Summary: The X-men depart to Twilight to take care of Jason Frost and find a little something extra there they did not expect. Part three of my Twilight series.
Art for this book should be up at my home page the same time the chapters go up, if anyone is interested in looking at it.
Updated 11-4-13 to add (break)s as needed and fix all the crap I keep getting wrong.
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(One)
Jason Frost sat at his desk, bathed in the dim light of a small camping lantern. It was nighttime now here in Twilight and the town was quiet, asleep. Not that it was all that easy to tell time here, it was just that it "felt" darker in the evenings.
Jason liked it here at Twilight, it was quiet and peaceful, and he had done very well for himself financially. This was the third "pocket" world he had visited since acquiring his doorkey, and thus far, it had been the most profitable in resources. The Honey was making him more money than he could ever have dreamed of. He had used it to reinvest more here than anywhere else, building this small town and bringing over his forced laborers.
Being the boss here, he was the only one to have a private cabin all for himself. He was a man who enjoyed his privacy, as most schemers do. In his hands was a notebook where he jotted down his ideas for the future - and he had plenty. Honey production was going well, so well that he needed more workers and more men to keep them in line. With his impressive profits, he figured that shouldn't be a problem. It wasn't just the money that made hiring his pet mercenaries so easy, it was the fact that he also had a good selection of young girls to keep them entertained. Frost like to present himself as a preacher, as a spreader of the Good Word, but even he knew it was far from the truth.
Growing up rich, a young Jason Frost learned about lies early. His mother was a materialistic bitch and his father a self righteous bore. His dad sold real estate and was a slick con man, a smooth talker who excelled at bilking millions from his clients. It was a genetic trait he passed on to his son.
Jason loved fine things - growing up in a mansion with all of the amenities often did that to a kid. Still, his dad wanted him to earn his own way and was stingy with his gifts, or so Jason had felt. He had tried his own hand at making money but with little success until one day, out of boredom, he attended an anti-mutant rally near a local college. Here he learned one sad but awful truth – hate sells. Give it a sort of religious spin and it was that much stronger. There were several anti-mutant factions sponsoring the rally and Jason saw the money they collected, supposedly to support their push for the Mutant Registration Act to be passed, but more than likely, that money went into the pockets of the loudest, most impressive speaker.
Well, one thing that Frost was good at was public speaking. He quickly founded his own group and was soon outpreaching them all, discovering along the way that the more fire and brimstone he threw in his speeches, the more he got folks' attention. They were happy to give him their money in the hopes that he and he alone could stop the mutant menace, especially when it seemed like the government had no intention of doing it themselves. He was especially good at inspiring the rowdy to acts of violence – his faithful followers began mugging mutants when they could catch them alone. They burnt down the houses and businesses of known mutants and stole from them whatever they could in the hopes of driving them underground. Frost had learned some tricks from dear old dad including how to hide where the money was coming from. He was financing these misadventures without leaving a paper trail back to himself. He was in heaven. King for a day.
He loved the sense of power. The idea that he was influencing and creating history. It fueled his ambition and his imagination. If he could become powerful enough, heck, who was to say that the Presidency was that far out of his reach? If he couldn't have the Presidency, he would settle for a President's ear, that could be fun. He was a very driven man.
Jason Frost soon captured the attention of more than just faithful, militant followers. SHIELD took note of his growing power and influence and sent in infiltrators and spies to check up on him, seeing how far he was willing to go. In spite of the violence he encouraged, Jason was never at the scene of any of the crimes. He was untouchable. Wanting to shut him down any way they could, they finally brought him in for tax evasion, the only thing they could prove.
SHIELD was careful to make sure that when they brought Frost in, they took him to one of their own detention facilities, something that ultimately turned out to be a mistake. As luck would have it, they had another fellow in the same detention block there, a man named Micky Tedorsky. This guy was scary dangerous and made Jason Frost look like an amateur. He, too, had a lot of followers, people more than ready to risk their lives for him.
While both men were awaiting trials that might never come, there was a breakout in the jail. Mickey had somehow managed to make contact with his people on the outside and they had come for him. Mickey favored Jason's cause and was aware that he was in the same prison as himself. He made sure to take Jason out with him when he left, along with a few other more militant anti-mutant haters also in custody. Mickey was a resourceful fellow, he had done more than successfully lead an outbreak, he had also managed to steal the doorkey on his way out, his plan all along.
Micky Tedorsky took Frost under his wing and freely taught him many things, including how to use the doorkey. There were pocket worlds, Mickey explained, worlds just ripe for exploitation. There were no police, now laws, no rules in these places. They could plunder these worlds and use that to finance their various anti-mutant plans here in the real world. The possibilities of what they could accomplish here were endless.
