jean had been frustrated in her attempts to communicate with someone, anyone, who could let her know what was happening.

"Log…er, Wolverine told us that they took them off in case they were captured. Cyclops found that if you rewire the transmitters, you could use two or more of the watches as trackers to determine the position of the jet. They didn’t want to put you two at risk," answered Samuel. "I’m sorry we didn’t think to push the button sooner, but we thought everyone would be at one of the safe havens and we could just meet you there."

"If they really do have the Professor and Cyclops, we cannot go to the safe havens. The military might have extracted information from them and it would be too risky to go to a place they knew about." Ororo hated to say it, but felt the subject needed to be broached. "I’m sorry, Jean. If they haven’t communicated with us by now, they’ve probably been taken."

Jean nodded and turned her head away as she bit her lip. It was not what she wanted to hear, but it was the truth nonetheless.

"I don’t believe we’re dealing with all of the military," said Fuerte slowly. "I think this unit is so undercover, not many people know about it. I’m wondering if someone shouldn’t be told."

"Amen. I think we should blow the lid off of this and let the stench out," agreed Amber.

"We are mutants, Amber. Who will trust what we say?" countered Remy, then he sighed. "Oui, maybe people need to know, since these soldat are taking humans, right Chiquita?"

Fuerte smiled grimly at the new nickname. "They’ve been taking illegal aliens, people no one cares about. You have unwanted people on one side and dangerous mutants on the other. The media would have a field day and no one would care. I think we need to think about nation security, though. If the bearded man has made one attempt on the life of the President, he may try again."

"But it was only a trick to get people against us," Samuel blurted.

Jean gave Fuerte a sharp glance. "You think he wants an all out war between mutants and humans."

"Yes, I do." Fuerte held her chin up. "What kind of martyr would a president make, I wonder?" She stared at Jean. "What kind of response from the public would you get then? My question is, what would he gain from it?"

"Maybe if we knew who he is we would know what he wants," said Ororo.

Jean turned and peered into the trees around them. "Maybe the answer’s on the way."

"Storm, Jean, glad you’re okay." Logan appeared silently through the brush.

To their amazement, he was carrying an unconscious Mystique over his shoulder.

"What the hell…?" Ororo spat. "I don’t want her anywhere near me."

"Who is she?" whispered Fuerte to Amber.

"No clue," came the reply.

Gambit leaned over as Jean, Storm, and Logan began to argue. "That’s Mystique. She’s one of the bad guys. She would kill you two in a heartbeat simply because you’re human. I guess she came here to break out her boss."

"Who’s her boss?" Amber and Fuerte asked simultaneously.

"Magneto." Samuel frowned. "I’ve never fought against him, but those three have. He was the one who put a device on top of the Statue of Liberty a few years ago. He was trying to change the world leaders into mutants. The problem was, it would have killed them so the X-Men took him out and he was put in that prison over there."

"Who are the X-Men?" Fuerte had heard about the Statue of Liberty incident, but that wasn’t the story she had been told. "It was leaked to police agencies that terrorists tried to use a biological weapon to kill the national leaders and that the military stopped it."

Gambit snorted. "I’m not surprised. We are the X-Men, chere. We are the good guys."

"Magneto was the only one who could have set up Cyclops and Chuck." Logan forced his point across, not bothering to hide his anger. "If anyone knows what’s going on and who we’re up against it’s him or Mystique and I’m not about to break that bastard out of there just to have a chat."

"She’ll never help us," Ororo countered. "What’s in it for her?"

"More than you know." Logan’s eyes glittered strangely. "She’ll help, trust me. Let’s get in the air and track that convoy."

"What about Cyclops and the Professor?" Jean became desperate. "We’ve got to get them out of there."

"I don’t think they’re in there now. The car’s there but the scents around it are old. I watched a helicopter take off just now and a truck’s being loaded with equipment. It looks like they’re through with this place. Either we track the helicopter or the convoy. Whatever we do we need to do it now or we’ll lose them."

Fuerte spoke up. "They said the name of the place where they’re going. I overheard it on one of their radios, but I couldn’t find it on a map anywhere. It was a chemical name, like a salt of some kind."

"Alkali." Logan said the name through gritted teeth. "They’re going to Alkali Lake."

"That’s it. That’s the name. How did you know?"

"If that’s where they’re going, I know who we’re up against. It looks like Cyclops was right; Stryker is in the picture and they hunted up Graves’ back trail and found us. We’ve got to get them out of his hands before Stryker starts to work on them."

Jean paled and all the others looked shocked. Fuerte and Amber were the only ones who didn’t have a clue.

"I don’t get it, Handsome. Who’s Stryker?"

Snikt. "He’s one of the ones who did this to me, Amber. Take a good look Fuerte. He’s in the business of making killing machines out of mutants."

Fuerte stared at the frightening sight of Wolverine’s fist where three wicked blades protruded and gleamed in the moonlight.

"Shit," was all she could say.
------

(Chapter 15)

Sanger shook himself as he strode down the plastic runway. That one guard had simply walked out, saying something about saving his skin. The other had shrugged and said he didn’t see what it would hurt since Sanger had been in there before. Which one was right he wondered? He rolled his shoulders back and presented a confident front. It would not do to let the prisoner see any weakness.

Magneto turned his head as Sanger entered the chamber. Curious, he rose from a reclined position and sat on the edge of the bed. A delighted little smile played around his mouth as he spoke.

"You really shouldn’t have come back but I’m so glad you did. You see, the first time I needed you alive. Now, I don’t."

"Shut up, mutant. I want information from you, not smart remarks." Sanger readied himself for another session of delivering punishment.

"You contradict yourself. First you tell me to ‘shut up’ then you say you need information. I tell you what, human, I’ll give you just what you deserve for the way you treated me. You really should have been kinder to your teeth when you were younger. But then, if you had, I wouldn’t be able to do this."

Sanger’s head began to move of it’s own accord, slowly at first and then it twisted sharply, breaking his neck. Magneto held out his hand and the metal that had been embedded in Sanger’s teeth burst out of the dead man’s mouth and dropped into the mutant’s palm where it was lovingly cradled. Sanger’s body dropped to the floor.

"Payback can be so gratifying," said Magneto as the fillings formed into three small projectiles that began to rifle through the air, tearing the cell door apart. "It would seem my stay is over. Goodbye prison, hello world."

---

The school was beautiful. All the children seemed to be playing and doing their lessons, running back and forth as they tidied up the mansion. Scott gazed around the library and saw Jean and the Professor. Jean looked incredible, as usual, and he wondered again just what she saw in him. He grinned. Whatever it was he hoped she kept seeing it. He sighed, too distracted by her beauty to truly listen to what they were talking about.

"I don’t like him staring at me like that." Lady Deathstrike curled her upper lip in disgust as Cyclops smiled at her. "I can’t see his eyes. Is he sick or what?"

"I gave him the suggestion that we are at his school. He must think you’re his wife or girlfriend." Stryker lifted the remote in his hand. "So far there’ve been no problems. They seem to have put enough of 142’s fluid in his brain. Let’s see how well he responds to something more stimulating." He pushed the button on the remote and Scott’s head jerked slightly as the chip inside it resonated to the correct frequency. "Cyclops, the mansion may come under attack. Who would attack it?"

"Is it Mystique again, Professor?" Cyclops sounded hesitant.

"Yes, yes, it is Mystique. What should we do?"

"Wolverine can smell her no matter what form she takes. We should send him out on the grounds to find her. You can sense her, too, can’t you?"

Lady Deathstrike had stiffened at the mention of Wolverine’s name. She glared at the mutant even more.

"Interesting," Stryker raised an eyebrow at Lady D. "Mystique must be a metamorphic. Yes, Cyclops," he said to Scott, "I’ll help find her, but Wolverine is missing. We need to look for him."

"Try the woods."

Stryker smiled. "Yes, of course. Stand right here and think of the beautiful school we must protect. All those children who need you to guard them, let’s not forget them, shall we?"

"I’ll protect them," said Cyclops and he swayed slightly as he was hit with yet another impulse from the remote in Stryker’s hand. "I’ll do my best."

"That’s all I ask." He turned to the woman beside him, "Yuriko, he’s right about the woods. If we can lure Wolverine here with those three we captured…"

"You never told me you were on the trail of Wolverine. I’ll find him." She cracked her fingers. "He’s mine. I’ve paid dearly for the privilege."

Stryker frowned. "Of course my dear, I had…forgotten. You will have him when the time comes."

"It’ll certainly make up for all the years I’ve had to deal with you." She strode for the door. "I’ll search the woods."

"Wait, Yuriko. Will you help me put this one into a cell first? I would feel safer if you took charge of it."

She grimaced but took hold of Scott’s arm and began to lead him away.

Miller entered the room and Stryker quickly waved at him to be silent. Only when Deathstrike was clear of the room and heading for the basement, did he turn to the sergeant.

"Miller, we have a problem. I forgot about Deathstrike’s little vendetta against Wolverine. I’m afraid she’s become a liability I cannot afford to have around."

Miller was stunned. "You want me to take her out? Her? Sir, I don’t think…"

"Relax, Miller. We’ll let the Wolverine handle her. But just to make sure, here’s what I want you to do…"

---

"Scram, she’s waking up."

"But I’ve never met someone who has blue skin like I do. Do you think we are related?"

Logan glared at Kurt. "I hope not. Get going."

Shrugging, Kurt teleported to the front of the jet as Logan settled himself into position. Sure enough, Mystique moaned and started to come to. She flicked her eyes open and tried to adjust them to her surroundings. The straps of the medical cot held her fast and her heart began to speed up when she realized who was seated next to her.

"Tell me, will it be quick and easy or slow and painful?" She drawled the words lazily but Mystique’s mouth was dry as she tried to get a handle on her emotions.

"Neither." It wasn’t quite a growl but it wasn’t human either.

"Why, because you’ve gone soft?"

She heard a low metallic click, as if something had locked into place. Warm metal caressed her throat and her eyes closed as she tried to swallow. She knew that metal well; it had almost killed her once.

"Because he loves you."

Her eyes flew open and her heartbeat and scent in the next few seconds told him volumes. He had guessed correctly. She might have started off using Pyro for information, but had ended up feeling something for the young man.

"And?" she spat.

"And you love him, too."

"I care about one person, dickhead, and that’s me."

"Then he’s as good as dead."

She closed her eyes. Damn. St. John must have been caught in Stryker’s raid. She had been unable to get to a phone due to those military idiots and had trusted that fate and the X-Men would be on her lover’s side. She cursed herself for falling for a lovesick teenager in the first place. Feelings were for fools and men were plentiful. So how come she was trembling?

She began to see a way out of this. Magneto had wanted to set up a common enemy so they could work with the X-Men. Once a part of them, they could defeat Stryker and destroy Xavier’s little gang from within. Magneto had said that Wolverine was the key to his plan. Here was her chance to work with him. She could pretend it was to save what’s his name’s life. It could work.

"Damn you, when he’s safe, I’m going to kill you." Mystique snapped as she opened her eyes. "You let them get him."

"I’m already damned and get in line," Logan replied dryly as he registered her self-deception. "Now, what do you know about Stryker’s plans?"

---

"How long before we reach D.C.?"

"About an hour or so. Relax, Chiquita, we’ll get there. I’ll make sure of it." Amber looked out the car window.

Fuerte glanced over at the older woman. "I can’t believe they sent you with me as an escort."

Amber grinned. "It wouldn’t be the first time I was used as an ‘escort’. Besides, they needed everybody else to try and rescue their friends. Stryker sounds like pure poison to me. Imagine experimenting on other people."

"I guess that’s why he needed illegal aliens. I still wonder what’s to be gained by all this. Why would he want to kill the president?"

Amber snorted. "Power. He seems to be some sort of control freak. If he could have free reign to take out mutants, he’d get to lock ‘em up and play with them all he wanted."

Fuerte shivered. "Did you see those knives in Wolverine’s hand?"

"Yes, I did. They’re in both his hands and I’ve seen ‘em in action, too. He can gut a man faster that you can draw a pistol. He wasn’t lying, those bastards gave ‘em to him so he could kill." Amber looked over at Fuerte. "They used some sort of drug on him to make him do what they wanted. He found out about it and hired me to kill him so he couldn’t be used to hurt his friends."

"He what?" The car swerved a little.

"You just concentrate on your driving and I’ll tell you how I met up with these people. That’ll pass the time until we get to D.C. I used to work there, you know. It’s an interesting place. You get all kinds there. Are you planning on going straight to the Secret Service with this?"

Fuerte hesitated, unsure now of her passenger. "Got any better ideas?"

"Not now, but I’m thinking on it. Okay, here’s your story. I first met Handsome when he knocked on my door one day and asked me how to make love to a woman…"

The car swerved again.
------

(Chapter 16)

The truck slowed and came to a halt. Charles tried to stop shaking but the refrigerated tractor-trailer had been set too low, intentionally. They had laughed; telling him they wanted to keep him comfortable on his journey and he learned the cruelty of the master was evident in the men that followed him. There had to be a way to get his hands free so he could get this damned helmet off. He looked around at all the equipment. None of it could help him for it had all been put just out of his reach. It sounded as if there were shouts and muffled explosions outside and Charles was beginning to wonder if his ears had indeed been damaged when the back doors of the rig were torn off their hinges.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here. Good evening, Charles, how are you? Having fun with your pet humans?"

Charles shook his head, trying to spit out the gag.

"In all honesty, I did not expect to see you here. I was simply after my helmet. I see now they put it to good use." Magneto had alighted on the floor of the trailer and calmly walked around a crate to get to his old friend. "Tell me, Charles, how do you like silence?"

Xavier coughed out the wadding as Erik undid the cord holding it in his mouth. "We have to save them, Erik."

"I should leave you like this. Do you think I don’t know who financed that prison? Hiding behind Green’s name was so transparent, my old friend. I knew you had that place built. How else could they know enough about me to keep me locked up?"

"I couldn’t have just anyone keep you. I had to make sure you were safe even as I tried to make sure the world was safe from you."

"Pah, you would have let me rot in there for the rest of my life. Now that I’m here and you’re in trouble, you plead with me to save your precious children. Really, Charles, have you no dignity?"

"Not when it comes to them. Please, for old times’ sake, help me."

Magneto scowled. "I will help you, for the sake of mutants. You yourself deserve nothing." He undid a strap under Charles’ chin and placed he hands on either side of the helmet. "No tricks, now."

"None, I promise. As long as you keep it off of your own head, that is," Charles added as he watched his former colleague carefully. "I’m not sure I can trust you after what you did."

"I told you I had no choice. It was your own fault they used me. I maintain you should have killed me when you had the chance. But then, you always were afraid of making sacrifices." He removed the helmet.

Charles immediately felt his head fill with the thoughts of those beings within in his mental range and he breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up at Magneto.

"Erik, we need to get to the mansion, We need to find out where they are so we can assist them."

"Very well." The trailer shook under them as it rose into the dark night sky. "I suppose you want me to untie you, too."

"Please."

---

Bobby was groggy. He felt very strange and saw spinning stripes everywhere. He shook his head and discovered that the stripes were bars. He was in a cage of some sort. Desperate, he stood and tried to see where he was and what was going on, but his footing was unsteady and he fell to the floor.

"You’re awake, good. Now we can question you."

He looked up and saw a rather large man standing at the bars. He tried to focus on what the man was wearing. Fatigues…of course. The last thing he remembered had been the men in fatigues bursting into the bus station. There had been a pain in his arm and then…nothing. Where were St. John and Rogue?

He watched from his seated position as two men opened the adjoining cell. Two more men were carrying something on a stretcher and they dumped the contents on the other cell’s cot. It was Pyro. There was a small bandage on his scalp and bandages on one arm and hand. Bobby looked blearily up at the big man.

"What did you do to him?"

"Nothing much, just some tissue samples. We chipped him for activation later." The man grinned. "Don’t worry, you’re next."

"Chipped?" Bobby was trying hard to grasp the situation.

"If you must know, we drill a hole in your skull and insert a microchip. Then we flood your brain with a fluid we drain from another mutant. He was able to manipulate people’s thoughts, make them see things that weren’t there. We found if we inserted his fluid into a mutant’s brain and stimulated an electrical pulse from the chip, we could make the mutant do what we wanted him to, see what we wanted him to see."

Bobby blinked. The man in front of the bars had changed. He was now shorter and had a beard and glasses. He also seemed much older.

"Why are you doing this? Why tell me?"

"I enjoy my work, what can I say? As for telling you my secrets, consider it a perc of the job. You won’t remember anything I’ve said to you after we complete the procedure, if that’s any consolation. If you don’t believe me, take a good look at your leader."

He pointed down the corridor and Bobby could just make out Scott, sitting on the edge of a cot, still as a statue.

"Cyclops!" Bobby shouted.

There was no response.

"He only sees or hears what I want him to. That makes me leader now." Stryker grinned. "All right, let’s take him in next. The female can wait, she’s still unconscious."

She? He meant Rogue. Bobby knew he had to protect his teammates, but what could he do by himself?

"What’s your name, mutant?" asked Miller as he and the four other soldiers entered the cell.

"My name?" Bobby suddenly remembered just who he was and what he could do and he began stand. "My name is Iceman and I’ll be damned if I let you get away with this."

Stryker stepped back. The male was changing, hardening into a glistening form. The basement’s temperature began to drop rapidly.

"Stun him!" Miller cried out, but the darts only bounced off the icy surface.

"Too late," came the chilling reply. "I can at least take you down with me."

White crystals began to form everywhere and the men closest to Bobby shrieked in pain as they were enveloped in them. Miller shoved hard backward, knocking Stryker out of the door of the cell before the ice could get him. Unfortunately, Miller was not so lucky and the rock hard substance snatched him before it stopped growing. Where the cell once stood was a huge block of ice, with five men trapped in it along with the mutant who had unleashed it. They were all frozen solid. Stryker moved forward and tapped on the stiff surface. He could just make out Miller’s agonized features.

