Part 18- ‘Look What Came A-Crawling…’
Lieutenant Bishop glanced quickly at the thick red file on the seat next to him. He was driving himself, not assured with being chauffeured by a private from the base especially one with a CO like Arrington in charge. He had left the base late in the evening; the logs would show that lieutenant would cite personal reasons for leaving the base, an emergency, the illness and death of a non-existent cousin.
He had been forced to lie; nobody should know his true destination, he would address the board in complete secrecy. Arrington was a dangerous man, he commanded loyalty from those working with him, and would no doubt gut him like a fish if he ever found out what he was up to. And having come close to losing his guts once before, Bishop had grown rather attached to them.
Dusk came quickly on this side of the border, fuckin’ Canada with its fuckin’ retarded climate, he had hoped he wouldn’t have to make a return visit but here he was again, driving along a deserted highway, pissed off at the climate, Arrington, mutants and the world in general.
What he needed was a holiday, a long sojourn out in the middle of no where, a hot, and humid nowhere. A place where the beautiful local girls wore nothing but small bikinis, with a dazzling white beach, where he could sweat like a pig under a burning sun and drink ice cold Pina coladas.
Not stuck here, the middle of fuckin’ Canada where day faded into night faster than the time it took to blink, and where he was slowly driving to face a conglomerate of men with vested stakes in a project that Bishop was convinced was being headed by a madman.
They wouldn’t be happy, millions of dollars had been poured into this, hundreds of man hours laying down a series of steps that would eventually see them expecting a return on their initial investments that was doubled or even tripled. To have that at risk was not an option, they had given free reign to Arrington, perhaps it was decision they would come to regret.
Bishop certainly hoped not, he had stood back and watched as Arrington had implemented his own design, never really understanding, and not being able to question the reasons, the how and why as to the abductions of Eric, by now a harmless old man thanks to the cure and the man taken from the Grampian mountains, someone who Arrington later introduced as Charles Xavier.
If Arrington’s neck was going on the block for his recklessness, Bishop certainly didn’t want to be next in line, perhaps if he informed the board now, before things spiralled further out of control, then just maybe the board would look a little leniently towards him.
He was still thinking of his address to the committee that he almost missed the sight of a woman waving to him by the side of the road. She was stood by a car, the hood popped open and a flashlight held tightly in her hand. Bishop almost didn’t stop, but catching sight of her long blonde hair, her tight red dress and legs as long as a supermodel’s in the headlights of his car made him ease off the gas and hit the brakes.
She hurried over to him, staring at her through his rear view mirror he enjoyed the view of her ample cleavage bouncing along, he smiled wryly, maybe this trip wouldn’t be a total loss after all. He rolled down the window and she leaned in, ‘Hi…’ she uttered in a breathless whisper, ‘could you help me? I was on my way to a party and the damn car just died, do you think you could look at it, I’d be really grateful…please?’
Bishop didn’t need to be asked twice, ‘Sure thing…’ He jumped out of his car and followed her to her broken down car. She stood by him as he ducked his head under the hood, he smiled hoping to mask the fact that his knowledge of cars was amateur at best, and downright shitty at worst.
He made a show of noting all the obvious, ‘the fuel line seems fine, radiator isn’t overheated…’ he leaned further into the car, what was it about blondes that made men think they could do the impossible? He had no idea what was wrong with the damn car, but as he looked back at her, staring for the longest while at her chest before looking up into wide blue eyes, and full red lips, she smiled and he grinned stupidly in return.
‘I think it might have something to do with the jump leads…why don’t you take a closer look?’ She quipped softly, her words drifting through the night air, dripping seductively and carrying the softest of accents. He wondered for the longest while about both her accent and just how grateful she would be when he helped her, that it didn’t occur to him to ask how she even knew what jump leads were since she had looked and confessed to being so helpless only a few minutes ago.
But Bishop like most men failed to look beyond the peroxide hair, he leaned further into the car, he barely even noticed the woman unhook the bonnet, she held the car hood in both hands, lifting it higher, smiling grimly before she slammed it down brutally on Bishop’s head.
There was a loud thud accompanied by a low moan as Bishop’s chin hit the engine of the car, she lifted the bonnet again before smashing it again onto the lieutenant’s head, he fell to the floor heavily and lay there unconscious.
She stood over him, adjusting her dress and smiling widely, she watched as two of her companions emerged from the shadows to stand next to her.
Looked like Bishop wasn’t going to be making his report after all.
‘Hurt’s don’t it?’
Logan looked up at her, she had put her clothes back on, he still sat bare-chested, his eyes narrowed and a grim expression on his face.
She was right, it did hurt, thinking he had been betrayed by a friend, not only thinking but knowing it, they’d been betrayed, Eddie had sold them out. It was the only explanation as to how they had been found so quickly, extensive satellite navigation only worked when it had something to track.