They worked together for a while, but Frost grew impatient with Micky's methods. The man knew how to get to these worlds as he had promised, but he was unsophisticated and too quick to just grab what was obviously valuable. Frost had wanted to explore more, build towns, and make safe havens of these locales. Micky couldn't be bothered. Frost saw money and potential being wasted. It wasn't long before he took matters into his own hands. He murdered Mickey - making it look as though a mutant had done it of course - and then took the doorkey for himself. Now at last, he had all the freedom he needed to further his own goals. He had been moving around ever since, taking his time and getting the most of each pocket world he had found.
Little Julie One hand might have disagreed, but of all the pocket worlds he had been to, Jason loved Twilight the best. It was wooded and cool, fresh and sweet. He hadn't had much trouble here - a few prisoner escapes now and again, but no big deal. He had his men take care of that by setting tripwires and traps around for them. Since the prisoners had nowhere else to go, they would be caught eventually, one by one.
Jason was quite proud of all he had accomplished here and in his own twisted world, saw nothing wrong in what he was doing here. Kidnapping mutants? How was that a crime? Why, they weren't even real people and besides, the world was much better off without them anyway. He was doing everyone a favor.
The men Frost used as guards were easy to find, all one had to do was flash a little money and offer them as much beer and as many girls they could stomach, mutant or otherwise. Men such as they were so predictable, Frost had learned. Especially those whose strived to prove they were the so tough when they really were not much more than maladjusted losers looking for cheap thrills. They were not so particular when it came to playtime. To keep them from questioning some of his baser tactics, especially with the kids, Frost told the men they were here in the service of God and that whatever crimes they might commit here would be forgiven. It was too important to remove the mutant menace, he claimed. And most of them believed. The ones that didn't, simply didn't care.
The prisoners here on the island were held in line from fear and Frost's thunderous preaching. He knew that when getting a point across it was all about the presentation and he had a taste for the theatrical. He was soon devising ways to make his preaching seem more credible to his captives, including the use of ritual baptisms under candlelight and chants. He wore colorful robes as he preached and made the kids wear the smocks with the crosses on the front to remind them of their place in this world. He used water and wine in rituals, candles and books, threats of damnation and music. These things had worked better than words alone and when some of the children responded, the sense of power made Frost giddy with delight.
It was true that despite being held in captivity, Frost had actually managed to win over a few of the kids over to his cause. In this area, Little Julie One hand had been his best student. The boy had come to him damaged and weak. Frost had made a man of him as best he could in spite of the boy's youth and turbulent back history. Sadly, even after all this time and special grooming, the boy was still afraid and swamped with guilt over his past. On the one hand it made him easier to control, on the other, it made him weak. If Little Julie One Hand could overcome his emotions, he could make an excellent bodyguard, even if he was a mutant.
Frost was a naturally distrustful guy. How could he not be with his own history of being a con man? But for some reason, he trusted Julie One Hand completely. There was no guile in the boy. The boy always followed orders and was in line with Frost's anti-mutant program, hook, line and sinker. Frost had such grand plans. If he could find more mutants like Julien who so hated themselves and their own kind, maybe he could build an army and exterminate the rest of the mutants in the world. He could be a hero. If the other mutants couldn't toe Frost's line, well they simply weren't worth keeping around. At the very least he would love to sterilize them all, make mutantkind disappear forever.
Not all the kids were in step with Frost's ideals of course. Captivity has a way of building resentments. The fact that Jason had some kids believing and others not created dissension in the ranks, just enough that no full scale mutiny was ever successfully launched. Frost had informants in his faithful that helped give him a head's up when needed.
Frost wasn't stupid. He knew that those kids that simply wouldn't be tamed had to be dealt with quickly and permanently. Frost never dealt them himself directly of course. He was lucky to have come across certain men, who for a fee, would gleefully make them disappear. The graveyard Logan had discovered here was seeing much use. It wasn't like there were any police here, or anyone who would miss these mutant throwaways back home.
He did try to give these kids as many chances to repent of course. Each one cost money to transport and to upkeep. It would be wasteful to simply smoke them at the first sign of trouble. Take this Grace girl for example. She had been here for some time now and was proving to be much too problematic. She wouldn't submit to the men and so he had little use for her. Her time was running out and Frost was making notes, she would have to be eliminated in the morning. He simply couldn't have such deadweight around. He had a business to run.
Of course, Jason, for all of his sense of being in control, had no clue Logan had even been there. The Bouncing Betty exploding was sold off as one of the escapees that remained on the island making a mistake. It wasn't the first time this had happened. With so much blood left behind, whoever it had been could not have survived even though an actual body had never been found. For all of Frost's wisdom, he did not know about the moths and the Honey combo being an alternate route between reality and the pocket worlds. Leroy, in his defense and wisdom, had made sure not to spill that particular secret.