Stryker struck out in a rage and cut his hand. He watched dispassionately as the blood stopped flowing almost immediately. At least he still had some tricks up his sleeve. He would capture Wolverine, he would use Cyclops, and he would get what he wanted. He would make damn sure of that.

"I need more men," Stryker muttered angrily to himself as he left the basement.

---

They had set up camp in the woods to the north of Alkali Lake, just above the dam. Logan had programmed the jet imaging systems with every thing he could remember about the place. Unfortunately, it was all structural information.

"We need to know where everything is, moron. Not just the walls." Mystique was helping in her own unique way.

"It was abandoned when I went through it. This is all I know." Wolverine was extremely testy and longed to throw the bitch off the jet. He had come up with a plan that would work but, as Mystique pointed out, he had to know where things were inside the complex first.

"Where does the building get its power supply?" asked Ororo.

"The dam," answered Logan absently. "The power is relayed to these generators in this section."

They stared at his finger. He was pointing to a blank wall. Logan frowned and redrew the room. Where there had been an unexplained blank wall next to another blank wall, there were now five generators.

"They hid them. Son of a bitch, they hid them." He started to redraw a lot of the corridors in that section, adding detail that had been missing before.

"That’s more like it," purred Mystique. "We take that off line and they’ll be helpless. What’s over here?"

"I don’t know, I’m losing it." Logan frowned.

How had he come up with this amount of detail, anyway? It was as if he had walked through it in a dream. It had been a dream, he realized and he had a good idea how to get more information. Logan stood suddenly causing all of them to jerk back. Quickly he reached in his pocket and pulled out the little bottle.

"Hold on, I’ll be back in a few minutes." He grabbed a length of heavy cable from the supply cabinet and took a hold of Jean’s arm. "Come on."
------

(Chapter 17)

"You’ve been asleep a long time, girl. Come on, wake up and talk to me."

Marie opened her eyes. "Huh?"

She saw the bars of the cell and sat up, holding her head together so it wouldn’t split in two.

"Where am Ah?" Rogue asked.

"Hell, or at least that’s what I think it is."

Rogue turned her head to the left. The woman who had spoken in the cell next to hers was lying on the floor, near the two sets of bars that separated them. She was older and very thin. One pale hand tried to move some of her blonde hair out of her eyes so she could see better, but the hair was too matted and she gave up.

Marie crawled to the bars and sat against them "What’s your name?"

"I’m…" Giggles began to erupt from the woman and she tried to stifle them. "I’m Ms. Marvel. That’s what they call me. Marvel was my squadron name. My real name is…is…" She frowned. "Did I tell you I was in the Air Force?"

Marie’s expression was full of compassion, but she was nervous nonetheless. The woman was obviously on the edge of sanity. Now she could very well imagine where she was. She remembered the soldiers from the bus station and figured they had been captured. That meant she was in trouble. She looked around again, straining to see if Bobby or St. John was near her.

"Iceman? Pyro? Anybody out there?" Marie turned back to Marvel. "Did you see two young men in here?"

"They were brought in with you. Then they took one away to be fixed. Then they brought him back. Then the other one…" She lapsed into giggles again. "The other one cooled things up, I mean down." She laughed. "He froze some of them. I wish I could do that. I’d have taken Stryker out a long time ago."

Not sure if she was getting the truth, Marie strained her eyes to see further down the dim corridor, but it was no use. If Bobby and St. John were down there she couldn’t’ see them and they weren’t answering her. She decided she needed more information.

"Marvel? You’ve got to stay with me, okay? Ah’m not exactly sure Ah know everything that’s going on. Stryker’s in charge of this? Is he experimenting with mutants?" The woman nodded, her head scraping the floor. "Are you a mutant?"

"Yes. I didn’t find out until I was in my early twenties. What year is this, anyway? Wait, you never said your name. Who are you? Are you a mutant, too?"

It was Marie’s turn to nod. "My name’s Rogue."

"Rogue. I like that. My name’s Carol, Carol Danvers." She looked surprised. "Hey, I remembered. How about that?"

"Yeah, how about that. Maybe we can get you to remember more about this place. You up for it?"

Carol began to giggle. "I could tell you stories that would make your hair turn white. Ha, it’s already started to turn. I’d get up but they’re starving me and I’m getting pretty weak. They want to kill me and that’s about the only way they can do it." An eerie laugh burst from her lips and Marie shrank back. "They want my cage emptied."

"Why?"

She looked at Carol’s cage. It was different than her own, much older and scarred with nicks in the bars. Hers also had metal flooring as well as a metal ceiling of its own. The others cells were simply walls of metal bars bolted to the concrete ceiling and floors.

"My cage is indestructible. I could pull the bars apart of any other cage because I have super strength. I’d pull your bars apart but our cages are too close together. You couldn’t squeeze between them." She blew at her hair and Marie caught a glimpse of pale blue eyes. "They can’t fix me ‘cause they can’t cut my skin. They can’t breed me ‘cause I keep losing the babies. All they can do is torture me." She laughed again. "Now they want the cage back for him. They don’t want me anymore."

"Him? Ah don’t understand. Who are they after?"

"Wolverine."

---

The trailer settled silently in the grass on the back lawn. No one was in sight. They must be guarding it from the front gate, Xavier thought. The back woods were charred with evidence of a bad fire but Charles was happy to note the mansion itself still stood. Metal panels barred access to every window. There was one hole in the back door area, though, and Charles and Erik quietly slipped under the police tape and went inside. Power had been restored and the few lights that were on in the main hall revealed a ghastly sight. The rugs and wooden flooring had been stained with blood and lots of it.

"I seems they put up quite a fight," commented Erik. "I would imagine there weren’t many of Stryker’s men left to prohibit their escape."

Charles grimly wheeled himself to one of the secret elevators and punched in a code. Once down on the lower level, he and Erik entered Cerebro.

"Nice to see you haven’t changed anything. Tell me, does it still give you the same rush when you use it?"

"Really Erik, please be quiet and keep still. We have to find them."

"You can’t deny that you love having this power Charles. Imagine some puny human taking that away from you. It must have been quite annoying."

Xavier ignored him as he slipped Cerebro’s mental amplification array over his head. Within minutes he had found what he was looking for and he removed it. He sat silently for a moment, reflecting on the information he now had. Could he trust Erik? Would his old friend really help him? He sighed for there was no other alternative at the moment.

"They’re at Alkali Lake in Canada," he said without turning around. "I cannot find Cyclops or Pyro, but the rest are there. I will need your help." Charles wheeled the chair around. "We need…" He stopped.

Erik had his helmet on and had moved to the door. "Don’t worry, old friend, I’ll help them. Maybe then they will see who really cares about them. Enjoy your imprisonment as I enjoyed mine."

Erik stepped through the portal and caused the doors to close behind him. Charles watched in utter disbelief as they buckled and contorted, fusing together in an unbreakable bond. Quickly he turned back to the machine but found the array had been crushed. Betrayed yet again, Charles’ fingers flew over the controls, desperately searching for some way to use the machine so he could help his family.

---

"I am asking, no, no I am…begging you to do this for me."

His voice broke whatever resolve she had left. Jean bound Logan’s arms against the tree trunk behind him, making it impossible for him to free himself, even with the claws. The heavy cable bit into his wrists but he never said a word. She picked up the pill bottle and took one of the pills out.

"This really should be dissolved in a liquid."

"Will it work without it?"

"Yes." Jean hesitated, "Look, Logan I don’t…"

"It happened. I can’t explain it. I just know that it might work again. We’ve got to find out more. I’ve got to find out more. Shove it in my mouth, Jean."

"Logan, please. This sounds crazy."

"Shove it in my mouth, Jean." He was speaking through clenched teeth. "For Scott and Rogue’s sake, shove-it-in-my-mouth."

She stood in front of him and tried to fathom what he was thinking but his face was shadowed by the darkness of the night. This had to be a living nightmare. He had let himself be tied down and now he was going to relive going to a place that had torn him apart and made him into a weapon. She watched him open his mouth and she opened the capsule, letting the dust pour down his throat. He tried to swallow and gagged.

"Go!" he choked.

"No, Logan. If you can do this for them, I can at least watch over you." She watched him slam his head against the tree in anger. "I’m not leaving."

Twenty-six minutes later she patted his face. "Logan?"

His eyes were open; in fact they had been for some time. Logan had shot his claws out, as he had told her he would, but he actually had been quite calm. She called his name again and he began to blink.

"Did it work?" She was able to really delve into his mind for once and it scared her a little. He was confused and totally vulnerable.

"What?" He took a minute to focus. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Jean?" The claws retracted.

"Yes. Do you know where you are? Can I undo that cable now?"

He nodded. "I think it worked."

Jean undid the cable and hurriedly caught him as he started to slide down the trunk. She was surprised to feel him shaking. She took a mental reading on him again and found that he was becoming closed off to her as his normal mental defenses kicked in and created a muddy sea she could not swim through. Jean shook her head and wondered if he consciously knew he was doing it.

He pushed off the tree and stood straight. "Come on, we’ve got a lot to go over."
------

(Chapter 18)

"Carol? What are you talking about? What do you know about Wolverine? Carol?" Marie had a sudden vision of her lover walking into a trap and wanted to know what she could do to stop it.

"I wish I could help you, Rogue. I really do. I didn’t help him, you know. I let him down." Carol began to sob. "I let him down."

"Let who down? Carol, stay with me, okay? We’ve got to get out of here."

Marie began really studying the cage she was in and started to stand up to check the bolting attachments at the ceiling when a hand reached out to her and touched her glove.

"Wait. Rogue, what’s your mutation? Can you really get us out? I’ve been here for so long…I want to be free…" Carol’s tear stained face was pleading with her.

"My mutation can’t help us. Ah can only absorb another’s powers through my skin. Ah can’t move walls or anything like that but Ah know a few tricks and a lot about survival." Marie smiled and patted Carol’s hand. "Don’t give up hope, Carol. We can make it."

"You can absorb? Take my powers! You can break the bars of your cage and get out!"

"No." Rogue was firm. "You’re too weak. Ah could accidentally kill you."

Suddenly Carol’s hand clamped down on her own and Marie winced at the strong grip.

"Carol, no!"

Carol’s other hand snaked out and gripped Marie above the elbow. They were now touching bare skin to bare skin. Marie felt the shock as her skin took control.

"No!" Marie screamed in pain and tried in vain to break free, but it was no use.

Carol flowed into her and Marie became overwhelmed with the memories and the power. Finally the death grip loosened and Rogue pushed against the bars to get away in time to save Carol. An enormous strength tore through her muscles. Her mind, though, was on a fragile edge. The memories that played before her were frightening and Carol’s personality was extremely powerful. She began to slip, losing herself in images that were not hers as the other psyche began to take control of her body. Feebly she cried out for help as she convulsed on the floor.

"Logan!"

---

They had napped for a couple of hours after the briefing broke up, everyone wanting to be rested for the early morning attack against the compound.

"All set?" Storm tapped the comlink in her ear and fired up the engines on the ‘bird. She had waited forty minutes for everyone to get into position.

Kurt sat in the copilot’s seat and gave her a thumb’s up.

Samuel gave Remy a thumb’s up and the Cajun replied. "Oui. Ready."

"I’m ready." Jean was near an outcropping of rock that hid a small entrance to the generator area.

"We’re set." Two Logans, one in uniform and one in a T-shirt and jeans, were near the end of a huge vent.

"We’re a go." The jet rose into the predawn sky and rolled in a slow arc toward Alkali Lake.

---

Remy and Samuel stood on a small ridge overlooking the quiet compound. They were both dressed in X-Men uniforms. Remy had modified his slightly by clipping off the tips of his gloves so the energy could flow from his fingertips. He was also wearing one of Scott’s overcoats, the pockets of which were stuffed with as many playing cards, rocks and other small objects as he could find.

"Fast as you can, mon ami. Let’s wake those soldat."

"One bombing run coming up." Samuel replied.

Samuel grabbed Remy around the chest from behind and called up his mutation. He felt the energy flow around him and he began to use it to ‘slide’ through the air with tremendous force and speed. Even if the enemy fired at them, they would not be hurt, the force field he generated would see to that. He had to be careful, though, and adjust the energy to let out Remy’s projectiles or the two of them would end up exploding, not the complex. They dove down toward the area where the vehicles were stored, bent on revenge.

Stryker was on his way from his quarters to the mess area when his radio chirped. He listened to the report and quickly began barking orders.

"Then find out where the explosions are coming from, damn it! Get up there and seal off any entrances to the complex! Send out the helicopter to take down any enemy craft and ready a ground force…Then use whatever men you have left, you idiot! Protect this base! I’ll have Cyclops guard the generators." Stryker ran for the basement. "Damn it, Miller. They’re useless without you," he panted to himself. "I’ll bet it’s only Wolverine." He flipped a switch and keyed the radio. "Deathstrike, grab the men with you and meet me in the tank section!"

Stryker made his way to the basement and whipped out the remote, firing off a signal spark that made Cyclops jump. "Mystique is here!" shouted Stryker. "Come with me!"

The soldiers didn’t realize that the jet was not causing the explosions because they never saw the jet in the first place. The lone helicopter sent up to secure the air over the base was seen as a joke and Storm readied her mutation. Wind gusts buffeted the chopper until it was blown far away from the compound. Then Ororo slammed the other craft with a downdraft and watched it spin helplessly toward the earth. She circled back to her observatory position, not seeing the helicopter stop dead in midair near an unusual truck trailer that was hovering at a low altitude.

Logan sliced through the vent cover. Sparks showed Mystique it was hot-wired. They bent low and ran swiftly to the other end that led to the mutant processing area. Again the metal sang out and bars were neatly sliced away. Mystique jumped down into the room while Logan climbed up a ventilation shaft ladder and disappeared. The door to the room burst open and three men holding assault rifles faced her. She slightly raised her hands and grimly smiled.

One of them grabbed a radio. "Sir, we have the Wolverine in the basement." He listened to the astonished reply and put the radio away. "He says to shoot him and cuff him and take him to Marvel’s cell."

"You couldn’t take Wolverine on a good day." Mystique grinned and changed to her own unique form. "Hello boys. Let’s have a little fun."

---

Logan cautiously entered the main experimentation area. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. There were about ten males ahead of him, scattered around the disarray of the room, and, though he welcomed the confrontation, he waited for the signal.

A radio faintly chirped ahead of him and someone clicked the channel open. Logan’s superior hearing picked up the almost inaudible voice on the other end.

"Sir," it was a dying gasp. "Wolverine is loose. We couldn’t hold…" Then there was silence.

That was Mystique’s signal. She had taken out the guards in the basement and would set the others free. Now he just had to keep these idiots busy. He flipped a small piece of metal he found across the room where he had just been and a small pinging noise was heard. An overanxious soldier moved slightly and Logan smiled, pinpointing his location. Jean had better take down those generators soon or else Mystique was going to have a problem with the cells he thought as he moved forward.

Logan silently took down three men before he stopped. Jean had yet to disable the generators. Something was wrong. On edge, he hesitated one second too long and the next victim managed to get off a yell before he died. The alarm sent bullets flying toward his position and Logan was forced to find cover.

"Looking for me? I knew you would. You tracked me here, didn’t you? Revenge still seems to be your best motivation." The voice was familiar. It was the bearded man from the mansion. "The other mutants were in the basement where you were. You could have freed them, but you wanted to get me first, didn’t you? You haven’t changed, my pet."

Stryker came into view ahead of him along with a woman and six soldiers in uniform. Logan did not stand. He wanted to draw this out as long as he could while the rescue operation was in progress. His only worry was Jean.

"I tell you what. I’ll have these men put down their weapons. They’ll be our witnesses. If you can kill Lady Deathstrike here, I’ll give myself over to you and you win. I warn you though…" A steel door shot down behind Logan and cut him off from the way he came in. "She’s pretty good if I do say so myself. I believe she’ll win."

Logan heard the lie in his tone, but didn’t know what to make of it.

Stryker chuckled. "I know what you’re thinking. You can cut through the door behind you, but you’ll be in sight of my men and they’ll bring their weapons to bear on you, taking you down with multiple shots. This particular phase of the lab hasn’t been set up yet, so you should have plenty of room to fight. Come, gentlemen, let’s give the lovebirds some room to tangle."

Stryker and the six men backed toward the far door and the woman advanced. Logan realized he had no choice. He stood and met her attack.

---

"Jean, Jean!" Storm was getting worried. She glanced at the co-pilot seat. "Are you ready?"

"We are going ahead with the plan?" Nightcrawler’s tail swished nervously. "You don’t know what has happened to your friend. How can we stay with the schedule?"

"She’ll do it. Have faith."

Kurt smiled. "What a wonderful idea." He bowed his head for a moment then raised it, opening his eyes. "Let’s hope He heard," he said before he vanished in a puff of smoke.

---

Remy and Samuel surveyed the damage to the transport trucks and the hangar.

"I think they deserve more."

"Hold on there. You know the plan. No more explosions or Stryker will figure out Logan’s not alone. Don’t forget what comes next. We’ll make sure this place never gets used again." Samuel shielded his eyes from the morning sunlight. "She should be sending him any minute now."

Bamf. Nightcrawler appeared beside them, causing both young men to jump.

"Don’t do that!" Remy had two cards in hand and had almost charged them. "You could get hurt."

