Chapter One- Those Ridiculous Xs
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A chill wind blew, howling between the buildings like a starving animal. The sky was filled with heavy grey clouds, closely hugging the earth, oppressive and almost suffocating. They were tinged with a sickly orange glow, the artificial city lights reflected back at this dusky hour. A single, fat raindrop fell slowly to earth, as if in warning, before the clouds parted and poured their contents on the town below.
People immediately scattered like marbles. Umbrellas popped open, allowing tired commuters to hurry on their way. Those unlucky enough to be caught without huddled together in dejected groups in doorways and under awnings, staring resentfully out at the freezing rain. Others, the more carefree, mostly the youthful, beautiful people out on the town, drunk on alcohol and each other, laughed at the rain, and went dancing in the puddles in their high heels and designer pants.
Remy LeBeau stood staring down at them for a few moments. Despite the late hour and the foul weather, the streets were full. His red on black eyes seemed to burn in the gloom as they flickered quickly over his surroundings. Restaurants spilled warmth and music onto the sidewalk, people stopped to stare with longing into shop windows, lemon yellow taxis and cars vied for space on the busy roads.
The harsh wind tugged his messy auburn bangs every which way, and he adjusted the goggles on his head, trying to secure his wet hair under the strap. Shielding his eyes from the rain, he turned away from the busy street to his left, peering at the building that was only an alley's width away. It was swathed in darkness, and sat roughly four stories lower than his current vantage point. Remy made a quick mental calculation about the angle and positioning of his target.
With a last glance at the street below to check no one would look up, Remy took a deep breath, tensed his muscles, and jumped. He pushed off the parapet, angled slightly downward, nothing between him and the street a hundred feet below. No one looked up. Clearing the low wall easily, he brought his short flight to a halt with a neat tuck and roll on the roof of the British Royal Saving and Loans office building.
The skylight he wanted was the third one on the right from the air conditioning vent. He expertly picked the lock and slid the heavy window out of the way onto the roof. The room below was inky black. The drop to the floor was maybe fifteen feet, perhaps a little more. He landed noiselessly, crouched in the little square of rain that was pouring through the gaping hole in the ceiling, listening to the silence. He counted to three hundred, motionless. Normally, he would move quickly when on a job, trusting his natural abilities, but for safety's sake, he exercised caution. The building was heavily guarded. And the guards were always heavily armed.
Having memorised the plans of the office days before the job, he knew exactly where he was and where he needed to go. Opening the door, he slipped out into the hallway, took a left and then a right. Through a stylish frosted glass and chrome door and down a short flight of stairs. Another long corridor. Seventh door on the left.
Remy found himself in a spacious and expensively furnished office. Shelves lined the walls, heavy with books and folders. A glass desk and black leather chair sat in front of a huge window that overlooked the street below. A Dell computer hummed quietly to itself in the dark. Despite the money that was practically oozing out of the furnishings, this was just the secretary's office.
He went through another door into an adjoining room, this one larger and more expensively decorated than the last. He eased himself into the desk chair and turned on the sleek computer, rummaging idly through the desk draws while he waited for the machine to boot up.
He still wasn't sure why he was doing this. At first he told himself it was for the money. But he had plenty of that. For the fun? Mais sho', that was a part of it. Or maybe it was some warped sense of justice, because he knew that this corporation was dealing in some seriously bad shit. Bah, who was he to talk about justice? The real reason, which he depressingly admitted to himself, was because he was under orders.
Remy ground his teeth thinking about it. When the unidentified number had come up on his cell phone six months earlier, nothing more than a vague curiosity had lead him to answer it. He had heard the Professor's unmistakable stiff upper lip British accent and the next thing he knew, he was suited up, covered in those ridiculous Xs, and getting his ass kicked by the Wolverine in the Danger room.
He was still pissed that after six months, he's only good enough for breaking-and-entering stints that no one else knows about. Sure, he trains with the team, but he's not part of the team. When there are any missions, the others get suited up and shipped off, while he's left to wander the mansions empty hallways…
The computer beeped. Please enter username and password. No problem. Remy inserted a disk into the drive and listened to the machine whir as it processed it. A tiny egg timer appeared and began turning. After about thirsty seconds, the access screen disappeared and the normal screen came up. He must remember to thank the kitty cat for this little miracle of a program.
Fingers flying over the keys, he quickly navigated the system files until he found what he needed. A folder called 'HVM, New York, 2005'. Perfect. There were several other folders labelled in a similar fashion, but for different parts of the world. London, Paris, Madrid, Hong Kong… there seemed to be a HVM list for almost every major city in the world.
He'd been instructed only to obtain a copy of the New York list, but a little more information wouldn't hurt. If you're going to break and enter to steal information, you might as make it worth it. Remy put a blank disk in the drive and highlighted the folders. Just as he was about to click the 'copy files to CD' button, a window appeared.
'Please wait… Files being copied to a remote server.' The pointer turned into an egg timer once again.