Back in his private cabin here in his paradise, Frost's head snapped up in surprise when he heard an explosion outside. It wasn't here in town, but down the road a bit, towards the flower fields. It was an odd sound and very loud. The kids here were cowed easily by the sight of all the weapons the men here carried and usually bedded down for the night readily enough. He figured it was probably another escape attempt. They'd had so many, though why the kids bothered he couldn't fathom. It wasn't like they had anywhere to go.
What Frost didn't realize of course was that this was no escape attempt. No, his little reign of terror had ended. The X-men had arrived.
(break)
Hours earlier, before Frost had ever heard the noise of their arrival, the X-men prepared to leave for Twilight. Logan walked down the hallway of one of the more classified areas of the Arizona Complex. This was a badge ranked facility and if you didn't have the right badge, you went no farther. Logan, being head of Security for most of this building, had free access to all levels including this one.
This level housed the Complex's jail facilities, but also one of the X-men's most prized possessions – the Danger Room. The Danger Room was a large chamber where they used complex holographic images for the purposes of training. Only the most senior staff were allowed to use it.
Logan had wanted to speak with Scott Summers, Charles' number two man when it came to missions. Scott's wife, Jean, had told him Scott was here. Logan often times enjoyed a quick workout the morning of a planned mission and so he thought Scott might be of the same mind, but when he entered the room, he was surprised to see Scott not engaged in battle, but standing in the middle of a facsimile golf course getting ready to tee off.
Scott Summers was a tall man, almost rigidly straight in posture as if he had spent years in military training. He was getting on in years, forty was a year or two behind him now, but he was still in top form as were all the senior team members still in field work. He seemed normal enough for a mutant, the only giveaway was the strange visor he wore across his eyes. He was an energy producer as Remy was, but in a different form. He didn't charge cards, but he could shoot beams of energy from his eyes. A childhood brain injury had destroyed the on/off switch and so he was forced to wear the visor at all times lest he shoot someone by accident. He had lived with this difficulty for many years and had long made his peace with it. The fact that he wore the visor like one large eye had earned him the codename Cyclops.
Logan crossed his arms and suppressed a laugh at what he was looking at, not wanting to disturb Scott's shot. Logan had always thought golf was a sissy sport so this should not have come as any surprise. He and Scott were very different kinds of men.
Scott took his shot and shamed Logan by getting it on the green in one perfect stroke, showing years of practice. Scott bagged his driver and shouldered the bag, moving on. Without looking back, he asked, "Something I can do for you, Logan?"
Logan smiled and fell into step just behind the man. "Nope. Just wondering if you were ready for this. We're leaving in an hour."
Scott looked back at him with an ironic smile. "For saving lives and rescuing women and children? I'm always ready for it."
"Your team?"
"The Gold Team is yours, just as you requested," Scott replied, unable to keep a hint of disdain out of his voice. Usually it was Scott who did the asking around here and the mission planning, today's adventure was a bit unorthodox. He was above Logan in rank, such as it was here. Really, the only reason Logan was here now was to show that while this was Logan's deal, he was still acknowledging Scott's authority. He wasn't challenging the leadership.
Logan knew better than to try it. The Gold Team was the highest ranked squad in the Complex, it had the most experienced and qualified members for an assault like this. While militaristic in style, the X-men were not comprised of stone cold killers. Their weapons were compassion, integrity and honor, something most of the bad guys knew little about it. The Gold Team was top ranked because they had earned it, they were the most professional and the most reliable. They could go in and achieve their goal with little or no casualties on either side, Logan knew this. It was why he had asked for them, he wanted Frost and Little Julie One Hand taken alive for questioning. Fury's men could take care of the rest of Frost's crew.
The Gold Team was top notch and comprised of Xavier's best – Jean Grey, Scott's telekinetic and telepathic wife; Bobby Drake, codename Iceman; Ororo Munroe, codename Storm, who could control weather; and Kurt Wagner, a teleporter with the codename Nightcrawler. For added measure, some of Logan's security detail members had been tacked on – Max, winged and just as telekinetic as Jean; and Rogue, a flyer who with enhanced strength and invulnerability along with her "touch of death" mutation. Frost wouldn't stand a chance against them.
"Thanks," Logan said to Scott, not wanting to argue about rank here. "So I'll see you outside?"
Scott just smiled. "We'll be there."
Logan nodded and walked out, the politics over with. He was ex-military enough to know these things had to be done, but he was happy enough it was over with. It was time to get his own team packed up and ready. His first stop was the maximum security section where the jail was kept. It was time to pick up Kyle and Sabretooth.
Logan scanned his badge and entered, happy to see Max waiting for him at the watch desk. Max was something of a paradox, he was angelic in face with the feathered wings to match, but he was also a body builder and so had the physique of a pro footballer, something made him a bit fearsome looking instead of saintly or cute.