"Are you ready?" Kurt grabbed the two and disappeared again, leaving only wisps of blue mist in his wake.
------

(Chapter 19)

She was confident, too confident. His senses told him Stryker had already left. The six men in uniform were still close by but not lifting a finger to help her. The lady was deadly, as his uniform was beginning to attest, but she wasn’t deadly enough to take him down as Stryker surely knew. Unless…Logan twisted and sliced in an unexpected blur of motion that she couldn’t escape fast enough from. The claws left a distinctive set of stripes down her back. He watched carefully as they battled for the next few minutes. She stopped bleeding fairly quickly, much too quickly for a normal human, but she did not actually heal. That was it then, she couldn’t take him down. Stryker must have set this up so she would be killed. But why?

"Why to the death?" he panted. She was good and was keeping him on the defensive.

"You should know," Deathstrike spat.

"No, I don’t. Your boss took care of that."

"Took care of what?"

She lunged forward in a low sweep that forced him to leap away. She followed up with a rush and he caught her blades on his own and smashed his skull against hers, causing her to stagger before she flipped out of his reach. She paused for a moment to clear her head then snarled.

She thought she was winning, Logan reflected. Maybe he needed to show her just what she was facing. Deathstrike feinted in with an obvious move, then pulled sideways with a slash that should have taken half of his face off. He saw it coming and only allowed the tips to rake his cheek. The sparkle of triumph in her eyes faded as she watched in disbelief; the slashes disappeared. Her gaze flicked over his dark uniform. That’s right, lady, Logan thought, all the damage you’ve done has already healed. The first faint scent of fear sparked the air around him and the animal in him responded with a growl.

The next few minutes marked a turning point in the battle. She was now on the defensive and fighting for her life. A quick glance showed her that the soldiers hadn’t lifted their weapons in her defense. Sweat trickled down her temple.

"He set you up, you know that."

"I’m going to kill you!" It was hollow even to her ears.

She swiped and caught him in the forearm. Metal hit metal as her blades met his modified bones and he grabbed her arm and twisted, dislocating her shoulder as he tucked her arm against his body and gripped her other arm by the wrist.

"You killed my father," she hissed even as she struggled to break free.

"When?" He was ruthless as he forced her eyes to meet his.

"Twenty years ago."

"I woke up seventeen years ago naked, except for a dog tag, with no memory of who I was or where I was," growled Logan. "Anything before that, you’ll have to talk to Stryker."

"No." It was an involuntary whisper.

"Afraid to find out the truth? Afraid to find out that Stryker sent me to kill him? I was his fucking puppet. Ask him. I don’t know why he wants me to kill you. I don’t know why he set this up. He put this metal in me and gave me these claws so I would be his own personal killing machine. What did he use you for?""

"You’re lying!"

Logan allowed her to get away and stepped back quickly to avoid the talons. She slashed out in anger and he met her step for step, forcing her backward toward a rack of equipment.

"I can prove it. Look, if I win, they’ll shoot me and take me to Stryker. If you win, they’ll shoot you before you can do too much damage and take me to Stryker. Both ways you die and he gets me. You can’t kill me, not with those." He saw the doubt in her eyes and knew he was winning in more ways than one.

Stryker had set her up so this man would kill her. Had it always been this way? Looking back, she saw how her actions and desire for revenge had been manipulated. The man in front of her was not what she had expected and she decided he was telling the truth.

"What do you have in mind?" she gasped. He grabbed her in a clutch and whispered in her ear. She listened to his plan. It seemed simple enough and there was no risk for her. She would take him down and then see what happened.

"You’re putting your trust in the hands of an enemy, why?" She asked.

"Like you, I have no other choice," he said simply. "Now take your best shot."

Deathstrike smashed her forehead into his nose. When he relaxed his grip, she whirled like a demon, forcing Logan back against the equipment stacks. Her direction suddenly changed and she raked her talons through the metal pipes that supported the structure. Down came the equipment, trapping Logan beneath it. She kicked his head and he went limp. At that moment, the clicks of safeties behind her back caused her heart to race. Slowly she started to laugh and turned to face the men. They had their rifles trained on her, just as the Wolverine had said they would. She shrugged and pulled in her blades.

"I think that’s all I need to do, boys. Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere for a while."

They lowered their rifles in confusion. Miller’s orders had been to kill her if she tried to finish the Wolverine off. Nothing was said about killing her if she didn’t.

"Wrap him up. I’ll tell Stryker he’s ours."

She stepped quickly, afraid they would see through her bluff. Yuriko didn’t let her breath out until she was clear of the room. A scowl formed on her beautiful features. Betray her, would he? Use her, would he? She raced forward, intent on answers, forgetting about the fate of the mutant behind her.

---

The girlfriend was out cold. So was the older woman in the ancient cage beside her. Good, she’d get Pyro first. Mystique cased the cell area. There was no one else here, unless you counted the bodies in one cell and the block of ice in the other. Unfinished wiring told her that the bars hadn’t been electrified yet. She tapped her earpiece.

"Eagle eyes, hotshot’s not in the cage. Call off J, the cages aren’t wired for sound yet. They didn’t have time."

She changed into the form St. John associated with Raven, then unlocked the door and swung it open. He was the first one she wanted to free anyway, forget what Logan said. It was freezing in his cell due to the icy structure just beyond it. St. John wasn’t moving. She reached down and shook him. Nothing. There was a strange wrenching sound behind her, down the hall, and she shrank back against the bars, trying to gain a better defensive position. Footsteps approached and she crouched for the spring.

"He’s been chipped, but not activated. You can wake him up by causing him pain. That neutralizes what they’ve done. They usually shit bricks when someone deactivates prematurely." Carol/Rogue looked at Mystique’s doubtful face. "Don’t worry, it always works."

Mystique slowly rose to a standing position. It looked like Wolverine’s girlfriend, but the southern accent was gone.

"Who are you?" Raven asked slowly.

"My name’s…Marvel. No, it’s Carol. Yes, it’s Carol. Who are you?"

Mystique noticed Rogue was taking off the gloves. "My name is…Raven. Where’s Rogue?"

"Rogue? Oh, the other one. She’s in here, somewhere." She approached Pyro with bare hands and Mystique tensed. "Here, I’ll show you."

Carol easily hauled the unconscious teenager into a seated position and then spun him where his back was against the bars. She leaned him forward and slammed his head back against the steel. Mystique winced at the sound of impact.

Pyro’s eyelids fluttered. The first person he saw was…

"Raven? What happened?" He held out a bandaged hand. "They got you, too?"

Mystique grasped his hand and held it gently. "No, you idiot, I’m here to get you out." She smiled at him.

"God, my head feels terrible."

"I’ll bet," said Carol cheerfully. "Let’s free the other one, then get my body out of the first cell."

"What body? Rogue, is that you?" Pyro tried to stand and made it with a little help from Raven. "What’s going on?"

"I’m not Rogue, pretty boy. My name’s Carol. Let’s get Popsicle out of his tomb." She left the cage and stood before the ice. "Shall we smash it, I guess?"

She hauled her right fist back and let it go, just as St. John yelled, "No!"

Massive cracks appeared in the structure and part of it broke off. Miller now lay on the floor, in two large pieces.

"Wait…uh, Carol. It’s better if we melt it." St. John fumbled in his pockets for his lighter but came up empty.

"Looking for this?" Mystique held up his precious object. "I found it on one of the guards when I was looking for keys."

Pyro kissed her. "What would I do without you?" He flicked a flame and waved a hand, then cried out in agony and drew the hand back as he quickly shut the lighter. "What did they do to my hand?" He stared at the seared bandages.

"Try it with the other one. Hurry."

He nodded to Mystique and switched hands. Again he grimaced in pain, but only because it hurt to flick the lighter with his injured fingers. A small flame became a fireball and the ice began to melt rapidly. Or at least it did until the ground shook violently beneath them and the lights went out.

---

"Easy, bitch says hotshot was not in the cage. There may be trouble. The candle’s out but the ground just shook and I can’t raise Lady J. How’s the spigot?" Ororo had watched the building’s exterior lights go out and its walls shake from the air.

"Ready to blow, eagle," said Remy. "It’s set and wired. But if we don’t find hotshot…"

"Roger that," said Ororo.
------

(Chapter 20)

Scott found himself in a crumpled heap against a wall. At least it felt like a wall. He reached up and confirmed that the visor was still on then opened his eyes then closed and opened them again. Either his vision was going or the room was almost completely dark. There was a dim red light far ahead of him that gave him an indication that the room was a vast space. He slowly rose to his feet, wincing as his back protested, and realized that he had been lying in some glass. Scott reached back and ran his glove over the area on his spine that hurt. The glove glistened wetly when he looked at it. Could it be blood? That part of his back sure as hell stung. Scott looked up and saw the remnants of an old exit sign. He had been against the door below it. If he had hit that sign with his back, that meant he had been nine feet in the air at the time. What could throw him that high?

There was a slight scraping noise and a faint moan. Instantly alert, Scott moved forward quietly. There were five huge generators against the wall and he studied them as he passed by. They looked like a giant had played with them, as if they had been picked up, shaken, then put back down. Only one was operating but it was in bad shape. A shower of yellow sparks brightened the room for a second and he spotted a foot sticking out between the last two machines. He advanced quickly and rounded the corner. Another burst of sparks revealed the details of the prone form.

"Jean!"

Instantly he was at her side, cradling her in his arms. A small moan from his woman caused a big lump in his throat. As best he could, he checked her over for wounds, the occasional cascade of golden sparks helping him to see. She was battered and bruised, as if she had been in a fight, but there were no bones broken and she was breathing normally. He adjusted his legs underneath him and stood with her in his arms. Where to go from here? Come to think of it, where on earth was he?

Jean started violently and he almost dropped her.

"Easy there, lady. It’s me." His voice was calm, reassuring. "I’m not going anywhere without you. I can’t. I don’t know where we are."

He quirked a rueful grin and saw the dim light reflect in her eyes. Her hands had stopped pushing against him, but they were still shaking.

"Jean? Are you with me?"

He heard a sob and he hugged her close, welcoming her answering grip as her arms snaked around his neck.

"It’s you!" She began to laugh and cry at the same time. "I thought we’d lost you. Put me down, I can walk."

He let her down, but her arms stayed around him and they hugged each other for an eternal second.

She pulled back. "We have to get out of here. We need to check on Mystique."

"What? Did you say Mystique?"

"Yes. I’ll explain on the way." She grabbed his hand and then stopped. She waived a hand in front of her and then waived it in front of her face. "I can’t see."

"The room’s really dark, sweetheart."

"Scott, fire the visor at something, anything."

He turned and blasted the door off its hinges. She jumped at the noise.

"Is someone there? Did you fire? Or is that the soldiers again?"

"I blew the door down, Jean. You didn’t see it, did you?" His face was grim. "What blinded you, Jean?" He had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Who did this to you?"

"You did. Stryker was controlling you. You thought I was Mystique." She reached out and touched his chest, then placed her palm against him. "You had no idea what you were doing or who you were doing it to."

"Did I beat you?" His voice was strained.

"Stryker beat me, through you. It’s not the same thing." She tried to look him in the eye. "I think I did as much damage to you as you did to me. How’s your back? I didn’t mean to throw you so hard but I remembered that Nightcrawler came out of the trance when he was hurt at the White House and I was desperate to get you back. We need your help to destroy this place, but we’ve got to get going."

He hugged her to him for a second, apologies not even coming close to what he wanted to say. Mentally she reached out and embraced him, trying to wipe away the guilt and replace it with her love.

Scott pulled away, kissed her, and then grabbed one of her hands. "Which way? Fill me in as we go."

---

Logan awoke as they were lifting him onto a gurney. He shoved out with his feet and landed on the floor where he rolled, pushing the gurney into the men behind him. In a minute or two, no one was left in the lab; the red emergency lights offered a dim glimpse of the six bodies Logan had left behind him.

Jean must have come through, he thought, as he followed Lady Deathstrike’s scent down the dark hall. He came to an office and stepped inside carefully. The furniture was in disarray. The Asian woman was lying on the floor in a crumpled heap and gasping for air. His eyes adjusted to the dark corner where she lay and he inhaled sharply at the sight of her face and body. What the hell?

Logan shoved a leather chair out of his way and knelt down beside her. His nose convinced him of what his eyes refused to believe. She was dying, but she was decomposing before she was even dead.

"What happened? Did Stryker do this to you?" He pulled out a dart that was lodged in her arm and sniffed it.

She nodded softly and began to whisper. Even his excellent hearing had to focus to catch all the words.

"He shot me when the lights went out. He used me. Please let me tell you…

"My father developed…technique to strengthen weak bones with metal grafts in Japan. Plans were stolen. He tried to find...traced it to America. One night you killed him and, and I watched. I left for…America to find plans and you. Found Stryker. Said he would help. Changed me. Changed my body…" Her hands twitched feebly and he could see through the rotting skin how the talons worked on a complex cyborg mechanism. His claws must be of a similar design. "He used me. My anger…My fault. I wanted to kill you. I didn’t know."

"Shh. It’s okay." Logan was at a loss. He had never seen someone die like this and he wanted even more to tear Stryker apart for what he had done.

"He changed himself…to heal. Like me. Took it from you?"

Logan nodded. His jaw tightened at the thought.

"Used you, too." She was having a hard time now. Whatever was killing her was speeding up. "On table…experiment. Serum…shot me with it. Shoot him." Tears were running down her face. "Kill me, please…."

He took off his gloves and touched her face gently, feeling the skin crumble under his fingers. "Close your eyes and tell me your name."

She closed her eyes. "Yuriko."

He quickly shot a blade into her heart before she had a chance to tense up. Her eyes remained closed. She was dead.

Logan turned and went to the lab table behind him and found the serum. It smelled the same and he reloaded the dart with it. He rummaged around in drawers until he found a dart gun. Dropping the dart in the chamber of the pistol, his gaze fell on some scribbled notes and he picked them up off the floor. In the dim red lighting he read the results of Stryker’s latest chemical scheme. Logan took a deep breath. This had to end. The bastard had to die before he killed anyone else. The dart gun was slipped into his waistband in the back, under his jacket, and he sniffed the air for the scent of his prey.

---

There was a flick and a ball of flame appeared, lighting the area.

"Everyone okay?"

"Yes, pretty boy, everyone’s great. Thaw icicle man and let’s get out of here." Carol/Rogue stood. "I can crack more ice if it will speed things up."

"No," said St. John. "Have a little patience." He threw a small smile at Raven, who was still seated on the floor where she had fallen.

They watched and the ice began to melt away leaving one icy structure in the middle.

"Iceman? You okay?"

The eyes of the icy human form blinked and it began to move. Bobby shivered and the icy protective shell cascaded off of him. He wobbled and sank to the floor.

"I’m a little weak, Pyro. Can you help me?" He saw the beautiful blonde on the floor. "Who’s that, guys?"

"This is Raven. Raven, this is Iceman."

Bobby grimaced. "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, Raven."

"Me, too," said Mystique. "Let’s get out of here."

"Wait. Hand me the keys." Carol/Rogue took them from Mystique. "I want my body."

"Her what?" asked Bobby. "Rogue, what’s up?"

"Don’t ask me," said Pyro as he helped bobby up with his injured arm while balancing he fireball with the other. "I just came to myself. She’s been acting really weird."

"My body." Carol/Rogue unlocked the cell door and picked up the lifeless body of Carol. "Here it is. It’s not dead yet. That’s good." She carried it back to them.

Bobby and St. John stared. "Who are you?" asked Bobby slowly.

"My name is Carol."

"Did you touch Rogue?"

"Yes," she said brightly. "I was trying to give her my strength so she could bend the bars of her cage and get away. She didn’t want to, she said it would kill me. She fought me but I won. Now I’m inside her."

"Pyro! Iceman! Rogue! Are you in here?" Scott rounded the corner, drawn by Pyro’s firelight but keeping a hand on his trigger nonetheless. "Thank God," he said when he saw them. He looked hard at Mystique but didn’t say anything, having been warned by Jean that Pyro didn’t know who she was. "Is everyone all right?"

"Cyclops," said St. John, "this is my girlfriend Raven. She came with the others to rescue us." He and bobby hobbled out of the cell.

"Yes, so I’ve heard." He and Mystique studied each other carefully, neither one wanting to hurt the young man but neither liking the situation very much.

"I think you need to meet Carol, Cyclops. She held on to Rogue so Rogue could use her enhanced strength to escape. We think she held onto Rogue a little too long, if you know what I mean." Bobby jerked his head meaningfully in Rogue’s direction.

"Hi, nice to meet you, Cyclops. What’s with the goofy glasses?"

"I see." Scott was silent for a moment. "All right. Is anyone else in here that needs to be let out?"

Mystique showed them a cell with twelve bodies in it, badly decomposed bodies that looked as if they had been there for months.

"I found these, but I don’t get it," said Raven. "Wolverine said Styker just moved back here. Why would he bring something like that with him?"

"I don’t know" Scott’s voice was clipped. He didn’t like having Mystique this close. "Let’s get out of here. Jean says we need to hurry." He looked at Brotherhood member. "Where’s Wolverine now?"

"Doing his job. He’s supposed to be taking out the bad guys while I rescue these three." She grinned coyly. "I imagine he’s having fun."

Pyro gave her a funny look, but Scott just frowned. "I mean has anyone seen him lately?"

"No."
------

(Chapter 22)

Scott crept through the lab areas, unsure of just where he was going. He needed to be back with Jean but, when she told him she couldn’t find Logan and that he may be unconscious, his leadership responsibilities kicked in.

He found six dead soldiers, a creepy sight in the dim red shadows, and pressed on, knowing he was on the right track. When he made it down the hall and found an open office he found an even more horrific scene: another one of those corpses that looked like it had been dead for months. The remnants of long, black hair and the small bone structure told him it probably was a female. The hand and forearm bones, though, were bizarre. They looked like something from a science fiction movie. Or something akin to what Logan had in him. The thought made him shiver and he moved back down the hall again, a little faster this time.