That meant a homing device, a beacon of some sort, a tracking device much like the GPS he’d pulled from the SUV’s, Eddie had done the same thing with the Buick, he’d led the soldiers right to them, and all along Logan had trusted him.
He had been shot at, and almost drowned, but worse than that he’d almost lost her again, he’d almost lost Marie, she would have died trying to save him, and in the end he was supposed to be the one with the invincibility, he was supposed to be indestructible. If it hadn’t been for her he’d be lying at the bottom of the river, like the Buick, drowned and useless.
His anger got the better of him; the claws shot out; with a fierce growl he slammed his fist into the ground in front of him, the dirt kicking up angrily, his hand buried up to the knuckles. He retracted his claws at last, took a shuddering breath and placed his head in his hands.
Marie watched him quietly, before sighing, she recognised that feeling, the one where it seemed where there was no where to turn, where so called friends betrayed you and nothing made sense. She sat close to him, ‘we are adrift in a world where no one is to be trusted, lost in a game where the rules are always changing.’
The words came to her, whispering haunts in a troubled mind, it didn’t sound like the professor, but her, trickling soft honey dew sentences.
‘Look…’ she spoke quietly, ‘don’t feel too bad, ah fell for it as well, everybody has a price…we don’t know how they got to him.’
Logan stared at her for the longest while, he shook his head, with a crooked smile playing at his lips, ‘Fuck…’ he laughed gently.
She looked at him confused, ‘What?’
‘Maybe its bein’ nearly drowned, but I must have water on the brain, ‘cause ah swear, it almost sounds as if you’re being forgiving.’
Her face set serious, a bitter edge to her tone she gritted her teeth, ‘Fuck forgiving, ah ever see that lying bastar’ again ah’m gonna rip his lying tongue out.’
Logan scoffed, ‘Yep there she is…guess it was water on the brain.’
She sighed again, ‘everybody has a price, a pressure point, maybe they found it,’ she shrugged, ‘either way your friend sent us up shit creek without a paddle.’
‘So what now…?’
She stood up, brushing herself down as much as she could, some of the dirt clinging stubbornly to her legs, she turned and walked to the edge of the bank and stared out across the water, ‘We have to split up.’
Logan startled, jumped up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head and buttoning it, he shook his head, ‘uh-uh no way, not gonna happen.’ He stated simply, it wouldn’t happen, couldn’t happen.
She turned towards him slowly, ‘Apart we make a bigger target…’sides ah reckon we got the upper hand this time…’
‘How’s that?’ he snapped angrily, she was resolute, so damn determined, thing was he knew she was right, but maybe it was the idea that she didn’t need him all that much, not anymore. He recalled her words in the truck, when something else had taken over, the other part, that cold detached, hard as nails, and scary as hell part that had won through.
She had made it clear, ‘She doesn’t need ya sugah, she’s got us…’
Marie smiled as she approached him slowly, ‘they think we’re dead, for as long as it takes them to figure out we ain’t, it should buy us some time.’
He closed his eyes and nodded reluctantly, she stood in front of him and looked up at him; ‘ah think we both know by now that ah can look after myself…’ she turned to walk away, he gripped her arm tightly, ‘Marie…’ it was too much like losing her again, too much like a second, third and fuckin’ fourth mistake.
Could he let her walk away, still hundreds of miles and a couple of states from New York? And no guarantee, no assurance that she would even head in the same direction, what’s to say that she wouldn’t go her own way, fight the soldiers on her own terms and if that was the case, could he run the risk of never seeing her again?
She stopped, allowing his grip on her arm to linger, she smiled gently, raising her other hand she opened her tightly clasped fingers. His dog tags fell from her clasp, the cold metal gleaming in the sunlight; they twirled as she held the chain between her index finger and thumb.
‘Ah’m gonna hold on to these, ah expect ya to come claim them…’ She moved away from him, climbing up the embankment, her boots clumping heavily into the dirt. She called out over her shoulder.
‘There’s a bar, jus’ off highway forty-five, south of Massachusetts, it’s called the ‘Three Stars’…y’all will find me there.’
He stared up after her, every inch of him screaming at him to stop her going any further, screaming at him to hold onto her, this was a mistake. But he stood rooted to the spot, jus’ like he had done all those months ago in his room when he had let her walk out without a fight. ‘Yeah look how well that turned out ya asshole,’ he swore under his breath, but short of tying her to a tree stump he wasn’t gonna stop her doing what she wanted, and right now she needed to go it alone.
‘The ‘Three Stars’…did ya work there?’ he asked again. He supposed she must have worked her way across the country, a waitress in a bar jus’ what she had been doin’ when he had found her again.
‘Yeah Logan…somethin’ like that…’ she looked back and smiled widely at him, ‘See ya around Logan…and be careful.’