Logan grinned at him. "You ready for today?"
"Yes, sir!" Max was positively beaming. Being assigned to the Gold Team, even if it was just temporary, was an ego boost and a half. He could hardly contain himself.
"Well, I'm here for the boys. Jordie should be here in a couple minutes to relieve you at the desk. I want you topside with the Gold Team as soon as he comes."
"No problem, sir."
Logan nodded and just from habit checked the watch desk's sign in sheet. There were only three people here in the jail – Kyle, Sabretooth and Skye. Logan squinted as he saw that Skye had had a visitor earlier that morning.
"Warren came in again?" Logan asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
"Yeah, but he only stayed for about ten minutes this time."
Logan grumbled to himself in irritation. Warren Worthington, codename Angel, had full authority to be here, he was in charge of running the entire Arizona Complex. That position even outranked Scott, though it didn't mean all that much. Warren was excluded from fieldwork, the one activity many X-men desired most because it carried the highest prestige. Years ago, Warren had lost his wings trying to save lives alongside the X-men during the Morlock Massacre. He had been outfitted with clever prosthetics, fake wings that Henry had designed using the same advanced Shi'ar technology that was used in the Danger Room. It allowed for some limited flight, but it kept him from doing actual missions and fieldwork. Being a skilled accountant and administrator, Warren still served the mutant community, just in a different form now.
What Logan didn't quite understand was why Warren would even care about Skye at all. Or at least he didn't want to let his mind wander too far in a direction it kept wanting to go – Skye had given two depowered mutants their powers back, but the cost had been so very high, so very high. It wasn't just the fact that Skye demeaned his clients, though that was bad enough. If they were under his power long enough, they could also experience secondary mutation like Kyle had. Kyle's bent legs and extended snout were gifts from Skye, he hadn't been like that the last time he and Logan had met. Secondary mutation wasn't always a good thing, it could sometimes backfire and cause serious damage to the recipient or make them dangerous to others. Because of this Logan had tried to keep Skye's ability to restore mutant powers a secret. The idea of Warren even considering submitting to Skye's sick and twisted mind in exchange for getting his wings back was more than Logan could stand. Nothing was worth what Skye would do to him. Nothing.
Logan was too busy for Warren right now, but he made a mental note of this. He would have to pay Warren a little visit. They were not friendly but Logan was in charge of the jail. He wasn't about to let anything happen to his prisoners – or allow them to harm anyone else.
Logan made his way down the short hallway of cells. He was about to knock on the wall outside of Kyle's cell, but the boy was already waiting for him. He had been given some new clothes for today's outing – a fresh white T-shirt and black pants in exchange for his bright orange coveralls. Logan hadn't wanted to make it too obvious to the others that he was using detainees for this. Even so Kyle looked a little rumpled and awkward. The pants weren't fitted to size and didn't quite suit his poor bent legs. As it was, he was standing hunched over with his arms hanging, like a blonde lion boy stuffed into human clothing.
"You look dashing," Logan teased, trying to set the boy at ease.
"Mrr! Fuck...you!" Kyle replied, but his eyes were merry. They were still friends.
Logan laughed softly and scanned his badge, opening Kyle's cell. Kyle couldn't help but flinch a bit at the sound of it. It wasn't a sound he heard often. Logan ignored it, knowing it was better to save Kyle's face by not mentioning it. Kyle shuffled out into the hallway, his movements clumsy and strange. He wasn't going on all fours like he used to, but he still had difficulty walking upright for long distances.
"Wait here," Logan ordered and Kyle obeyed, staying put.
Logan moved down the hallway, stopping in front of the next cell. Sabretooth was there waiting just as Kyle had been, only he was right in the doorway leaning up against the slotted glass like he owned it, his arms up over his head, resting on his elbows, his face to Logan with a large toothy grin that was anything but pleasant. The big blonde man had fared well these past weeks in spite of being in captivity. He was still huge, large and well muscled, making good use of his limited access to the gym. He was dressed as Kyle was only these clothes fit him quite well, he was the perfect image of clawed mercenary for hire. Or in this case, a bodyguard for Siskans.
"Posing for Guns and Ammo?" Logan teased with less humor than he had with Kyle. He was already wondering if this was a mistake. He didn't like the predatory gleam in the man's eyes.
Sabretooth stepped back from the door so Logan could open it, giving off a rough growl that didn't even resemble the laugh it really was. He was relenting but not submitting to Logan's authority, it wasn't a sign of respect.
Logan opened the door, his eyes hard. "Out in the hall, Creed."
"Name's Kristalay. How many times I gotta say it?"