A voice broke the silence ahead of him and he ducked. Seeing no one, Scott slunk forward. There was a large room at the next bend in the hall and it mirrored the other lab except this one had been set up with tables and equipment. There was a flashlight on and Scott could see Logan on the floor, just inside the door; he was not moving, as if he were unconscious. The voice and the light belonged to a man just out of Scott’s view. If he moved, he would be spotted, so Scott decided to scope out the situation first, rather than charge in and put them both in trouble.

"Come on, it may take you a few minutes to recover, but I know you’re awake. I expect it will be a little while until you can move, though. That will give me plenty of time to restrain you and take what I need. On second thought, let’s chat. I can always shoot you again and again if I feel like it." The voice sighed happily. "I’ve missed you, my pet."

Scott spotted the small dart protruding from Logan’s neck and began to have horrible flashbacks of the day Logan took Graves apart in the meadow.

"If you’re wondering what I shot you with, it’s pavulon, the same muscle relaxant they use in combination with two other chemicals to kill death row inmates. You’ll recover. I won’t kill you."

"You mean you can’t. Not now. You need a fix." Logan’s voice was shaky and faint.

Logan was lying on his left side; his head pointed in Scott’s direction, although he didn’t see the younger man as his attention was focused on the enemy. His right arm was twisted behind his back and Scott saw him weakly wave a warning finger and then point to something under his jacket. He must have smelled me, thought Scott, and he’s trying to tell me something.

"You know, you always were too smart for your own good. But then I like being kept on my toes. Anyone else would have killed Lady Deathstrike, you know. I knew you’d figure that one out and let her live. That’s why I shot her with the cloning solution. But you know about that too, don’t you?"

Scott watched Logan nod.

"Did you know that I thought you were dead until last week? I saw an article in one of those trashy little tabloids and followed the trail." Scott grimaced at this but listened as the voice continued. "I was gone the day Carl decided to test the serum on you because I needed some expert advice on how to keep your genetic samples viable. I was constantly taking samples from you because they deteriorated so rapidly. Your body is amazing, but once you take any part of it away from the whole, even a drop of blood, it cannot survive on its own and decomposes rapidly. Carl was trying to surprise me, I know, but I was left with this place destroyed and only the samples I had on me to work with.

"First, I modified myself. After all, I wanted to live longer so I could complete my life’s work of harnessing and destroying mutants. I found that your DNA does not combine as well with a normal human string as it does with a mutant’s. Still, I heal faster and do not age nearly so fast as I would normally. When Yuriko found me, I convinced her to let me help her and built her into the weapon I had lost when you disappeared. She’s the world’s first cyborg, or was. She’s dead by now, I’m sure."

"By the time she was completed all the material I had left of you was too compromised to use on anyone else. That was when I decided to try to regrow it; clone it. I wonder just how many humans I lost testing the cloning solutions I came up with."

"One thousand, eight hundred, and seventy two."

Logan’s voice was a little stronger now and Scott watched him slowly slide an object out from under his jacket. It looked like a gun but he couldn’t be sure in the dim light.

"Ah, you read the reports. Careless of me leaving them lying around like that, but I knew you would be on my trail and I had to act quickly. Yes, that’s quite a few and do you know what happened to all of them? They decomposed while still alive. Your genetic material always seemed to dominate the experiment and destroy itself since it wasn’t part of your body. And it took whatever host it was in with it. I had stumbled upon something that could kill a human and leave no trace. Quite a fantastic weapon, actually, but not what I needed, although I have several parties interested in purchasing it once I get the kill time down to a couple of minutes. Right now my test subjects have been known to live as long as thirty. Such an excruciating death, too." There was a pause.

The voice was tinged with an excited glee that made the hairs go up on the back of Scott’s neck. Whoever this was, they were either insane or extremely dangerous. Probably both.

"As I said, the solution was not what I needed personally. You see my body is now starting to age again and take longer to heal. I noticed lady Deathstrike’s did, too. I assumed correctly that your material was again asserting its need to be in the host body or else and I would begin to fall apart just like my unfortunate test subjects. My only hope was to find another mutant with healing abilities. Imagine my delight at finding you. Now I have you back in my lab and everything is beautiful. You can live, perhaps, forever and I, by extension, can too. I can also use your DNA to alter Cyclops and change him into the weapon you refused to be."

Scott had a brilliant idea and began to back up.

"No!" Logan’s voice was a mixture of rage and agony. "I’ll fucking kill you before I let that happen. No more weapons." He struggled to sit up but fell back.

There was a chuckle. "You aren’t in a position to stop me. You always were an animal, subject to the whims of your emotions. Looks like it’s time to shoot you again."

With Logan’s loyalty to spur him on, Scott crept away from the door and stood. He then walked slowly, mechanically down the hall and started to go past the lab door.

"Wait! Halt!"

Scott heard a clicking noise and stopped.

"Come here, Cyclops. What are you doing out of the library?"

Scott turned and found himself facing a shorter man with a beard and glasses. He looked strangely familiar. "I have taken care of Mystique," Scott said woodenly as he stepped unseeingly over Logan.

"Good, very good." The man clicked a remote at him and Scott supposed it was the controlling device. He shivered for effect and the man seemed pleased.

"See, Wolverine? I have the upper hand, in everything." Stryker smiled, his eyes focused on Cyclops.

Logan quickly aimed the pistol. "Not everything, bub." He fired and hit Stryker in the neck.

Immediately Scott crouched in a defensive position in front of Logan, hand ready on the visor. Stryker gagged, dropped the flashlight, and sank to a seated position on the floor, coughing and sputtering.

"Help me up, will you? He’s not going anywhere." Logan tried to pull himself up using the table beside him.

Scott hauled him up the rest of the way. "I guess this is Stryker."

"It was." Logan’s legs were still a little wobbly but he was recovering fast and he made it over to a screen.

"What are you doing?" Scott came over and helped him move it.

There was a pathetic figure behind it. A middle-aged man sat crumpled in a wheelchair. There were all sorts of machines hooked up to him, humming away as they seemed to be drawing fluid out of his brain and spinal column. Scott fought the urge to throw up. He looked over at Logan.

Logan leaned forward and held up the dog tag around the man’s throat. It said 142.

"Can we save him?"

Logan shook his head and tilted the man’s chin toward Scott. The light from the fallen flashlight revealed a horrific scar on the side of his skull. The man had been lobotomized rather ruthlessly. Logan held a fist against the man’s chest. Scott watched the forearm muscles tense and then relax.

"The scent distracted me and Stryker managed to get off a shot." Logan pulled his hand away and Scott saw the small hole left behind. "How many more are there, bub?" Logan turned and glared at the man on the floor.

"Save me and I’ll tell you." Stryker’s skin had changed color from rosy pink to ashen gray. "You can’t leave me like this."

Scott raised his hand to his visor. "We should put him out of his misery, too."

Logan pulled Scott’s arm down. "No. Not you. If someone’s going to kill him, let’s let it be the asshole himself."

He left the room for a moment.

"He’s nothing but an animal. You saw how easily he killed that man. You’ll never be able to trust him. He’ll turn on you. Help me. Save me. All I need is some of his blood…" Stryker was beginning to fade and started to slump against the counter behind him.

"He’s human, not an animal, and what he did was an act of kindness. I’m glad he can’t remember you or what you did to him. I should kill you for what you’ve done to me and my family but he’s right. It’d be more of a poetic justice if you killed yourself." Scott’s voice was harsh.

"He can’t remember? Anything?" Stryker paused. "How interesting…"

Logan walked back into the room and held out a pistol. "There’s one bullet. You should still have enough muscle to pull the trigger and kill yourself." He put it on the floor and slid it to Stryker. "Now you’ll see what kind of person you wanted to be merciful to," he murmured to Scott.

Stryker grinned savagely and grabbed for the pistol with surprising strength. He aimed it straight at Cyclops’ heart. "Give me your blood, Wolverine or I’ll kill him." There was no weakness in his voice now.

"No."

Stryker pulled the trigger but the gun only clicked.

"Oops, must’ve forgotten the bullet. You don’t really think I’d give you a chance to hurt him, do you?" Logan’s eyes glittered strangely in the dim light. "Who’s the animal now?"

The trigger clicked again and again. Finally Stryker threw the gun at Logan but it never came close.

"Damn you!" Stryker began to froth at the mouth, his features twisting with hate.

"Yes, you did." Logan said grimly. He turned to Scott. "Coming?"

Shocked by the whole situation, Scott took one last look at the pathetic man on the floor. His skin was now a ghastly pallor and his face the very picture of rage. Logan was right; any attempt to help him or be merciful to him would be met with more treachery. He backed away and left with Logan. As they walked down the dark hall together there was one last cry from the lab behind them.

"Damn you! I made you! You need me! You’ll never know who you really are unless you save me!"

Scott looked over at Logan. He was sorry now for letting it slip to Stryker that Logan had no memory. The older man’s steps never faltered, though, and Scott heard him mutter under his breath.

"I know who I am now. That’s all that matters."
------

(Chapter 23)

"Maybe if I touch her, I can help her battle this ‘Carol’ like she said I helped her with Magneto."

Logan was upset, to put it mildly. Scott had told him what had happened to Rogue and they were both racking their brains for a solution to the problem. They came out of the complex and met the others just outside the gates.

"Where is everyone?" Scott looked around.

Jean turned her head in the direction of her lover’s voice.

"I’m so glad you two are all right. We have a problem. Carol asked Raven why she’d been blue when she first came into the cell area. Iceman figured it out and accused her. She punched him and left and Pyro ran off. His mind is extremely conflicted, Cyclops. He doesn’t know what to think."

Carol chose that moment to come back in the clearing. "I didn’t see the way pretty boy went. I’m sorry if I caused a problem." She looked over and spotted Logan. "Oh my God. It’s you! You are alive! I thought they were kidding, torturing me. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted, needed to talk to you."

She raced forward and hugged Logan, but Logan gently broke the hug and held her out at arm’s length. The eyes were different. Rogue’s eyes had changed to a murky green color. He held out a hand and touched her bare cheek. Nothing happened. No pull, no way to get in there and help his mate fight off this possession. Logan frowned.

"You can’t forgive me, can you?" She started to tear up.

"Where’s Rogue? Let me talk to her."

"No. No, I want you to talk to me. I’m not going to let you have her until you listen to me. I’ve waited so long."

Logan closed his eyes. The pain was almost too much to bear.

"Cyclops, someone has to go after Pyro." Jean was insistent.

"I’ll go after him." Scott started to leave.

"No. I’ll go. We need you to do something else. You’re the only one who can make sure this place isn’t used again. Jean, call easy. Tell him hotshot’s available." Wolverine turned to leave and stopped, taking a closer look at Jean. "Why are your eyes red?"

"They are?" Scott moved closer to his fiancée. "Can you see yet?"

"She’s blind?" Stunned, Logan glanced at Iceman who, still nursing a busted jaw, nodded. "Damn, one more thing to add to this mess," he growled as he bowed his shoulders and silently disappeared in the woods.

Jean tapped the comlink in her ear. "Easy, hotshot’s ready. We’re at the Southeast entrance. Tell blue eyes it’s time for the pick up. Get ready on the spigot." She listened for a minute and nodded and spoke in Scott’s direction. "Cannonball’s on his way. Kurt’s ready to pull Gambit out of the dam control area as soon as the detonator is set. All you have to do is create a channel for the water and a new lake for it to rest in."

Scott frowned. "We need to get you three away from here."

"I can carry us any place we need to go," said Carol unexpectedly. She slung her body over her shoulder and grabbed Jean and Bobby around their waists. As she rose slowly into the air, much to the surprise of the others, she said, "You just make sure Wolverine talks to me when he gets back."

---

St. John was in shock. He had been kidnapped. Humans had experimented on him. They had hurt him and abused him, tried to make him into what they wanted him to be. Then his girlfriend had rescued him and it seemed like love had saved the day and they could ride off into the sunset together. There was just one problem, sweet Raven was the venomous Mystique. He had risked everything, gotten his teammates into worlds of trouble for her? This was the same bitch that had tried to kill the kids he knew and loved at the school. Yet this was also the same sweet, funny, wonderful person he had fallen for. His world was upside down.

Someone cleared their throat and Pyro looked up. It was Logan. He braced himself for the ‘I told you so’ lecture. He sure as hell deserved it.

"I just wanted you to know why she helped," said Logan. "She didn’t have to. She had a choice. She chose to work with us to get you out of there."

"She’s a killer." St. John wiped his eyes with his wounded forearm. "How can I love a killer?"

"Ask Rogue what that’s like."

St. John sucked in a breath. "But that’s…"

"Different? Is it? I’ve killed more the past few days that she has, I’ll bet. Rogue has made," Logan choked on the words a little, "a tremendous difference between me staying as I was and me becoming human again. I never would have come to the mansion, taught you guys anything, or learned how to love, live, or laugh again without her. Can you understand that?"

Pyro nodded.

"You have the chance to make that kind of difference in someone else’s life." Logan could not believe what he was saying, but he knew it was the truth.

"She’ll never come to the mansion."

"Probably not."

"Should I go with her?"

Logan saw the hope in Pyro’s eyes. The young man’s heart was already gone he just didn’t know it yet.

He sighed. "Follow your instincts, Allerdyce. Just remember, you haven’t burned any bridges with me."

St. John stood and rocked on his heels. That was what he had been afraid of. If he followed his heart, would they understand? Now he knew someone would. Logan would always be there. If that were true, the rest would come around someday, right? Maybe he could work it to where he and Raven could go away together, just the two of them. Yes, that would be great. No human tolerance doctrine to follow, no Magneto telling them what to do, just the two of them, together.

Logan wondered if he was doing the right thing, then realized he could do nothing to stop it. Pyro was smitten.

"Good luck, St. John. Don't turn your back on Sabertooth or Magneto."

St. John impulsively hugged him. Surprised, Logan returned it and clapped him on the back.

"I’ll keep in touch," said Pyro with a broad smile.

"Do that or I’ll come looking for you," Logan replied with a growl.

St. John watched his teacher walk away. He started on a search to find Raven, when he spotted the infamous blue woman at the edge of the woods. Now was as good a time as any to get the Mystique issue out in the open, he realized, and he approached her.

"Go ahead, say it." Mystique’s voice was low and angry. "Say your good-byes."

She had seen Logan talking with Pyro and could just imagine what the topic of conversation was.

Pyro smiled. "Why would I want to leave the best thing that’s ever happened in my life?"

Mystique blinked.

"Raven, look…" He paused. "It is Raven, isn’t it? You didn’t lie to me did you?"

Mystique shook her head.

"Good. Raven, look, I realize now that I can’t go back to the mansion. One, I can’t believe in what the Professor says anymore. I’m not so sure that humans and mutants are ready to coexist, not at the moment, and I’m not ready to forgive them even if they are. Two, I just received some very good advice from Logan. He told me that I needed to follow my instincts and my heart. He told me what you did and why. I’m glad, because I was trying to do the same for you. That means we care for each other and I want to explore that."

Mystique shivered and her form changed to the more familiar outlines of the blonde he had come to know and love.

"Is this what you want?" Her eyes were unreadable.

"No, I don’t care about the wrapping. I want the heart and mind I fell in love with. I want you." He held out his arms and watched her change back into her normal self.

She embraced him and held him tightly. Damn that Wolverine anyway. How had he known she was in love with this wet-behind-the-ears teenager? She owed him in the worst way. Someday she would have to pay him back. There was an honor code, even among thieves and murderers. She and Pyro kissed and she felt whole. This was one person who didn’t need to see her in any other form.

As they broke apart, she felt someone watching and wheeled around. It was Magneto. Surprised, she started toward him, but he held up a hand.

"It can wait, my dear. I see you are busy. I needed to talk with Wolverine anyway. Meet me at the helicopter to the north of here when you are done." With that, he glided off.

She nodded and clasped Pyro’s hand. They talked for a minute under the trees and she kissed him and sent him off to the helicopter to wait for her. She wanted to make sure Magneto was okay with this and didn’t want Pyro to overhear what her mentor might say if he wasn’t.
------

(Chapter 24)

"Watch out for the recoil." The wind whipped Scott’s words away but he felt Samuel’s head nod behind him and the young man’s arms grip his chest tighter.

Scott turned the visor to limited restriction. He didn’t like using this much power, but it was necessary. The beam was awesome. Like a skilled surgeon, Cyclops sliced a huge hole in the ground where the complex had been, using the water volume in the lake behind the dam as a guide for the depth of his cut. He then carved a channel from the dam to the hole he had created and stopped the beam. He gave Samuel a thumb’s up.

Samuel tapped his head against his shoulder to activate the comlink. "Spigot off, easy."

The dam exploded outward, precisely spilling debris to force the water into the newly created waterway. The water reacted violently at first, swirling down the hole where the complex had been in a torrential flood. It reminded Scott of a toilet being flushed and he wondered if Logan had planned this on purpose. He pointed down and Cannonball responded, putting them down at the campsite of the previous night. Kurt and Remy were already there.

"Lady J, we have a touch down," said Remy.

"Hotshot, I need you." Scott overheard Samuel’s comlink. "Easy and blue eyes, I need you to hunt for Pyro and handsome."

Scott cocked an eyebrow and Remy relayed the message. "Where are you, Lady J?"

"We’re North of you about a hundred yards. We saw eagle eyes bring the bird down, but she hasn’t come to find us yet and I’m worried. We’d fly over there but something’s wrong with Carol. I think Rogue’s trying to fight free."

Scott looked at Remy and Samuel. "Good work, you two. Now go find the others like the lady said." The two young men disappeared in the woods and Scott looked over at Kurt. "You’re with me. I guess we’d better run."

Nightcrawler grinned. "I know a faster way."