He watched sullenly as she climbed up and disappeared through the line of trees, this was a mistake, a damn mistake.
Bishop snapped opened his eyes, his head throbbing he groaned, the fog cleared and it took precious little time for him to realise that not only was he strapped down to a gurney and bound by his wrists and feet, he was also naked.
Snapping his head left and right, a sudden panic gripping his heart he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Only there really was nothing to see, it was pitch black, the only light in the room was the sharp spotlight that hung over his head illuminating his pale skin.
His breathing grew short and rapid, a fine sheen of sweat breaking over his skin, his chest heaving a heavy weight pressing down on him, he knew the sensation perfectly, he had seen it so many times in those he’d helped to put in this exact position. Bishop panicked because knew exactly what was coming next, pain and torture, and maybe a slow, lingering death.
Sure enough, his ears caught the sound of a small squeak, the sound of wheels being turned, a trolley being pushed, and there out of the darkness came a small metallic tray of instruments, scalpel, saw, pliers…all pushed by the beautiful blonde, who was now wearing a sadistic smile and a smart nurses uniform.
He struggled against his restraints, his efforts useless as she set up the tray next to him, torturously arranging the instruments into neat little lines. A slow whimper escaped him, she stopped and looked closely at him, before smiling, and climbing atop of his lap she leaned close and whispered in his ear.
‘Shhh… I promise I’m not going to hurt you…much…’
Leaning back, she took out a needle from her pocket, she held the injection up for him to see, a clear liquid in the vial.
‘Do you know what this is Lieutenant?’ She waited as he shook his head, ‘really? You should…Sodium Pentothal…truth serum.’
She leaned in close once more, he stared wide eyed at her, her eyes flashing bright, changing briefly from the blue to a bright yellow. ‘I’ve been reading about you Lieutenant, seems your lot have developed a nasty habit for sticking people with needles…well guess what?’ She kissed him gently on the cheek, her red lipstick staining his pale skin, ‘I’ve gotten a taste for it as well.’
She sat back once more, chuckling softly, and Bishop couldn’t decide what he found the more perverse, the fact she was sat on his naked crotch as she purported torturing him, or that he couldn’t help his body reacting to her.
‘But you know what, I’m thinking that’s too easy, let’s play a little first…’ pocketing the needle once more she ran her hand down the length of his right arm, slowly interlacing her fingers in his, counting off the digits before seemingly making her choice.
Taking his middle finger she held it tightly in her grasp, she smiled once more, before she began to bend the finger upwards, his hands tied down Bishop was useless to resist. He screamed louder as she increased her force, tears of pain ran down his cheeks, spittle ran from his mouth as she bent his finger all the way backwards, the bones crunching and the finger eventually snapped.
He screamed as the broken finger hung loosely, the snapped bone jutting ugly from the skin.
Grabbing him firmly by the chin, his face held tight and contorted in her hand, she shouted above his screaming and crying, ‘Tell me what’s in the file Bishop.’
‘Why don’t you jus’ read the damn thing, you sick bitch!’ He swore at her, whimpering and writhing in the gurney.
‘Tut-tut…language...’ she clicked her tongue disapprovingly, before slapping him hard across the face, ‘Bishop, now come on, what would be the fun in that?’
She scratched her long fingernails down his neck leaving deep red welts as she did so, leaning into him, she licked her way up the scratches eventually resting her face next to his ear once more, he pulled away but she took hold of his hair and pulled him towards her once more.
‘I’m gonna make you scream so loud and all night long baby…I can’t guarantee it’ll be fun for you though…’ She tugged on his hair, ‘but I promise you’ll be begging me to stop.’
‘Who are you?’ he screamed at her, ‘what do you want from me…?’
Her expression grew deadly serious, ‘my name…now what would be exotic enough…? How about this, my name is Raven Darkholme…maybe I’ll make you scream that a few times as well…let’s see where the night takes us…’
She climbed off his lap and smilingly drew the tray closer, picking up the surgical saw she let it gleam in light, she saw his eyes widen and watched uncaring as he began to struggle once more, ‘What I want from you is everything…all your plans, all that you’ve done, I want to hear all of it…and don’t even think about holding out on me…’ she tapped the flat of saw against Bishop’s pinkie finger, ‘trust me I’ll know.’
Bishop’s head lolled back as he threatened to pass out from the pain of his broken finger and the prospect of losing more fingers, ‘Why…?’ he whimpered.
‘Don’t you know Bishop?’ she laughed tauntingly, ‘Payback’s a bitch…and I crawled out of hell to get mine.’
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Author's Chapter Notes:
‘Don’t you know Bishop?’ she laughed tauntingly, ‘Payback’s a bitch…and I crawled out of hell to get mine.’
A/N: Ya know I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard...yeah right!
A/N: Ya know I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard...yeah right!