"At least once more," Logan growled back, showing a bit of fang as he asserted his authority and dominance. These men were all ferals, even Logan though he hadn't gone as far down the path as the others. They all understood ranking and like most pack animals, Logan had to be sure these two knew their place. They were not the ones in charge. "Out in the hall. Now."
Kristalay stepped out, obeying, but there was still defiance in his shoulders, in the way his claws weren't quite sheathed. Logan looked down the hall to the watch desk and was happy to see that Jordie had arrived to relieve Max as promised. Max was delaying there, disobeying Logan's orders to depart immediately. He had been on Logan's security team long enough to sense the rising tension and potential danger in the room now that the ferals were loose. For once Logan didn't care about the disobeyed order, he was happy that Max had lingered to watch his back, the boy was a powerful telekinetic and would be handy if Kristalay tried to pull anything.
At that moment - though Logan wouldn't admit it if asked - he had to at least respect Skye's empathic power. The Siskan had gotten both powerful men to submit to his every whim if the reports were true and Logan had no reason to doubt they were. They had been his obedient slaves in spite of the fact that even the slim boned Kyle could have slashed him to death in seconds if he had ever had the desire. Their minds had been turned, their feral rages brought under control, something no one had ever been able to do before. Some of that empathy would have been good right about now - Logan was already beginning to wonder if he was going to get these guys up to the Dragon 2 without anyone dying on the way.
As if in response to Logan's thoughts about him, Skye's voice came from further down the hall, silky smooth and seductive like a vampire calling out to its prey, or a child molester to an easy mark. "Them's my lions yer takin' without no askin'. Trifle rude, doncha thinks?"
Logan's face hardened at the sound of it, his heart filling with pure hatred. Of all the Siskans Logan disliked here, Skye was the worst of the bunch. Logan would love nothing more than to put the sick fuck down, but Xavier's rules of compassion and sanctity of life, no matter how repugnant, had held his hand. The best he had been able to do was place Skye on the Dangerous Sex Offenders list and detain him here without actually having any charges filed. The detention wasn't so much Logan passing his own moral code down on the Siskan, it was because of the fact that while both Kyle and Kristalay had gained some benefit to being exposed to Skye's powers, the slavery that had come with it hadn't been entirely consensual.
As it was, all the attempts lately to rehabilitate the guy were unsuccessful. Skye wasn't cooperating. He wasn't violent or anything, but he was belligerent and unrepentant. Asher was hoping for some progress when Skye finally got bored or lonely enough. Siskans were social creatures by nature and poor Skye was never permitted out of his cell not even for the gym. That was just fine with Logan. He didn't want anyone near that Siskan monster.
Logan couldn't hide the snarl in his voice as he called back, "They aren't yer lions anymore, freak. They never were. Isn't that right, boys?"
Kristalay just laughed, the sound holding no mercy. He had been the stronger of the pair and had used Skye as much as Skye had used him. He had wanted his powers restored and they had been with little or no fuss. What was a little sexual slavery to him when he had been able to walk away only a short time later even stronger than before? Especially when there was some playful turnabout in this – he was more than happy to see that Skye was now in a cell, trapped and powerless as he had once been. It was the sort of comeuppance Kristalay's cruel heart would find amusing.
Kyle took no such pleasure in any of this. He had been under Skye's sway for much longer and had felt his influence far more deeply. He missed Skye terribly in spite of the Siskan's unpredictable moods and cruelty, there had been a certain pleasure in being owned. It had meant that for once in his life, he had been desired and wanted, even if the circumstances had been horrific. He was quiet now as Logan moved them along, as they walked away from his former Master, but when they left the hallway for the exit, he couldn't help but hesitate and look back.
"You don't need him, boy," Logan growled, disgusted that Kyle would even consider going back to that former life back again. Logan did not submit well to any authority, never mind to a bully like Skye.
Kyle said nothing, knowing Logan would never understand. In Kyle's pathetic life, such as it had been, Skye was the closest thing he had ever known to real love. In between bouts of terrible physical cruelty, there had been moments with Skye that were filled with real human contact and gentleness combined with an intimacy Kyle had never shared with anyone else. Logan couldn't possibly understand the lure of such a thing, or perhaps he simply took his own blessings for granted. He had a wife, he had kids. These things Kyle had never had and probably never would. Logan couldn't quite grasp the idea that while Cody could give Kyle some comfort and company, that poor furry beast couldn't hold a torch to Skye's burning empathic love and rough passion. Just the thought of what he was missing filled Kyle with a profound loneliness and tanked his spirits.
"Keep moving," Logan ordered, tugging Kyle along. He might not be able to sympathize, but that didn't mean he couldn't see its effect. He needed Kyle on his game today. The sooner they left the better.