"No, wait! I think…"

They vanished in a puff of smoke.

---

Pyro shouldn’t go with her. Everything in him was screaming to protect the young man from his own folly, but Logan realized only too well just how powerful a motivator love could be. After all, he should know. He had risked everything to get her back, done things he would have hesitated to do for anyone else. Now he had come up empty. Marie was as out of reach as she had been when Stryker had her. A surge of anger and fear rushed through him. What if this was permanent? What if he couldn’t save her?

He entered a large clearing and sat on a fallen log. The ground shook beneath him and he realized the dam had been blown. His ears caught the roaring sound of the water to the south of him as it rushed to it’s new home.

Logan sighed. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He had concentrated all his energy, all his focus on getting them back, getting her back. Now he faced a new problem, one that was even worse. How could he fight an enemy he couldn’t see or touch—one that was attacking his mate from within? Marie’s skin wouldn’t even take his energy or thoughts. He couldn’t get in to help. Now how had the bitch done that?"

He smelled the metallic tang of Magneto on the wind and hatred burned in his heart. Twice the bastard had put Marie in harm’s way. He wasn’t going to get away with it this time. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

Magneto clicked his tongue reprovingly as he sank to the ground. "Is that any way to greet me? You never know, I could have come to help you."

Logan grimaced. "Help me with what? Stryker? Don’t make me laugh."

"No, not Stryker. You destroyed him without help from me. Although, now that he’s dead, you might try to find a new motivation in your life. You have eliminated only one monster that worked against our kind. Why not continue the fight?"

Logan glanced over his shoulder at Magneto but said nothing.

"You know," Magneto’s voice was smooth as silk, "a wolf like you doesn’t really belong among sheep like them. You’ll never be able to save them from their own innocence."

Logan snorted, but knew the man was right. St. John was the perfect example.

"Have you considered what this will earn you in the end, Wolverine? A pat on the back, perhaps? A medal for a job well done? Hardly likely. You strike me as a realist. You can see the folly of staying on a team that has no influence, no future. Those children will end up enslaved, with no one to protect them. They can’t take care of themselves. Xavier let them down. He abandoned them. He abandoned the team. He isn’t worth your trust."

Logan stared at Magneto with enigmatic eyes. If Scott had been there, he would have told Magneto he had just lost the battle, but Magneto read the silence as interest and he pressed on.

"I’m here to offer you a chance to sink your teeth into a battle that will ensure a future for those children. You know and I know that humans will attack those who are different. We also know how weak they really are. We can force them to accept us. We can save the children. Join the cause of the brotherhood. We can make a difference, you and I."

Logan glared. "Give it a rest. You sat on your ass for two years waiting for something like this. All you had to do was squeal and Stryker would do everything for you. You just had to be here to pick up the pieces."

Magneto smiled. "I knew you were smart. Yes, to all of it. Charles was leading the movement down the wrong path. I had to do something."

Logan smiled back but it wasn’t a nice smile. "Were the sheep getting too dangerous?"

"Something like that. I need more wolves to make humans sit up and take notice."

"And you want this particular wolf? Two years to think about it and you figure I’m the reason you lost, huh?" Logan shook his head in disbelief.

Magneto’s eyes narrowed. No wonder Stryker had wanted him back so badly. That was exactly what Magneto had come up with and he reasoned that without Wolverine, the X-Men would lose their dangerous edge. He would either kill him or bring him into the fold, Wolverine’s choice. Either way, now that Stryker was out of the picture, he could not afford to let Wolverine stay with Charles’ little group any longer. As bait he had been perfect. As an enemy he was too unpredictable and dangerous.

"It isn’t all about you," Erik countered.

"Then why are you here?" There was no answer and Logan did not expect one. This man had betrayed them all, just to further his own ambitions. "And if I say no?"

Magneto waved a hand. "Then you say no."

They looked at each other for a full minute, as all intentions became clear.

"I’d be careful if I were you," said Logan. "You can’t take down the team just by taking me out of the picture. Underestimate Cyclops and it could be your last mistake."

Magneto sighed. "I don’t want to ‘take you out of the picture’. I want to make sure you see both sides for what they really are. I’m the only future mutants have. I do what I have to do to ensure our survival."

Logan brought his hands up and slapped his palms together. He repeated this twice until Magneto understood it to be the sarcastic applause it was.

"Leave the noble crap out of this. You’re no savior, Magneto. You’re just in the business of revenge. What’s funny is you know deep down it’s the wrong thing to do. Do you know why?"

"I’m all ears," hissed Erik through clenched teeth.

Logan stood and walked over to him. He knew Erik’s background from Marie, for she had told him some of what she had absorbed. He had tried to warn Chuck before all this happened. Erik was unstable, all but gone. Logan was now face to face with Magneto, the supreme ruler of mutants, and he leaned in close to the son of a bitch to deliver his final blow before the madman killed him.

"It would break their hearts to see what their son has become."

He watched Erik’s eyes widen with shock and fear. For an instant he saw the little boy who had been ruthlessly torn from the loving embrace of his father and mother. Logan turned and began to walk away.

"I’ll never join you. You’re no better than the man who gassed them."

His forward motion was halted as a strangled cry sounded behind him. Logan felt his body leave the earth and turn slowly in the air until he was facing the now enraged Magneto.

"How dare you," Erik whispered. Then he roared, "How dare you!"

The words vibrated through Logan’s frame. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Mystique. She was the last thing he saw before the metal exploded out of his body in all directions, the sharp daggers of adamantium ripping him to shreds. Logan didn’t even have a chance to scream before pain pulled him into a state of shock and he hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Magneto gazed dispassionately at the bloody mess he had just created and let the shards of metal rain down around it. They made soft splattering noises in the newly dampened soil. Such a waste of talent; the Wolverine had been a thorn in his side, yes, but as an ally he would have been a tremendous asset. It was a loss for the Brotherhood. Magneto clenched his jaw in irritation. Charles had obviously warped yet another mind and should answer for this. He looked over at Mystique.

"Coming, my dear?"

"In a minute," she murmured. "I want to watch him die."

"As you wish." He began to float toward the trees. "We’ll leave in a few minutes. By all means, bring that charming young man you were with earlier."

"I will."

---

Logan could feel his life flowing from him. The pain was fading now and he involuntarily shivered at the numbness that followed it. Death was hovering nearby. There was so much he still wanted to do; so much he still wanted to say to Marie. There would never be a future with her now, no more love, no more laughing, no more walks in the moonlight. He was alone and dying, his blood draining into the ground beneath him. Sadness clutched at his heart.

A silken touch cooled his brow and he fought to open his eyes. Blearily he tried to focus on the beautiful face in front of him. Two dark eyes framed by streaks of white hair, soft pouting lips of red; it was Marie. Vainly he struggled to open his mouth and tell her how much he loved her, how much he wanted her to understand that he didn’t want to leave her. Nothing came out.

He heard a soft southern whisper, "It’s okay, sugar. Ah love you, too."

Logan’s eyes closed peacefully and the lacerated muscles around his mouth managed a small smile. She knew him. She cared. She understood. A sigh of happiness escaped him, his final breath.

Mystique looked down at the broken, tattered body at her feet.

"Now we’re even. Go to hell."
------

(Chapter 25)

Samuel and Remy searched through the woods, staying in sight of one another as they looked for their teammate. Remy spotted a figure up ahead and gave a sharp whistle. Sam trotted over through the underbrush.

"What’s up?"

"Guette-la*, I see the blue bitch. Watch yourself. We don’t know if she is still in the mood to help us now that she has freed smokey." Remy was grim.

"She’s alone. I would have bet anything Pyro was with her, since we haven’t found him yet."

They stood still and waited for her to approach.

"Go back to your master, boys. Pyro’s with me now." Mystique spoke with clipped, formal tones.

Immediately they sensed something was up.

"Mind letting us through so we can see for ourselves?" Samuel crossed his arms and mentally made a note of how fast he could take her down if needed.

Remy flipped a card around in his fingers. "I think she will. We just want to make sure our mechant ami** is all right."

"He’s fine. Leave it alone."

"Menti," Remy spat.

"That’s Cajun for ‘liar’," drawled Samuel.

"I told you to go back for your own good. Suit yourself." She shrugged and started to leave. "I just want you to know I had nothing to do with it."

The two young men glanced at each other’s puzzled expressions then sprinted forward. The clearing ahead of them revealed its grisly sight. They stopped, shocked by what they saw.

"Mon Dieu!***"

"Oh my God!"

* Watch it

** naughty friend

***My God

---

They made it to the jet. Scott helped Jean up the ramp while Kurt supported Bobby and a silent Carol followed, carrying her own body.

"Sit here, Jean." She reached out and found the seat. "Iceman, you sit here."

Legs still shaky, Bobby did as he was told.

Scott looked around. "Where’s Storm?"

The cockpit was empty. Scott scrambled down the ramp and circled around to the other side of the jet. Damn. There she was, out cold in the grass. He felt her legs, arms and neck and checked her eyes. His hand came away sticky from the back of her head and he spotted the weapon. It was a piece of metal off the wing. Scott looked up and was astonished. The wing was twisted; bent at such an angle that it would never fly. He could picture what had happened. Ororo must have heard it and rushed outside to check, only to be cold-cocked on her skull. Magneto was the only one who could have done it. Where was he now, though?

In the distance, he saw a helicopter rise above the tree line and veer off sharply. If it was Magneto, he was gone now. Scott glanced around and picked up Ororo. He carried her up the ramp and into the back of the jet, placing her on the unoccupied medical cot, beside Danvers' body. They had to get out of here now, but how? Maybe he and Logan could rig something or find some other transportation. He made his way to the cockpit and checked the tracer array. Remy and Samuel were close by and not moving. Hopefully they had found Logan and St. John.

"I’ll be back. Don’t move." Scott ran down the ramp and headed for the woods.

---

Scott strode through the forest as fast as he could manage, his mind whirling with the jet’s damage. They needed to get going and he had to collect the rest of the team and see what they could do. That wing had to be replaced or repaired and fast and he was going to need help to fix it. Someone was running up to him and he stopped, startled by the sight of Remy. Gambit was no longer wearing the overcoat, his jacket or his shirt and he was spattered with mud.

"Vite! Viens avec moi!*"

Scott started to reply. "Gambit, speak English. What happ…"

Remy ran up, grabbed his leader by the wrist, and jerked hard, trying frantically to pull Cyclops back the way he had come. His grip slipped and he reached and clamped down on Scott’s forearm but not before Scott saw what appeared to be blood on his palm.

"Gambit, who’s hurt?" Scott dug in his heels, trying to make the young man slow down.

Remy looked over his shoulder and Scott now saw the tears. "Vite!"

Scott began to run.

Panting, they entered the clearing and Remy released his arm as he dashed forward. Scott faltered and sucked in a breath.

"Oh my God!"

He dashed forward, too, and slid to a seated position in the mud next to Remy. Samuel was also missing his shirt and jacket. His upper torso was smeared in mud and blood and he was giving CPR to Logan. At least, Scott thought it was Logan. He could only see the man’s head, but, if that was any indication of what the rest of him looked like, Logan was in serious trouble. His scalp and facial features were shredded almost beyond recognition. Scott felt something hard under his knee and picked it up. It was a shard of adamantium. His fingers clenched angrily around the metal. It looked like the jet wasn’t the only victim of Magneto’s power.

"We tried to give him mouth-to-mouth before but the air kept leaking out." Samuel wiped his eyes with the back of his shaking hand as Remy took over the resuscitation efforts. "We crossed his arms over his chest to hold it in and wrapped the overcoat around him, then we tore our shirts into strips to tie the coat tight to him. The bleeding has stopped and he seems to be holding the air now, but I can’t tell if his heart’s beating."

Logan looked like a big black mummy. His head was resting on one of the jackets as a pillow and the other jacket elevated his feet.

"Just breathe for him. Most of the time he only needs air. Every time you push on his chest you could be doing more damage." Scott racked his brains for any ideas and then saw the small trees on the edge of the clearing.

He fired his visor, cutting two small saplings down. Getting up, he quickly stripped off his jacket and shirt, then ran and grabbed the two trees and began to make a travois with woven branches reinforced with strips from his T-shirt. The three of them managed to gently place Logan’s body on it and cover him with Scott’s jacket. They dragged it toward the Blackbird, moving as fast as they could, with each person taking turns to trot along side and breathe for Logan.

"Do you think Jean can help him?" Samuel said with a trembling voice. "I’ve never seen…I mean he’s so badly hurt. He’s not healing."

"Jean can’t help him," Scott said grimly. "She’s blind. It’s up to us."

The rest of the trip to the jet was made in silence.

*Quick! Come with me!

---

"Would it help if I got out and pushed?"

Scott turned to look at Carol. She had meant it as a snide remark, but he took it one step further.

"Could you carry this jet?"

"Sure."

"Why couldn’t you fly earlier?"

Carol frowned. "She was mad at me for touching him. She began to fight me and I couldn’t concentrate. She’s still mad."

Scott took this to mean that Rogue was asserting herself now that Logan was near. "Can she see what’s going on?"

"If I let her."

He grabbed her hand and took her to the back of the jet where Logan lay on the floor. Samuel, Remy, and Bobby were taking turns giving him mouth to mouth.

"Show her this," he said grimly.

Carol seemed to stiffen. Scott then led her outside and showed her the damaged wing of the jet.

"Show her this." Again Carol stiffened. "Make her understand that I need you to carry us back to the mansion. Can you do that?"

Carol/Rogue’s eyes seemed to glaze for a moment. Then she nodded. He handed her a comlink

"I’ll tell you where to go."

When he was back inside and the ramp had been closed, the ‘bird shook and silently rose into the air. Scott bowed his head, rubbing his fingers on his temples. A hand touched his shoulder and he looked up.

"I should give him Last Rites." Kurt’s face was full of concern.

"No!" Scott realized he had shouted and toned down his reaction. "I’m sorry, Kurt. Any other prayers but Last Rites would be appreciated."

Kurt nodded and sat back down in the copilot’s seat.

(Lover, what’s going on? You’re so upset it’s scaring me.)

Scott sighed. (Jean, Logan’s been badly hurt. Magneto ripped all the metal out of him and he’s only hanging on by a thread.)

She was shocked but stayed calm. (That’s not all is it?)

(No. Ororo’s been hurt. Magneto knocked her unconscious when he tore up the wing of the Blackbird.)

She was mentally trembling now. (Anything else?)

(Yes. I just had to ask Rogue to keep letting that bitch stay in her head so she could fly us back home.)

(Oh, Scott. I’m sorry. I’m sure it was the right thing to do.)

(It didn’t feel like it. Now I have to face the fact that the Professor is missing and needs to be rescued. Damn it, Jean. I’m failing them.)

(Not from what I feel. They have faith in you. So do I.)

An hour or so later, the jet neared the mansion. They were far enough up that they couldn’t be spotted in the clouds and there was no engine noise to give them away, but Scott was loathe to put down in the hangar for fear the police were still watching the grounds.

(Scott. Look at me.)

Scott turned and looked at Jean and realized she was smiling.

(Go ahead and land. Xavier’s inside Cerebro. Magneto trapped him there once he used the Professor to find out where we were. Xavier has ‘frozen’ the guards. They won’t see us land.)

Scott felt a small part of his burden lift off his shoulders. Xavier was okay at least. Maybe he could get Carol to open Cerebro’s doors since one of his blasts might hurt the Professor, he thought as he activated the hangar doors. He relayed the message to Carol and the plane began to descend rapidly.
------

(Chapter 26)

"Un-fucking-believable."

Amber turned her head from studying the wall. "We stay here long enough and you’ll become quite a potty mouth, Chiquita."

Fuerte glared at her. "I’m a cop. That already gives me a license to be a potty mouth when I need to be."

"No, you’re a fed and you’re right, this is un-fucking-believable."

They had been in the little gray room for hours, waiting for the Secret Service to ‘process’ their story.

During the first hour, the ladies had found out that the door was locked. After the third hour they had found out that potty breaks were few and far between. When the tenth hour had come and gone, they had to get nasty in order to get some food. Now they were nodding off and both believed that a bed was out of the question.

"I’d flip you for the table," said Amber, "but since they’ve confiscated everything we had, I don’t have a coin. I’m shorter so I could put some of these chairs together and you can have the table, what do you think?"

Fuerte studied the rickety table and the four chairs. "You’re smaller. You weigh less. Take the table."

They stood and began to rearrange the room when the door opened. The same two young men came in and Fuerte groaned, anticipating more inane questions. This time, though, an older gentleman followed them into the room. He closed the door and started to speak.

"Ladies, I feel we must ask more questions…" he broke off when he took a good look at Amber.

Amber smiled in a wicked way. "Why ‘John’, how nice to see you. How’s the family? Does your wife still take those out of town trips?" Her voice was syrupy sweet.

He blushed a deep red and began to stammer a reply but Amber didn’t give him time to get his feet back underneath him before she lit into him with a fury.

"You’d better get your head outta your ass and take this young lady seriously! If you don’t, I’ll start throwing some stones, if you get my meaning!"

"Now see here!"

"No, you see here." Her tone dropped and became more deadly. "I wasn’t going to set foot in this city anymore unless it was for a damned good reason. This is a damned good reason, ‘John’. I’m not kidding and neither is she. This is legitimate. The President is in danger and you’ve got to get going and save his ass or I’ll bring you down the hard way and you know I can do it, too."

For such a tiny woman, thought Fuerte, Amber was extremely dangerous. The man had gone pale and it was plain to see that he didn’t want to upset Amber anymore than she was already.

"You give your word this is legitimate?"

"Yes, it’s fucking legitimate and my word is worth a hell of a lot more than yours is. Come on, we’ve wasted enough time in this place. Either get with the program or let us out so we can call someone who is."