They left the jail, Max falling into step behind them without having to be asked. Logan had halfway expected Kristalay to make some kind of snarky comment about Skye at Kyle's expense, but the big man was oddly quiet, doing nothing more than what he'd been told. Logan didn't think it was sympathy, Kristalay wasn't capable of such things as far as Logan knew, but Logan wasn't about to comment on it.
The quartet made their way through the Complex and closer to the tarmac where the various teams were getting ready to depart. As Logan neared the stairwell that would take them up and finally outside, he was surprised to see Seth lingering there, obviously waiting for someone. Logan figured the soft spoken Siskan was waiting for Fallen, his Mistress, and so passed him by with just a nod in greeting.
He was surprised when Seth called out to him, "Mr. Logan?"
Logan kept walking up the stairs without looking back. He wanted to get Kyle and Kristalay squared away before they could cause any more trouble. He still did not entirely trust them. "Not now, Seth. I'm kinda busy."
Seth cleared his throat but did not follow. "Mr. Logan. Please."
Logan stopped where he was, sighed softly, and turned around. Seth leaned against the wall of the hallway below, having stepped aside to allow them to pass. His eyes were down, but he held a manilla folder in his hands, clearly something of importance. Seth was quiet, Seth was shy, Seth did not interrupt unless if was really necessary. Since he was the resident computer hacker and gatherer of secret intel, Logan was willing to indulge him now. Seth had proven himself too many times for him not to. "What's up, kid?"
Seth came forward, nervous because of the prisoners, but still unwilling to look the two men in the eye. Kristalay was a huge man and towered over the shy Siskan, smiling somewhat as if delighted by Seth's obvious fear of him. It was the most amusement he'd had in days after being cooped up all the time.
Seth tried not to show how rattled he was but held out the folder to Logan. "You need to read this. Now. Before you go."
Logan recognized the urgency in Seth's voice, even though the command had been modestly stated. He reached out for the folder and as Seth gave it, Kyle made a soft noise of surprise. Seth was a level one X-man and had earned the X-man uniform jacket he had on now, but as a Siskan, he never wore a shirt under it. The jacket had opened and Kyle was given an eyeful of Seth's big green Mark.
"Easy, Kyle," Logan growled as he began read what Seth had given him.
Kyle stood down, but there was an unmistakable hint of anger in his eyes. Skye had been his former Master and had used the Kundatesh empathy and magic to subdue him. Kyle had come to crave it like a drug. After coming here, Kyle had learned that Skye was not unique, Asher was just as powerful and had come to visit him in the jail. Here now was another Siskan that he had never met, one that could possibly provide this same magic as well, though he had a feeling this one was weak, less powerful than Skye and Asher had been. How many of these guys did the X-men have? He resented the idea that the magic was so available and yet kept from him. He wanted it.
"Max?" Logan asked, trying to keep his voice disinterested and neutral though he had an idea of what was going on.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Take the boys to the stop of the stairs and wait there fer me."
"Right," Max answered without hesitation and got the two prisoners moving, happy to head out to the fresh air. It was getting too confining in the stairwell with these dangerous men so close to him.
Logan could feel the relief himself when Max got Kyle and Kristalay out of there. This was going to be so tricky. They had better not screw up and make him look bad, that was for sure.
The file Seth had given him had been important indeed. It was a report Seth had "acquired" from the SHIELD database, telling a bizarre story of how Jason Frost had once been a "person of interest" for SHIELD and had been detained. He had somehow managed to escape, but not before he had taken an item of some importance from SHIELD. It wasn't explicitly stated, but Logan just knew it was the doorkey he had used to take him to Twilight.
Logan snorted in irritation. "Figures. I knew it was too good to be true that Fury would actually give a crap about mutants or Honey. He's no DEA agent. Homeland security takes precedence over everything else. It's Frost's doorkey he really wants. He wants it back."
"Simone will need to be protected, sir," Seth suggested, trying not to sound demanding. Logan outranked him by far. "He is as good as a doorkey himself."
"Don't you worry none about that," Logan assured, smiling at Seth to put him at ease. Though the Siskans here were not biological creatures, they had all come from the same clutch and regarded each other as kin. Seth's concerns for Simone were real. "That's what those two fellas I brought along are for. They might be a bit on the scary side, but they can take a few shots and give back as good as they get. I won't let anything happen to Simone."
Seth nodded his thanks and departed, letting Logan get back to work. It was going to be a busy day for them all.
(break)
Moments earlier and a couple of levels down, Remy woke sluggishly and tapped the alarm off his clock before it could sound off and wake Molly who slept beside him. He wasn't and would never be the early riser Logan was, it just wasn't in his DNA. Of course, his late night could have had something to do with that.