"Just what do you mean by that remark?" One of the younger men began his smarmy questioning tone again.

"Young man, I’ve had enough shit out of you." The shaking finger made him back up. "Come on, Fuerte. We’re leaving and no one’s gonna stop us. We’ll call up Handsome and really get some help. Where’s my purse?"

The other young man started forward but ‘John’ held up a hand. "She’s right. Her word is better than mine." He turned to Amber. "We’ve already called the White House and secured the President. I never said we didn’t take you seriously." He was trying his best to calm her down.

"You didn’t take him out of the White House, though, ‘John’. He’s a sitting duck. Get him outta there." She strode to the door and shook the knob fiercely. "Open this door, now!"

The three men jumped to comply and Fuerte stifled a laugh. All it takes to shake a government up or bring it to its knees is one determined woman who knows where all the skeletons are.

---

They kicked down the door, guns at the ready. Expecting trouble, all they found was a man on his knees scrubbing the foyer floor. He was obviously startled and slowly stood up, hands in the air.

"Don’t move. You’re under arrest!" the lead officer stated.

"On what charge?"

"Breaking and entering and violating a crime scene for starters. Get down on your knees, cross your ankles and place your hands on top of your head."

The man complied amiably, if not awkwardly. "I live here. How can I be breaking and entering if I live here? And what do you mean by violating a crime scene? I’m cleaning up a mess from some vandals."

"Do you have any identification? Can anyone confirm that you live here?" The arresting officer gripped the man’s hands with one of his and holstered his gun with the other. He put the cuffs on and helped the alleged perpetrator to his feet, patted him down, and found a wallet with an ID in the man’s back pocket.

"He can." The man nodded at one of the officers.

The arresting officer looked up from the ID. "Is this true, Sawyer?"

The young officer blushed. "Yes, sir. I took a report from him a couple of days ago."

The Sergeant looked abashed. "You did what? What report?" He motioned to the others and they holstered their weapons.

"Their school got a threatening letter."

"My name is Scott Summers. I filed a report with this officer three days ago when the school received a letter stating that the children who attend classes here were going to be killed if we didn’t close the school. We sent the students on an unscheduled field trip with some of the teachers and the rest of the faculty, including myself, took short vacations. I was supposed to be back earlier today but my car broke down. I managed to hike up the parkway and found the burned woods and followed the damage back to the school.

Look, officer, I’ve got to get this place cleaned up. Those children are going to be back next week. That doesn’t give me much time." Scott cocked his head, waiting for the response.

"Mr. Summers, my name is Sergeant Patranella. I was unaware of the threat against the school. All I know is we received a 9-1-1 call here night before last and we responded and found the woods on fire and the school sealed up. When we forced our way in looking for the caller, we found blood, and lots of it, staining this floor. We assumed that…"

"Oh, it’s blood. No wonder I’m not having any luck getting it up."

"Can’t you see?"

Scott sighed. "Childhood accident, my eyes were…damaged. These glasses help, but I can’t see colors anymore. I just saw stains and started cleaning."

Patranella frowned. "And since you hiked in from the back, you didn’t see the police tape out front and the guard didn’t see you until the door and window shutters went up."

"Yes, they were installed by the previous owner. We had an alarm company come out not long ago and rewire them to come down if there was a break in security. Obviously those creeps got in and had plenty of time to shoot up the place and pour all this crap on the floor before the shutters reacted. Did the alarm go off at all?" Scott sighed when the officers shook their heads. "I guess we’ll bring suit against them, then."

"I’m sure Officer Sawyer already asked you this," Patranella glared at his subordinate as he undid the handcuffs on Scott’s wrists, "but I need to know if you have any idea who may have done this." He handed Scott his wallet and ID.

"I didn’t then," said Scott, "but I do now. We hired an investigative agency to look into this. The report’s over there."

Patranella walked over to a table against a wall. He spotted the keys, dusty overnight bag, and a large manila envelope, just what he would expect to see if the man’s story were true. He flipped through the report, startled by what he saw. A few minutes later he looked up at Scott.

"Mr. Summers, I must tell you that the blood in here was human blood. If I hadn’t just read in this report you received that these people had broken into morgues in the state next to us, I would say that you had violated a crime scene. We were looking for the young woman who called 9-1-1 when we cut through one of the metal shutters and found all this blood. From the way that back shutter was damaged, we figured that was their escape. Now we know why there were so many blood types and no bodies. They must have poured out the blood they stole."

"What woman? No one was left here, I assure you. We were all too concerned for our safety to let anyone stay. Did the call come from inside the school?"

"No. It was from a cell phone. I suppose they duped us there, too."

"Too?" Scott raised his eyebrows.

"We had thought the military trucks that appeared on the scene were legitimate. Later, when we contacted the local base we learned they had never sent any troops our way. It seems, according to your report, this group has stolen or bought military equipment and use it as a cover. We caught them at the scene of the crime and didn’t realize it. I’m sorry, sir. We had no idea." He held up the file. "May I have this?"

"Here," Scott held out his hand. "I can Xerox that right now and let you have the copies. If I give you that one, it’ll cost me sixty-five dollars to get another official file from the agency and I already had to fork that over once when I gave a copy to the FBI."

"The FBI?" Sawyer whistled then remembered the trouble he was in and shut up.

"Why did you give a copy of this to the FBI?" Patranella was curious.

"Our lawyer insisted on it when he found out. It seems this group was a supremacist group that operated in several states. Now they are into genetic superiority. You know, they attack mutants with hate crimes."

The four officers shuddered slightly and several hands went to their guns again. "Are you mutants?"

Scott snorted. "I’m sure we look like mutants. When you have children who’s I.Q.s are in the 130’s and 140’s, you can expect them to act a little weird. We teach their minds. We don’t care if they die their hair blue or wear neon-colored contact lenses. Sometimes I could swear they are trying to outdo each other."

The other men visibly relaxed. Patranella chuckled.

"To tell you the truth, it sounds like the high school down the road."

"Kids are kids wherever you go." Scott held up his hands in a helpless gesture. "What can you do?"

Patranella put the report back on the table. "If the FBI’s looking into it, we don’t need to worry. Just send us a copy tomorrow so we can close our file on this."

There was a rap on the broken door and a pizza delivery person tentatively entered.

"Did someone order a pizza?"

"I did," Scott raised a hand and fished for his wallet. He grinned sheepishly. "I couldn’t find anything to eat in the refrigerator."

When everyone had left, Scott walked down the hall to the kitchen, carrying the pizza. Charles looked up as he entered and put the cardboard box down on the counter.

"You should teach acting," he said.

Scott shrugged. "Just so long as they were convinced."

"Yes they were and I commend you again on your foresight."

"Some foresight. My team is in shambles and our home is a bloody wreak."

"It could be worse, Scott."

"Professor, let’s put it into perspective. Logan’s down, maybe permanently. Jean could be blind for the rest of her life. Ororo’s still out. Bobby nearly killed himself. The jet is toast. Magneto’s loose and we can’t determine what he’s up to because Cerebro’s out of commission. St. John is in the hands of the Brotherhood and Rogue has been taken over by this ‘Carol’ person. Have I left anything out?"

"No," said Xavier softly. He could almost see the wheels turning in Scott’s head and he waited patiently for the optimistic young man to come to grips with the situation.

Scott sighed and sat for a moment then he quietly opened the box and took out a slice of pizza. "We’ll need a plan of attack. First we have to secure this place. Sam and Remy can do that. At the same time, I’ll use ‘Carol’s’ strength and the spare parts we have to repair the ‘bird. I just hope Rogue can forgive me for using her like this. It should take a day or two. That’ll give Jean, Ororo, and Bobby a chance to rest and heal. We’ll see how it goes from there."
------

(Chapter 27)

By the end of the first day, Remy and Samuel had repaired the damaged metal shutters on the front and back door. They had also put up a temporary barbed-wire fence and a remote sensor in the woods near the Parkway so no one could sneak up on the mansion via the route Logan took to escape.

Scott and Carol managed to get the wing into some semblance of working order. Scott cursed himself for asking Rogue to let Carol help, but he had no choice. He was in the hangar late that night, repairing the electrical wiring and trying to get the ‘skin’ of the wing securely fastened when Jean walked in.

"Scott."

"Just a second. I’ve almost got this done." He finished and turned around. "Yes?"

"You need a shower."

He frowned. His clothes were covered with grease, as were his hands and face, but he still had a lot to do.

"I know, but I want to finish…" He stared and dropped his tools, grabbing her in a crushing hug. "You can see!"

"You’re a sight for sore eyes, you know that?" Jean grinned and returned the hug.

He pulled away. "Have you had a chance to look at Logan yet?"

She nodded. "He’s breathing on his own now so I disconnected the respirator. There wasn’t much more I could have done. His students saved his life. That was some quick thinking with the raincoat and T-shirts. I cut away all of it and managed to clean the wounds with Kurt’s help. I’m just afraid this is more than even his body can heal. I’ll know more in the morning, but I keep thinking about that blood sample we talked about…"

Scott shook his head and told her everything he had heard Stryker say in the lab before Logan shot him. She had to sit down on a stool, her anger evident in her clenched fists.

"He was nothing but a butcher!" She tentatively reached for him. "Thank God he didn’t have a chance to start to work on you." Scott bent over to pick up his tools and she gasped. "Hold it. Let me see your scalp." Puzzled, he stepped over and let her look. "Scott, we need to get you into the lab."

They walked in and found Kurt serving meals to Ororo and Bobby.

"No one was taking the time to eat, so I found the kitchen and started cooking. Would someone else like a snack?" his tail twitched behind him and he disappeared. In an instant he was back with two plates of food. "Here. Eat and take a break."

"Thanks, Kurt." Scott took a plate and sat down.

Jean sat Kurt down and began to look over his scalp, too. "As I thought, you have a small scar."

A magnifying glass flew into her hand and she studied the injury again, depressing her finger on the spot. She moved over to Scott and did the same thing.

"Ow. That hurts. What are you looking at?"

"I need x-rays, gentlemen. I suspect Stryker put something inside your skulls."

Scott lost his appetite. "We’ll need to check Rogue and Bobby, too."

A few hours later, she held up the chips for everyone to see. "I believe these were part of the controlling device. It’s a receiver of some kind."

"Oh, shit. One of those is in Pyro," Bobby said slowly. "They told me they had chipped him. Now I know what they meant."

"And he’s with Mystique, which means he’s with Magneto. Magneto could kill him by simply stirring that chip around in his brain." Scott shook his head. "The minute he tries to leave them, Magneto will do it, I’m sure of it."

"Scott, we don’t know that." Xavier tried to be the voice of reason in a now panic-filled room.

"Look at what he did to Logan, Professor. Why should he be any kinder to Pyro?"

---

"You are a god among men." Magneto strode through the halls of his rocky palace with Pyro and Mystique in tow. "Never forget that. Humans certainly won’t. They fear any threat to their existence."

Pyro swallowed hard. This was a far different atmosphere than he was used to. The rhetoric was thick and forced down his throat at every opportunity. He put up with it to be near Raven. When they were alone, it was wonderful. When they were with Magneto she was someone else, Mystique. Logan was right about Sabertooth, too. The huge man prowled around, hunting for any weakness. It took a few sessions with singed eyebrows to teach the big moron that Pyro meant fire.

As they reached Magneto’s huge chamber, it became apparent that this was some sort of strategy meeting. Sabertooth was already there, waiting like a dog on a leash for his master. Then Pyro realized he was, too. They all were. Magneto was pulling the strings and they were jumping. How had this happened? He looked over at Mystique and saw her smile warmly, but not at him. This was the killer part of her, something he had never touched and he had a sudden insight into a major difference between Logan and Mystique. Logan loved Rogue with a passion that went to his soul. Mystique never let anything get past that last deadly reserve.

His ears heard everything that Magneto was saying and it chilled his heart. The plan was to show up the President, humiliate him in front of the Middle East summit meeting. Damn, he had to get to a computer and fast. When the meeting was over, he made an excuse and left.

Mystique stayed behind with Magneto.

"Isn’t this a bit open, even for you?" She eyed him warily.

Magneto grinned. "We shouldn’t have to hide, my dear. We belong on this planet. We were born here. They will have to accept us sooner or later. You are correct, though. I plan to use this opportunity to crush the remaining X-Men or pull them into the fold."

"How will they know…?" She looked around and remembered that her lover had made a hasty exit. She felt her heart clench with worry.

"They’ll know."

---

Bobby ran for the lab. Panting as he burst through the doors, he held up his phone. They could all see the message he had just received:

DC tonight Prez do my best to stop P

They stared at Bobby.

"It’s St. John. That’s how he used to send me messages: location, time, subject, and intention, signed with a P."

Scott grabbed the phone. "It couldn’t be. Would Magneto really take out the President?"

"No, he wouldn’t kill him, but he would prove to the world that the head of this government was weak, especially if he could do it in a grand way," Charles said softly. "He doesn’t realize, he just doesn’t realize there’s a better way. If we could only…"

Scott’s head came up sharply from reading the message and he focused all his attention on Xavier.

"That summit meeting is scheduled for tonight. It was to be at Camp David, but they changed plans and are having it at the White House." Jean shook her head. "What should we do?"

"We are going to do what we need to do to stop him." Scott’s face was still turned toward Xavier. "Something we should have done a long time ago."

Scott handed the phone back to Bobby and walked over to one of the beds at the back of the lab. Logan looked quite normal now. In fact, he looked like he was simply sleeping.

"He is still in a coma, Scott."

Scott stared at the man on the bed. He had been so right, about a lot of things.

"Thank you for telling me, Professor." Scott’s voice was extremely formal. "Iceman, tell the others to be in the Ready Room in five minutes."

Bobby vacated the room in a hurry. Xavier started to follow Jean and Storm as they made their exit but Scott turned and called to him.

"Just a minute, Professor."

Xavier frowned. "Scott, I think we can drop that tone…"

"I don’t know who is the bigger idiot, you or me. We’ve both been blind and the trouble is we both were given the opportunity to see what would happen if we didn’t wise up. Neither of us could, apparently."

"I don’t understand."

"Logan is a very sharp person. He told me some things before we left on our trip to that prison. He said he had always wondered how Magneto had known exactly how to trap us on the Statue of Liberty. He wondered just how much a specialized prison to house an extremely dangerous mutant would cost and who could afford it. He wondered if you were capable of turning a blind eye toward your friend, ignoring dangers that would put your family in jeopardy. He wondered just what it would take to show you that Eric is gone and Magneto is here to stay. He told me to watch out at the prison. He said that Erik would betray you.

"He did betray you, didn’t he? I remember that warning you sent from Magneto’s cell. You forced these words into my head: he was right, it’s a trap, save the children. I thought at the time that Magneto tried to warn you, but the ‘he’ in this case was Logan, wasn’t it? Erik proved to you that he couldn’t be trusted yet, even now, you want so badly to believe that you can turn him around you are willing to alter our mission to that purpose. Aren’t you?"

Xavier was speechless.

"I couldn’t believe that you were capable of a human flaw, an Achilles’ heel. To me, you have always been the father figure, the mentor, and the perfect teacher capable of always making the right decision, no matter what affected you personally. I’m sorry I put you up on that pedestal, Professor. That was unfair and unwise. You’re only human and he was your best friend."

"Scott, I never…" Xavier started.

"Professor, please don’t attend this meeting. Don’t ‘listen in’ on what our plans will be. You’re too close, too involved. Just do me a favor and stay here with Logan. Let me know when he comes out of that coma." Scott walked to the door and stopped. "I still consider you a father, a mentor, and a teacher and I always will. I’ll just try to skip the rose-colored glasses part from now on."

---

"Come away with me." St. John was pleading with Raven. "We don’t have to do this. We can go anywhere."

"Then we can go to D.C."

"I mean…Look, Raven, I love you. I know you love me. When we are together, it’s wonderful. But, you aren’t giving me everything. I love you, the whole person. I don’t care what you’ve done in the past."

She gazed into his eyes with her cold yellow ones. "You look normal, St. John. I don’t. I was afraid to go to school as a child. I taught myself to fight and I’m damn good at it. Killing those who stand in my way is easy. You’re right, I care for you. You do make the world seem like a better place, but it’s not is it, not for people like me. Magneto wants to change that. I do, too."

She knew the punishment for betrayal in the Brotherhood, but she also knew that Magneto had used him on purpose. She steeled herself for Magneto’s verdict either way and dropped a curtain of reserve around her feelings for the teenager. If he lived, maybe she could change him. If he died, well, she swallowed hard, she would survive.

St. John knew he was being pushed away and hung his head. This was harder than he thought. It was supposed to work out. She was supposed to love him as much as he loved her. He was supposed to save her soul. She just didn’t want to be saved yet. He absently flicked his lighter and flipped it closed. All this power and he couldn’t do a damn thing right. Some god among men he was.

---

Xavier concentrated his mental abilities on the man lying before him. He did not hear the others as they approached and they waited for him to relax and come back to their world before they spoke.

"We want you to come with us."

Charles looked up at Scott in surprise.

"We need you. None of us wants to kill Magneto."

"I’m grateful…" Charles began.

"Don’t say that, not yet." Scott was firm. "He is not going to be put back in a prison. That was not a good solution to the problem, even though it let you keep your friend. We are going to take his helmet off and ask that you wipe his mind."

Xavier was silent.

"We don’t want to kill him, professor," said Storm softly. "This is the only way."

(You know Scott’s right. You can’t let Erik suffer like this and cause pain and death to millions. You have to make a choice between your dream and your former friend.) Jean’s eyes were wet with emotion.

Scott knelt in front of his mentor. "If there had been any other choice…"

Charles held out a hand and placed it on Scott’s shoulder. "No, Scott. Don’t doubt yourself. You are right in this; I just didn’t want to see it. Now that I have read Logan’s mind, it only makes sense. I swore I would never do that to another human, but I can’t look the other way on this, not anymore."