Even half asleep, Remy couldn't help but smile happily at the dim but pleasant memory of how he had taken Molly out dancing last night. It had been an old ritual in the past that they would do this the night before a planned mission. There was always this unspoken tension between them, the understanding that he could go off to save the world and just simply not come home alive. There had been some relief from that tension while he had been on the disabled list, but now that he had been officially reinstated that tension had returned.
Remy rose, trying to do this carefully so as not to disturb his sleeping wife. He stood and stretched, feeling his bones shift and crack a little, a new development. He was growing older whether he wanted to admit it or not. He had laid out his uniform the night before and began to dress, pausing to rub the last sleepies out of his eyes.
Molly rolled over, restless from his movement in spite of his being careful, and watched him dress with half open eyes. He looked thin to her these days, he had lost some weight while on his layoff, but it was times like this when what she saw most were the light lines of all the scars he wore on his body. It was no simple fashion statement that his uniform had so much body armor on it. He had seen his share of rough fighting. Beyond the horrible mauling Sabretooth had given him years ago - a terrible wounding that left five large silver slash marks across his chest - there were a number of smaller less threatening scars on his legs, including a surgical scar from a significant fracture that had required a few screws to the bone. He had healed well, all of his scars were silver and had faded considerably in the time that she had known him, but it was still a clear sign that he had chosen a dangerous vocation.
She was proud of him, that he had chosen to serve mankind in this way. He still called himself a thief but he had committed no such crimes in a long time. No, he had risked life and limb going out into the world saving lives and trying to help people. She thought of him on the same terms as a policeman or a fireman.
Remy looked back at her as he pulled on his pants. "You should be sleepin', chere."
She moved a bit to free her hands and signed back at him, Come back to me.
He smiled at her. It wasn't a command to return to bed, it was a command to come back alive. "Dis ain't nuthin', what we doin' today," he tried to reassure her though he knew himself that things did not always go as planned. He simply didn't want her to worry. "Nuthin's gonna take me away from you. Dey prob'ly ain't goan let me do no more dan fly nohow and even if dey did let me go, time funny dere. One hour 'ere like a whole day dere. Gambit's gonna miss you longer dan you gonna miss 'im," he teased, leaning down to her to give her a deep loving kiss.
She took it but already the worrying was setting in. It was part of her job, being the one who looked after him.
Remy felt it, and offered a vibration of love in return. Molly was so beautiful to him in spite of her more feral attributes. In a strange twist of fate, he had married Sabretooth's daughter, a child the big man had thought he had killed. Sabretooth had succeeded in slashing her throat and stealing her voice, but she had been strong enough to have walked away from it. Molly was nothing like her old man. She was sweet and kind and the most forgiving woman he had ever met. She would have to be to be with him. Remy's dark past was always there, waiting to be dug up again at the worst of times. Molly knew all of his secrets, he hid nothing from her, something he had failed to do with Rogue.
Remy never thought he would be able to pull off marriage, but so far it had been wonderful. Molly was a good match for him, they enjoyed so many similar things, including a deep love of family. Molly's family had been stolen from her by her murderous father and so she was all too eager to rebuild one with this wayward thief. They both knew that twins they had now would not be the last of their children. The more the merrier, especially with Kimble and Aiden so eager to help out. The two Siskans had babysat last night, happy to spend time with the twins themselves.
"I gotta go," Remy said, finally pulling away. "You just know ole One Eye's gonna have a rally speech before we leave. Can't miss dat."
I'll be here, waiting for you, she signed to him, letting him go.
"Don' 'ang round ere. Take de kids to de park, get some fresh air. I'll call you when it's done, don' you worry."
She nodded at him and settled back down under the covers, watching him as he finished dressing. He grabbed his coat and blew her another quick kiss before he left.
He was in a hurry but still took the time to look in on his precious babies. They were close to a year old now and inseparable. They shared a crib even now, snuggled close to one another. He touched them gently, not wanting to wake them. Even so, Sandy, his sweet little daughter, opened one eye and smiled at him. He felt a vibration come from her, simple but oh so pleasant. / Love you, daddy. /
/ Je t'aime, aussi, fille, he returned, his smile huge as his heart swelled with love for her.
He had an advantage over most dads, he could actually tell what his babies were thinking, or at least feeling anyhow. The vibrations had been stronger when they were in the womb and first born. They were fading some now as they grew older, as they became more their own persons. Still, some basic emotions were too powerful for him to not understand completely.
Henry had insisted on testing the twins to see if they were X-gene positive. The big blue doctor did not like surprises so a little advance warning was always helpful. In this case there was nothing to worry about, both twins were X-gene negative. The mild empathy Remy shared with his children came from himself, not from any special ability his offspring had inherited.
Remy left his precious babies behind and got moving. True to his nature he was already late. Punctuality, like getting up early, was never one of his strong points. He made it topside just in time to miss Cyclop's opening remarks. Scott scowled at him, not missing a beat in his speech, but this was nothing new.
Two groups of people were gathered here, each in front of their respective transports. It was still early morning and dark outside but the tarmac was well lit. Remy's flight crew stood in front of the Dragon 2 alongside Logan with his two prisoners. Behind them, a little space away, Rogue stood with Simone who was looking more than a little nervous here. It wasn't just the crowd of people, some of whom he did not know, it was the open space and outside air. He was still used to much smaller rooms. Asher stood alongside him, close by just for comfort.
Fallen and Seth stood proud in front of the Lucky Dragon, their own group alongside. The Gold Team was gathered beside them and Henry and Star as well. Earlier the doctor had loaded up Lucky with as many medical supplies as he thought he might need for this day's adventure. He hoped of course to need none of them but it never hurt to be too careful. Maylee was also there, happy to give a nurse's assist. Max had joined the Gold Team for the day and nothing could hide his smile at being so included.
Remy, not the least bit contrite for being late, made his way to the Dragon 2 and settled in next to Aiden who managed to look sleek and handsome in his new uniform while at the same time showing he was profoundly bored. He was dressed in crisp black jeans and an open black silk shirt under the nice new leather jacket of a level one X-man. He looked as handsome as always, it was just odd to see him in anything other than shorts.
"You are late," Aiden chided playfully with mock disdain as his Captain finally arrived, his arrogant half smile on his lips. "Disz a reg'lar 'abit wit you, eh? Bossz man zere not szo 'appy."
" 'E'll get over it. Dis I miss anyt'ing impo'tant?"
"Not 'less ya likes a bit of droll an' blather," Kimble answered merrily from Remy's other side. Kimble was positively beaming, his shine a brighter green than Remy had ever seen it. It was the uniform, Remy knew this. Kimble, too, had finally earned his jacket just as Seth had. It meant that he was accepted, that he belonged, and that meant so very much to this Siskan. He was dressed as Aiden was, just without the shirt. Like Seth, given the choice, he would much rather do without it.
Remy laughed softly at Kimble's joke and looked back fondly on his own reinstatement yesterday. He had tried to act surprised and all that with the Professor as Logan suggested and felt he had pulled it off. It was long past due as far as he had been concerned, but he didn't complain, he was much too grateful that it had come at all. Charles couldn't possibly know what that meant to him – or maybe, being psychic, he could – it was the final affirmation that he was really okay. The Game was over and was now a nightmare best forgotten. It was time to move on and get back to work.
He was thrilled to be out here today, especially since he had an idea he might get to do more than simply fly for this mission. Being a bit of an action junkie, he couldn't wait to get out there and do some field work for real. He had missed this with all his heart.
Cyclops, now that everyone was finally here, got to the core of his rally speech. He was saying to them with emphasis, "This might be a job like any other we've done, but don't forget who we are. We're the heroes. We're the good guys.
"We are here in the face of tyranny. Jason Frost might think it's perfectly okay to kidnap children and turn them into slaves. He might think it's okay to steal their opportunity to contribute to the next generation by sterilizing them. We don't. And we're going to show him that such behavior is not to be tolerated now or ever.
"These kids that we're going to rescue probably haven't seen much in the way of a kindly face in a while. They will be frightened and scared of us, so put on your best face. Be kind, be polite. Do it for them. They may want to join us someday so let's give them an example worth striving for. Do this with dignity, integrity and honor. Don't forget that SHIELD is watching, too. Let's show them who we are."
Scott next handed a stack of papers to Jean who began passing them out. He continued his speech. "These are mug shots of Jason Frost and an artist's sketch of Little Julie One Hand. It is imperative that these two not be allowed to escape. Both are wanted for questioning.
"The doorkey that Frost is using to move back and forth from here to Twilight must not be allowed to disappear. It needs to be taken by us or destroyed. We don't even trust SHIELD with it so neither should you. These two things are our mission priority, even above rescuing the children. Jason Frost cannot be allowed to escape and do this again.
"Like I said, we're heroes. We're a team but most of all, we're family. Watch out for each other and keep each other safe. Now, let's go show them how the good guys get it done. Dismissed."
There were nods and some clapping, and then the group broke up, heading towards their transports. Remy took a look at the papers Scott had handed out. As Scott had said, there were pictures of Frost and a sketch Little Julie One Hand, or as best of Julie as they could manage. There was no direct frontal face shot as Logan never got a close look at the boy. Also included were a couple of fairly detailed maps of the island depicting the town and where some of the boobie traps might be located. Classic Gold Team efficiency.
Remy wasn't worried. He knew that this really wouldn't be a big deal so long as Logan could keep SHIELD from getting too much in the way. Piece of cake.
Remy stuffed the pictures into his pocket and motioned to his crew. It was time to go.