"What was in Logan’s mind, Professor?" Ororo drew closer, as did the others.

Charles looked at the six X-Men in front of him and smiled. "Magneto, not Erik, decided that we were a danger to his cause and the best way to destroy us would be to take away Logan. He feels Logan is the most dangerous member of the team, the only one who will kill or make sacrifices without hesitation. He gave Logan a chance to join the Brotherhood but Logan chose not to betray his family. He also warned Magneto not to underestimate the opposition." Xavier gazed for a long moment at Scott. "He had faith that we would be able to take Magneto down, with or without his help.

"Logan tried to get through to Erik by reminding him of where he came from. It was his death sentence. Erik wasn’t strong enough to fight the madness and Magneto took Logan apart." Voice shaking, Xavier stopped for a moment. "The friend I knew is gone-he never would have done that to another living being. We have to deal with Magneto, for the good of the world."

Scott nodded and rose, leaving the room for a few minutes. When he came back, he was carrying a gallon of milk and was followed by Carol and Kurt. He put the milk on the table beside Logan and scribbled a few words on a sheet of paper, which he rolled up and tucked in the handle. Then he turned to the two mutants.

"Kurt, you’ll come with us and stay by the Professor. If there is any danger, teleport him out of the jet and to the nearest safe place. Got it?" Kurt nodded and Scott turned to Carol/Rogue. "I need you to stay here with Wolverine. When he wakes up, take him where he needs to go."

Scott paused and glanced over at Carol’s body. It was on the other lab table and had recovered beautifully with a little medical attention from Jean. The problem was, the consciousness of the woman was still locked in the head of Rogue. Scott shook his head.

"Carol, please don’t talk to Wolverine about his past, not until he’s finished what he needs to do, all right?"

"I’ve waited years. Maybe one more day won’t matter too much." Carol sat on a stool. "How long will it be?"

Scott looked at Charles, who responded with, "He’s sleeping, now. It could be minutes or hours before he wakes up."

Scott shrugged. "We need to leave shortly. Let’s hope it’s minutes." He started to walk out the door but was stopped by Gambit.

"Cyclops, the milk, what is it for?"

Scott gave a grim smile. "He doesn’t say when he’s been hurt on a mission, but I’ve noticed that if Wolverine’s been in a fight, he grabs a glass of milk afterward. It must help his body recover, I don’t know. He never talks about it and I’ve never asked him. Let’s just say this is my way of telling him that I appreciate what he did against Magneto."
------

(Chapter 28)

St. John sat in the back of the helicopter with Sabertooth while Raven and Magneto sat up front. He switched from watching Mystique pilot the craft to looking out the window. There was no choice to make anymore, really. If Magneto succeeded in hurting the President the world would come crashing down on them, all of them. He would have to make his move when they landed, holding them at bay with a ring of fire until the X-Men could arrive.

He felt a small pain in his head and put it down to the headache of the situation. It began to get worse and he rubbed his temples to try to ease the throb in his skull. A minute later his hands dropped and his eyes remained open. The blood that had begun to trickle out of his nose stopped.

Mystique glanced back, saw the pallor of death in her lover’s features, and closed her eyes for a moment before turning back to her job at hand. So the verdict had been death. She kept Magneto in her peripheral vision, waiting for an explanation.

"It was kinder this way."

She nodded and said nothing.

---

She had taken a short break to prowl around and grab a snack from the kitchen. This felt so weird. Part of her knew what she was doing was wrong, borrowing someone else’s body, but the other part, the stronger part, wanted to live and put an end to a nightmare. Carol could feel Rogue. The young woman was strong and would occasionally slip through, especially if she relaxed her guard. Carol would use the horrible images in her past to flood the other mind with debilitating memories, ones that Rogue couldn’t seem to deal with. They had to do with Wolverine. Speaking of which, he should be waking up soon.

She walked back down to the lab. When she entered, she saw only her body. The gallon of milk was empty and the note was gone. Frantic, she checked the bathroom and started to run down the hall when a man appeared around the corner.

His hair was short, cut in a neat military style, and his face was clean-shaven. He wore a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants that clung to his impressive form. With moccasins on his feet he silently approached her, his every movement speaking with an animal-like grace. In his hands was a thick oak staff about six feet long and he absently swung it as he walked.

"Are you ready?" growled a hoarse voice she did not recognize.

"Wolverine?"

His step faltered slightly at the lack of Southern accent. "We need to fly to D.C. Now. I have some unfinished business I need to take care of."

They walked out on the back lawn and he let her get close enough to put her arm around him, although she thought she saw a grimace in his stone-like face.

"Can we talk on the way?" She knew Cyclops didn’t want her to, but this might be the only chance she had to get him alone.

"About what?"

"I need you to forgive me. I want to know that you won’t hate me for what I didn’t do. I watched them torture you and I didn’t do anything to help you. I’m so sorry."

"Look, ‘Carol’, you’re talking about a past I can’t remember." He stiff-armed her away from him. "It means nothing to me. You want absolution, go to a priest."

"But you hate me. I can see it in your eyes."

"You talk about forgiveness and how you didn’t do anything to help me when I was being tortured in the past. Well, take a good look at what you’re doing right now. You’re in the body of my woman and won’t let me hug her or talk to her, share my love with her or be with her. If that’s not torture, I don’t know what is." He pinned her with a steely glare. "We need to get going, ‘Carol’. My teammates are counting on me for a diversion."

She cried as she put her arms around his waist and lifted them into the evening sky.

---

The part of him that was Erik knew Charles was in the vicinity. All humans had ceased fighting him; they had frozen in place. He looked to his left and saw the six black-clad sheep walking side-by-side up the dimly lit Mall toward him. He faced forward again. The White House was within reach, he could just see the lights of it down this grassy offshoot from the Mall, but he wanted to prove himself against these idiots. Force them to see that he had their best interest at heart. If they didn’t see his side, well, they could always share Wolverine’s fate. He turned to greet them and signaled Mystique and Sabertooth to join him.

---

The Mall looked like a war zone. Upended tanks, dumpsters, and cars were everywhere. The remnants of a storm thundered in the night sky overhead and there were scorch marks in the earth where lightning had touched down. Logan picked his way carefully through the debris.

The first two he spotted were Cannonball and Sabertooth. Samuel must have slammed the big man into the side of the red brick Smithsonian building at the edge of the Mall. When the load of bricks collapsed pinning Sabertooth, Cannonball must have relaxed his control on his mutation and was knocked out by some stray falling bricks.

Iceman was next on his journey to Magneto and must have been sucker-punched yet again by a tricky Mystique. He could hear Ororo’s rapid heartbeat underneath a dumpster he passed and he fought the urge to free her. She was claustrophobic, he knew, but he had to pretend he didn’t see anyone or anything around him but the helmeted madman that faced him. Remy must have tried to free her. He was slumped on the other side of the dumpster, blood trickling from a wound on his scalp. There was Mystique, sprawled in the open on the grass. Scott must have blasted her off her feet. He must have done some damage to Magneto as well for the man was panting and holding his shoulder.

Cyclops and Jean were pinned under an upturned car. He could see Scott’s head and shoulders twisting awkwardly from under the trunk. Jean was less visible behind him and Logan reasoned that Scott must have tried to protect her from the blow.

All this he saw out of his peripheral vision for his eyes were locked on Erik and Erik’s on him.

Magneto eyed the staff in Logan’s hand. "You would take me on one on one, human? Or are you a mutant?"

Logan smiled. Magneto didn’t recognize him, as planned. If he did, he would have used the others as hostages and that’s exactly what Logan was trying to avoid.

"Just call me David," he said hoarsely.

Now Magneto smiled. "That would make me Goliath. How quaint."

Small metal objects began to whistle around him but Logan didn’t flinch as he moved closer.

"You’re either very brave or very stupid," murmured Magneto.

"Try insane."

Logan ducked just in time and dodged, flipping himself in an impressive arc in the air. Without the metal to hold him down, he was extremely nimble. He flipped the staff around and deflected a deadly trashcan. The gauntlet only became worse and Logan was on a razor’s edge of awareness, meeting every obstacle or dodging it.

"So far I’m intrigued." Erik waived a hand and heavier menaces loomed around his opponent.

The more Magneto focused solely on him, the less Logan hoped he would see going on around him. It was an extremely dangerous game of cat and mouse.

"I have other pressing concerns. Please forgive me if I put an end to this amusement."

A tank came whistling through the air and Logan braced himself. They were both caught off guard when a strangled cry came from the trees and a small female flew toward it, smashing into it and deflecting it away from Logan. The woman and the tank tumbled to the ground. Both men looked back at each other.

"It can’t be! I killed you!" Magneto had seen the streak of white in the young woman’s hair and guessed whom she would protect so dearly.

"To quote your hairball friend, ‘you can’t kill me’. I just keep on living."

Logan pole-vaulted forward and crouched, whipping the staff in a low arc that dumped Magneto on his ass. Magneto clumsily rolled around and staggered to his feet with his hand up and fingers splayed. There was nothing to pull.

"You did that already, try again." Logan was vicious now, descending on his prey without mercy.

Magneto stretched forth his power in earnest, hurling everything he could at the man before him. What did hit Logan seemed to make no impression for he healed in an instant.

"It’s faster now without the metal. I’ll give you a choice. You can either die or give me the helmet."

Magneto turned for something else to throw and found himself surrounded by X-Men.

"We knew you’d put up less of a fight if you thought you were winning. This way you didn’t take any innocent people hostage." Scott had his hand on the trigger.

Storm’s eyes were white. "We really don’t want to hurt you."

"But we won’t mind if you don’t," said Gambit as he flashed some cards between his fingers.

"Why is it none of you can understand what I’m trying to accomplish?" roared Magneto "Have you no vision of what the future holds if we don’t rise up now?"

Metal began to speed toward them and they scattered. Scott sent a beam straight to the small of Erik’s back and he cried out. Samuel tackled him and Logan dove for the helmet. As he wrenched it off, Magneto convulsed and lay still. Cars, tanks, statues, and other metal objects plummeted from the air in a ring around the team. It had been close, but they had won and no one was killed in the process.

Scott looked down at his friend. "Nice costume."

Logan grunted, "All I could come up with on short notice. Pretty dangerous plan. I must be rubbing off on you."

"Let’s hope not." Scott grinned.

Logan dropped the helmet and swayed a little as he stood. Ororo caught him and hugged him.

"I’m so glad to see you. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need a little food." He hugged her back and broke away, staggering toward the tank and the beautiful body that lay near it.

He dropped to his knees beside Rogue and checked her over for any wounds. When he didn’t find any he picked her up in his arms and held her close. Closing his eyes and hoping against hope that Rogue would come back to him, he clung to her, breathing in her scent.

"Things will work out. I just know it."

Logan looked up and saw Remy and Samuel hovering over him.

"Maybe so, Cannonball. I hope so. Good work, you two." Logan rose to his feet.

"I’d offer to help carry the chere but I think you would not let me, no?" Remy cocked an eyebrow.

"No." Logan almost smiled. "She’s mine."

They found Pyro’s body at the jet.

"She brought him here and left this." Charles held up a piece of paper with three pen marks on it.

Logan sat in the back next to his unconscious woman on the way back and opened the note. Charles was watching and saw Logan start to tuck the note in a pocket. Logan noticed the attention and handed Charles the note instead. Xavier opened it and read:

I think you loved him more than I did. I guess that damns me, too. Don’t forget I’m still in line.

Charles glanced up and cocked an eyebrow but Logan just shrugged and said nothing. Instead he gazed at the young woman who had broken free of Carol’s influence to save her mate and sighed.

"Can you help her?"

"I’ll do everything I can, Logan. I promise." Charles hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Are you all right?"

"No, Chuck, I’m not."
------

(Chapter 29)

Logan paced the hall outside the lab in a repetitive motion. It reminded Scott of a caged animal.

"Logan? Got a minute?"

The older man glanced his way but kept padding around the floor.

"Logan, Jean says you’re distracting them."

Instantly the pacing stopped and Logan just stood there, looking as lost as Scott felt at the moment.

"Let’s grab a snack in the kitchen. Come on, you said you needed some food and that was a while ago."

Logan sighed and followed.

In the kitchen, Logan sat dully at the island, then leaned over and rested his head facedown on his crossed forearms. Scott opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pizza box and put it on the island counter. Logan didn’t move.

"You should get some sleep."

"No," Logan muttered into the counter. "Not until I know she’s okay."

"She’ll be fine. Jean says they’re making progress with both her and Carol."

Logan didn’t say anything. Scott hesitated and then decided to broach another subject, one he had been reluctant to mention before.

"Logan, there’s something I need to tell you. I asked Rogue to let Carol stay in her head for a while so she could fly us back here. I also asked her to let Carol help me fix the jet and stay around if we needed her." Scott swallowed hard and continued. "Logan, I’m sorry. I feel terrible about it but I take full responsibility. I made those decisions based on the needs of the team at the time. I wish I could have had more options, but I didn’t. Of course that doesn’t make what I did any better." There was no response. "Logan?

Logan raised his head and Scott was shocked to see sadness in his eyes. He had expected Logan to take his head off for using his girlfriend like that.

"You didn’t ask her to do it for yourself, Scott. You asked her because you had to, for the rest of us." Logan sighed. "She wouldn’t have been in this position if I had gone after Stryker as soon as I found out about him."

Ah, so that was it; he was going to blame himself for the whole thing. "We’re a pair, aren’t we?" Scott sat on the other stool. "We take the weight of the whole world on our shoulders and let it crush us with guilt." He rubbed his head in an effort to get rid of his headache. "It’s not your fault about Stryker. I’m the one that led him straight to us." Scott pushed the pizza away. "You couldn’t have seen this coming."

"Sure I could’ve. I’m the badass of the group. I know how these fuckers think. How many years did Stryker have me, filling my head with all this strategy shit? You’d think I could’ve figured it out." Logan put his head back down.

"Man, you must be tired. Go get some sleep." Scott hesitated. "Maybe you won’t dream tonight, now that you don’t have, well…" He faltered.

There was a humorless chuckle from the older man as he sat up and took a deep breath. There was a strange expression in his eyes, one Scott had never seen before.

"You know, that was a shock when I woke up. All this time I thought I was at least human before Stryker got a hold of me, you know? I guess I figured I could blame all these instincts to kill on him. Turns out he just worked with what he’d been given, improved on the original design as fuzzbutt would say."

Logan tensed a forearm muscle and three lethal-looking bone claws shot out of his fist. They looked like something out of an old horror movie.

"I guess I’ll have to rethink who I really am."

Scott was shocked at first then relaxed. "No, not really. Now things make much more sense. Stryker didn’t have the technology to create that kind of a mechanism when he first had you. He must have modeled that woman’s hands based on what you have and had to use biomechanics to duplicate it."

"He was right, I’m an animal."

"No more so than Megan."

That got a reaction. "What the hell do you mean by that?" Logan’s voice became a low, menacing growl.

Scott held up a palm. "Hear me out on this. Last night you were doing some amazing things without the metal to slow you down. You didn’t realize it but I had a front row seat while Jean kept that car off of us. I remember thinking that Megan would like to see those kinds of moves, something much different than Hank teaches her. Something she could really sink her teeth into. She seems to share some of your sensory gifts, too. She sees in the dark and her nose is amazing. Does she share all of your abilities?"

"Not the hearing." Logan had calmed down and was obviously mulling over what Scott said. The claws were retracted.

"Anyway, I’m just saying that you were probably more like her before Stryker got a hold of you. Does that still make you an animal?"

Logan shrugged and grabbed a slice of pizza. "Yes. Just a different kind."

"In what way?" Scott went to the fridge for something to drink. He held up a soda and Logan nodded so he grabbed two.

"One that’s going to be on the prowl, making sure no ‘Strykers’ get their hands on these kids."

"Hey, speaking of which, you need to call them and tell them to come home."

"I will. Ororo’s already asked me to call."

"Where were they anyway?" Scott slid one of the drinks across the counter as he sat back down.

"You don’t know, do you?" There was a wicked glint in Logan’s eyes.

"You can be such a pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?" Scott shook his soda can hard and opened it toward Logan.

---

Hours later, the early morning sunshine greeted a stranger. She walked through the halls of the mansion and out onto the grounds, searching for her objective. Xavier had said he would be outside in the garden. She found him sitting alone, staring into space. At his grunt of invitation, she sat down next to him on the garden bench. They looked at each other for a minute or two, not really knowing where to start.

"I’m Carol Danvers." She held out a hand but he didn’t take it.

"I’m Logan."

She pulled her hand back slowly. "I don’t blame you. This whole thing has been…it’s all so surreal, like a dream. The Professor had to pull my memories from my subconscious because all my real ones went into the other woman’s mind. I really don’t feel any kind of emotions with them, they’re like scenes from a movie with someone else playing my part."

He studied her. "So the part of you that was in Rogue…"

"Is lost. I wasn’t in her, just my memories and personality. I don’t know how to explain…"

"You don’t have to. I think I know." The anger he had for her melted away. She wasn’t the one he could blame for Rogue’s imprisonment.

They looked out over the shrubs and flowers, not really seeing the beauty before them.

"I knew you. Worked with you. Do you want to know?" She flipped her blonde hair out of her pale eyes. "If you don’t I’ll just leave."

He sighed. "I doubt if you know the whole story, but go ahead. Give me the gist of it."

"I left home when I graduated from high school. My dad was a stick in the mud about women doing anything but housework, you know? So I ran off and joined the Air Force. It turned out I was very good at flying and I started to go places. Then my commander gets a request for me to be assigned to a covert military operation. So I go.

"That was where I met you. My assignments were to drop you off and pick you up at specific locations. I never knew details and you never said a word to me. On one run, you came back to the plane and you had blood all over you. You faded out on me and I called the base and they said to bring you back ASAP. By the time I got there you were coming to and started yelling and thrashing around. They ‘escorted’ me away from the area so I wouldn’t see what happened.

"After that, a big guy, really huge and hairy, started coming on the missions with us. Sometimes he went with you; sometimes he stayed with me. I always kept my firearm at the ready when he did that. I got the feeling that he had no guilt about taking a woman and getting what he wanted from her. There weren’t any problems until you came back one time with the enemy on your tail. We were in a helicopter and took hits everywhere. The big guy went down and so did I. When I came to, you were flying us away. I began to cough up blood and you got worried. That was the first time you spoke to me. You told me that I was going to be okay. I think we ended up at a military base, I’m not sure. I know that you stayed with me until the big man came in with several more men. They began to laugh at you and told you that you should’ve ditched me. They took you away.

"When I was well enough, I reported back to the covert base. They told me to go to the underground firing range. When I got there I saw you bolted, naked and spread-eagled, to the wall and them running tests on new military ammunition. The scientists were filming the damage the bullets did to you. I started to run and ran smack into the base commander. He told me you were a mutant and that you could heal from almost anything. I felt sick but he convinced me that you were a danger to the human race and should be used to further science so humans would be safer.

"I stayed on for another few months, taking you out on missions when needed, watching them use you as a lab rat when I wasn’t needed. I became detached, like the other men, figuring you deserved it. One night I pulled guard duty in the basement. I saw where they kept you when they didn’t need you. You lay there in the middle of your cage, naked and filthy. I was thinking that you deserved this, that’s what they told me. Then you opened your eyes and looked at me and I remembered that you had saved my life. I also remembered what the big man had said and realized that you wouldn’t be in the cage if you had just ditched me and escaped. I had to leave. I had to get out of there. Somehow I left the base and reported back to my old co. I requested an immediate transfer and got it.

"I entered the space program and began to forget about you. During one mission, I was to fly a transport plane into the upper levels of the atmosphere with a small rocket plane attached. They had a successful launch and managed to break into space. While I was circling to make sure all was okay, I felt a strange tingling in my skin. I was so high up, I figured it was the lack of atmosphere or oxygen or something. When I finally landed I realized my skin had changed. It was tougher. I also found that I could raise myself off the floor and float in the air. It was unexplainable. My strength had also changed. I could pull up on the bumper of a jeep and lift the tires off the ground.

"That night, I had the first nightmare about you. When I woke up I realized I was a mutant, just like you. Now I couldn’t justify that you had deserved the torture you were given. I began to drink to get rid of the nightmares and my performance slipped. One night two soldiers tried to rape me thinking I was too drunk to notice. I got away by using my strength and my ability to fly. It wasn’t long after that they caught me. They brought me to a new place where they put me in your old cage so I figured they had finally found a way to kill you." She paused. "I think you can figure out the rest."

There was a long silence.

She stared at the ground. "This must be hard to hear. I know it was a shock for me to see what I had done. Somehow I think the memories Xavier pulled seem sharper than if I had remembered them on my own. I just don’t feel emotion for them. I would ask you to forgive me but I don’t think that’s possible."

"Carol, look at me." She glanced up and saw an honest countenance looking back at her. "I don’t remember any of what you told me. My nightmares are all I have left. I’m like you; they don’t seem real, not when I’m awake. Does that make you feel better?"

She nodded and relaxed a little. "I guess it does. Puts us on the same level. I should leave now. I don’t want to stick around, not after all that’s happened. It would be too hard for you and her."

She stood and he did too.

"You have plans or are you just going?"

She smiled and looked away. "Xavier gave me the name of a man who heads a team of mutants that are trying to make a difference, just like you guys. I think this old warbird had better start making up for some of her past mistakes, don’t you think?" She glanced at him to see if he approved.

Logan shrugged. "I think you’d better drop the past and just help out because you can."

"Helping just because I can. I like that." She reached out a hand again and he took it without reservation. "Thanks, Logan. Good luck to you and yours."

He watched her walk away and shook his head softly. Then he smelled a familiar scent on the wind and heard the small footsteps approach. Before he could believe it Marie was back in his arms. She knew him, she was holding him, and he was holding her. It was everything he had hoped for. A few moments passed before they were willing to let go enough to actually look at each other more closely. When they did, though, it was in a humorous way.

Marie blurted out, "Your hair! Ah swear Ah leave you alone and this is what you do to yourself." She laughed and it was a lovely, musical, beautiful sound to his ears.

---

Scott stood by the library window overlooking the garden. He was watching the reunion and thinking of his own relationship with Jean.

"They make a nice couple, don’t they?"

Down in the garden, Rogue had her arms wrapped firmly around her lover trying desperately to get even closer and Logan was cradling her like a piece of his life he had lost.

"Yes, Professor, they do." Scott turned and sat on a nearby chair. "They’ve been through a lot this time around."

Xavier wheeled up next to his former pupil. "More than you know. Did she come through here first?"

"Yes," Scott grinned ruefully. "She said there was nothing to forgive and thanked me for helping him. I have to ask, though, why the gloves?"

"She still can’t control her mutation."

"But Carol…"

"Exactly. That was why it took so long. It was a fight to get Rogue to let go of Carol. It seems Carol knew how to control Rogue’s skin, something I thought was not possible, and Rogue wanted to know the secret."

Scott gave a low whistle. "Now she’ll never know."

"I wouldn’t say that. Rogue says Carol left her a couple of clues and she knows where to start on a road to a cure." Xavier glanced out the window again. The couple was sitting on one of the garden benches, talking. "She is bound and determined to be able to have a normal relationship with Logan someday."

Scott nodded. "Then nothing will stop her."

There was a pause in the conversation and they could hear Rogue laughing in the distance.

"Professor, I was a little out of line earlier…"
"No, Scott, you weren’t and we both know it. Don’t try to save my feelings. If anything, I owe you an apology. You were under quite a strain and I was not improving the situation."

They looked at each other and smiled in understanding. Xavier had the feeling that he had just let go of a pupil and had received a true friend in return.

"Professor?"

They turned and saw Kurt enter the room. "Yes, Kurt. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you still needed me. I mean, I was thinking of going back to Boston, to the Church and I…"

"You are more than welcome to stay with us. You have been an invaluable help and I, for one, enjoy your company."

If his skin hadn’t been blue, Xavier reflected, he would be blushing now.

"Well, I know there are still things you may need help with..."

Scott stopped him. "We can do all that for ourselves. If you stay, stay because you can be part of the family. Do you feel comfortable here?"

"Yes. It has been a long time since I’ve been this happy being around others. Not since my days at the circus in Munich have I been…"

"You were in a circus? When?" Scott was intrigued now.

"It was a few years ago. I had an aerial act. I’m an acrobat." Kurt flipped around the room in an impressive display of prowess. "I was known as the Amazing Nightcrawler."

"Hmm, yellow eyes, does flips," the Professor rubbed his chin. "Who do you suppose is going to keep him on his toes?"

Scott grinned. "Megan’ll love him. Now she’ll want to grow a tail."
------

(Chapter 30)

Samuel and Remy sat on the front steps of the mansion, still in their nicest clothes. St. John’s funeral had been held earlier at a small cemetery nearby. It was a quiet affair with Kurt saying a small prayer and Scott giving a small goodbye speech that reflected on his short life. It was very touching and very quiet. No one could really believe he was gone.

Xavier didn’t want the children to mourn their friend, he wanted them to celebrate his life in a more positive way so there was to be a ceremony when the others returned. A bonfire had been built out back with the trees that had been damaged in the raid and new trees waited to be planted in Allerdyce’s honor.

"I wish he had stayed with us." Remy stared out over the front grounds.

"It’s kind of like when Summers and Logan let us go to New Orleans. They knew we needed to go and trusted us to do the right thing. Logan said there was nothing he could have done short of knocking him out. If smokey had stayed with us he would have been unhappy. At least this way he had a chance to love." Samuel had his head in his hands.

"I think there is a difference. You and I, we had to grow up fast and came here after we had lived on our own. St. John was only a few years younger but he did not have the taste of life that we have. I wish he had listened to some good sense."

Samuel looked over at his friend. "He listened to his heart. Tell me, Cajun, when you first came here at nineteen were you ready to listen to anybody? I know I wasn’t. I thought I knew it all."

Remy snorted. "I guess I did, too. It wasn’t until I met a certain person who knows nothing about himself and a lot about life that I realized I still have a lot to learn."

"Yeah. He’s quite a teacher. Thank God we passed this latest survival test, huh?"

"You got that right, mon ami."

They gave each other a high five and sat for a while thinking of all that had happened lately.

"Do you think she really loved him?"

"Who, Mystique? I don’t know." Samuel shrugged. "She did help us get him out and she brought his body back to us when Magneto killed him. He must have meant something to her."

"I just wonder, when I lose my heart will I lose my head, too?"

"You? Lose your heart?" Samuel laughed. "Now that would be a sight."

"Hey, mon ami. We have a visitor and I think I know who it is."

They watched a battered car drive up the entryway. It was dusty and dirty and had scorch marks and a few bullet holes in it with some cracked glass on the driver’s side.

Samuel smiled. "Would you look at that car? I guess I never realized just how close we came to getting shot up by those soldiers. Chiquita really needs a new windshield and a paint job."

They stood and walked down the steps in time to meet her as she exited the car.

"Which do you prefer, Gambit and Cannonball or Easy and Blue Eyes?" She laughed and they did, too. She walked around the car carrying a large manila envelope and gave them both a hug, which surprised them. "I saw the surveillance tapes. You two put up quite a fight at the Mall. I’m glad you’re alive. Who was the man with the pole?"

"It was Handsome in disguise," said Remy. "What brings you to our neck of the woods, chere? This is not the way to Arizona. Or are you going back?"

"Oh, I’m going back. Officially I have to face an inquiry into my insubordination. Unofficially, I have to take up my new duties as liaison between the President and a certain bunch of do-gooders." She winked.

"Us? Are you talking about the X-Men?" Samuel was shocked. "Just what were you and Amber up to? I thought you just went to warn him, not fish for a job. Say, where is Amber, anyway?"

"I dropped her off at her house. She said she needed a nap. She was something, let me tell you."

They sat and she recounted their struggle with the Secret Service and then their fight to get the President out of the White House and how they helped set up the ruse that the President and the summit meeting were going to be held there anyway.

"So the Professor was right. The President wasn’t there when we fought Magneto."

"No, Easy, he wasn’t. Was Magneto part of Stryker’s scheme?"

"No, he was working on his own. Stryker is dead and his labs destroyed. Canada now has a new lake." Samuel leaned back against the steps they were sitting on. "I’m glad he’s gone."

"You, me, and the President. How did you do it?"

"That’s a secret." Remy didn’t say more and Samuel didn’t add to it.

"What about Magneto? What happened to him?"

"He’s in a safe place where he won’t hurt anyone else."

The threesome looked up and saw Cyclops. He had come out on the front steps and had listened to the conversation. Jean and the Professor had told him of the visitor.

"I’m Fuerte and you are?"

"This is Hotshot, Chiquita." Remy grinned. "Our fearless leader."

"Ah, the one you went to the prison to try to rescue. Nice to meet you." They shook hands when Cyclops sat next to her on the steps.

"Actually, my name’s Cyclops. Where did ‘Hotshot’ come from?" Scott had been curious about the code names in Canada but never had a chance to ask.

"Amber," said Samuel.

"Oh. I didn’t know I’d been named yet."

They all laughed.

"Here." Fuerte handed the large envelope to Scott. "The President said to give this to the leader of the X-Men along with his apologies. Stryker had given him this when he asked the President for permission to detain the staff and students of a certain school in a certain county in New York for questioning. He really wants to keep the lines of communication open with you but doesn’t want to let anyone else know."

"He does not like the thought of speaking with mutants?" Remy frowned.

"It’s not that, Easy. He wants to make sure there isn’t a trail back to you again. He only has one year left on his term in office. He said if he doesn’t win the election he doesn’t want to leave any evidence behind that you existed. There’s no telling what kind of action the next administration will take and he doesn’t want to give them any information they don’t need to have. The surveillance tapes have already been destroyed. Only the President, the top Secret Service officials, Amber, and myself have seen them and we were only there to help identify who was fighting whom. No one else had access to this folder except the President and Stryker.

"It’s funny, Amber and I were in the White House and we don’t remember anything but Magneto. All the stuff I saw on the tape I never saw when I was there. Can you explain that?"

"We could," said Scott, "but then we’d have to shoot you."

There was silence for a moment and then he smiled charmingly.

She laughed. "I can see you guys are going to be worth knowing." She flipped him a business card she pulled from her pocket. "Call me if I need to bend the President’s ear for anything. Just ask for ‘Chiquita’. You guys take care of yourselves." She stood and dusted herself off. "I guess I’d better be heading back."

Cyclops stared at her for a moment then made a decision. "You know, we were just about to go in and have some lunch. Care to join us?"

"Really?"

"Really."

Her face lit up when she smiled and Scott noticed that both of the young men were staring at the Hispanic beauty in front of them. He chuckled and shook his head.

"Thanks, Hotshot. That would be great."

---

Scott prowled the halls in a small imitation of Logan that night and found himself in the foyer in front of the trophy cabinet. There really weren’t trophies in it, instead it was a collection of triumphs and tragedies. Small things that meant a lot to those who lived here, especially the children. Scott opened it and placed a well-used lighter on one of the shelves. Then he reached into a pocket and pulled out a sliver of metal and placed it next to the lighter and closed the case.

Wandering aimlessly now, Scott eventually made his way into the library and curled up in one of the wing-backed chairs in front of the fireplace. Everyone was in bed but him and he sat in the near darkness watching the last embers of the fire in the fireplace die down. Remembering Pyro had only sharpened his focus on the perils all of them had faced. He had come so close to losing Jean, not once but twice, this week, once by his own hand. How could he give her happiness in this kind of life? A part of him entertained the idea of convincing her to go with him and get away from all this madness. No, he shook his head, he could never do it and neither could she. This was their home, their family.

What to do then? How could he give her the love and happiness he knew Jean needed? He smiled to himself. Perhaps it was time to make good on a commitment he had agreed to long ago. There was always some good reason why they hadn’t walked down the aisle before now. Recent events only reinforced that there was no good reason to wait any longer. He wanted to have the pleasure of being her husband, even for a short time, something to remember if things went wrong again. Scott imagined the conversation and pictured her expression of reaction.

He voiced his thoughts, "I don’t think we should wait any longer. I want to marry you and you want to marry me, we’ve already made that commitment to each other. We should share our love and our lives as husband and wife from now on. Let’s go ahead and set a date."

"I’m flattered, Scott, but you’re already engaged." A dark form rose from one of the chairs by the far window.

Startled, Scott nearly sprang out of the chair. "Shit! I didn’t see you there."

"That’s obvious," said Logan dryly. "Does that mean you don’t want to marry me?"

Scott snorted. "What are you doing up? Rogue’s okay, isn’t she?"

"She’s fine, sleeping peacefully. I was just in here thinking. I guess my mind’s going over the same things yours is." Logan sighed and settled himself in the other chair that focused on the fireplace. "This has been some kind of week."

Marie had told him all about what had happened to her. He was not as broken up about not touching as she was and he told her he would rather have her and not touch than not have her at all. She had cried then, reminded of the same situation she had with him in Canada. They had talked and walked and held hands and kissed, cherishing every moment together like never before. They did have to make a few new adjustments. Logan smiled at the thought. Marie still had Carol’s strength and she broke a couple of his ribs when they first hugged. He didn’t tell her, of course. She would have to learn how to deal with it, since there was every chance she would permanently keep it, but that would come later. Now he just wanted to make her a part of his life in a way he couldn’t vocalize and it wasn’t until he heard Scott’s little speech that he realized that was the way to go.

"Yeah, it has." Scott was silent for a moment, staring dreamily at the fire. Then he looked over at the older man and cocked an eyebrow. "Wait a minute, did you just say what I think you said?"

"Hmmm? What did I say?" Logan absently chewed on the end of an unlit cigar.

"You’re thinking of asking Rogue to marry you, aren’t you?" Scott fairly beamed.

There was silence from the other chair. Logan stared into the fire, an enigmatic expression on his face.

"You are! Damn. When? Wait a minute, you don’t know how to ask her, do you?" Scott was smug. "You never took me up on those dating lessons but I could help you out on this."

"Scott." The tone was a low reminder of the dangerous path the leader was treading.

"Maybe a garden setting? A lakeside picnic would work. Don’t forget to get down on one knee. Women like that kind of thing."

"Summers." It came out as a growl.

"A rose helps." Scott flushed and smiled in remembrance, then frowned. "Hmmm, on second thought, maybe you shouldn’t rush into this. I don’t want to get roped into a double wedding."

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" There was a mischievous look in Logan’s eyes that Scott missed.

Scott laughed for the first time in days. "Hell, yes."

Logan shrugged. "Then I guess I’ll wait a little longer to tell you what happened to your car. I’d hate to spoil your mood." He chewed on the cigar to hide his grin.

"My car? What’s my car got to do with anything?"

"You won’t be driving off to your honeymoon in it."

"Logan, where’s my car?" It was Scott’s turn to start growling.

"It was blown up. If it’s any comfort, the SUV and Rogue’s jacket went with it."

Scott blinked. "Tell me you’re kidding."

"You don’t know, do you?"

"Damn it! Are you or aren’t you?"

"Let’s just say Jean’ll look really cute riding on the back of your bike with little tin cans dragging behind it."

"Logan!"
------

End (Meeting Death picks up where this one leaves off)