'What da hell?' Gambit hissed. He tried to move the mouse but the computer was frozen. Damn. Someone else was downloading his files? The outrage. Well, he'd see what he'd do about that! He jumped up and went back in to the secretary's office, swinging himself into the chair and reviving the sleeping monitor. Hoping against hope, Gambit quickly accessed the system network, locating any operating computers. Ah, here we go. The computer he was using now was showing up as a green square. So was the computer next door. All the other machines were a dormant blue. Except for one. Doubling clicking the icon brought up it's details, including where in the building it was located.
Suddenly with a defeated sounding beep, the computer shut down. The low background hum that the machine produced faded into silence. 'Merde!' Gambit sprung out of the chair and checked the other computer. That too was dead. Nothing happened when he pressed the on button. Maybe the power was out? Carefully shading the bulb with his gloved fingers, he quietly turned on the desk lamp next to the dead machine. The bulb flared with muted brilliance. He quickly snapped it off again.
Not the power, not the lights, just the computers. Someone was messing with the systems. Someone else had broken in to this building and had taken the files he had been assigned to retrieve. That same someone had infected the computers with something that disabled them completely.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck!' Remy swore then clenched his jaw, running his hands through his hair. He'd have to abort the mission. There was nothing he could do.
A sudden montage of images flashed through his head. The professor's stern expression, Ororo's disappointment, Hank's worry, Logan's blatant disbelief. He was here because this was a test, and he'd already failed miserably. He chewed his lip a moment before launching himself out the door, heading for the other computer and the unknown file thief. He wasn't going to miss this opportunity to finally prove himself. He silently told himself that he wasn't going to do anything, as such- he just wanted to have a look around, scope out the situation. This would be a non-confrontational situation.
On the fourth floor, he found two guards, lying supine in the hallway, both unconscious. Their hands and feet were bound, and they had been gagged and blindfolded as well. Looking past them, he noticed a faint light spilling out of an open doorway. Treading silently, as stealthy as a shadow, he moved to the door, and carefully peered around the frame.
It was an office similar to the one he had just left. The green glass reading lamp was shining brightly over the desk that was scattered with a variety of objects; blank cds, an expensive spy camera, lengths of rope, a taser. A USB stick was sticking out of the side of the computer; the message on screen showed that 90 of the files had been transferred.
The room was completely empty of any file thieves. A sudden idea occurred to him- why not just wait for the files to download, then take the USB for himself? It wasn't a bad idea. Double-checking the hallway, ears pricked for the slightest sound, all senses on high alert, he cautiously headed into the office towards the computer.
"Looking for something in particular?" The voice rang out of the shadows and scared Remy half to death. He turned quickly, three cards appearing between his fingers. Pale eyes fairly glowed at him from the darkness on the other side of the office. The headlights from a passing car shone through the window, dancing across the walls and slicing up the darkness, illuminated the figure for a moment; leaning casually against the arm of a leather couch tucked in the corner was a woman dressed in form-fitting black. It looked like a uniform of sorts. Too late he noticed the word 'Hellions' tattooed in dark red thread across the front of her jacket. He jumped back, fell into a fighting stance and charged the cards. She didn't even blink. In a very deliberate gesture she brought her hand up and snapped her fingers into a fist.
For a split second it seemed like the world tipped sideways. His heart was trying to escape out of his mouth one moment, then though his feet the next. A strangled cry rose and died in his throat as an invisible iron fist clamped itself around his body. His muscles shrieked as they were compressed, his bones were cracking under the pressure. He was going to be crushed. He couldn't draw a proper breath. There was a roaring in his ears which pitched and grew like a thunderous tidal wave. His vision flared then dimmed. His whole body was twitching and trembling, every nerve on fire, crying out for release from the pain. It felt like his body was trying to fold in on itself.
Then as quickly as it began, the pressure disappeared. Remy collapsed onto all floors, gasping for breath. Fighting the urge to be violently sick, he lowered himself to lie prostrate on the carpeted floor, his body over come by fine muscle tremors.
A pair of flat black leather boots entered his blurred field of vision. The toe of one boot caught him on the shoulder and roughly pitched him over onto his back where he lay, limp and helpless.
"What did y'do?" Remy managed to choke out. The acrid taste of bile burned in the back of his throat. How had he missed her? The room had been empty, he was sure of it. Disbelief settled heavily in his stomach.
The mysterious assailant crouched down beside him. Her face was covered by a black mask and all he could see was her rosebud mouth and those eerily pale eyes that seemed to reflect the light spilling from the desk lamp. "Nothing serious enough to do any lasting damage. The spasms will pass momentarily. That was an interesting party trick, those cards." With slender hands, she began riffling through his pockets, patting down his legs and chest. "Let's find out who you are then." She moved his duster aside and sprang back in surprise when her eyes fell on the bright yellow X emblazoned on his front.
"You damn X-Men! I should have guessed!" A look of disgust passed over her face. "If I'd have known who you were, I would have killed you."
"So go ahead," Remy said, pleased that he managed to get out the retort without wheezing.
She let out a short, low laugh. "Trust me, you're not worth going to prison over." She moved back to the computer, unhooked the USB stick and looped it over her neck. "Trust old Charlie Xavier to stick his nose in where its not wanted. Emma never could stand his interfering." She swept everything off the desk into a compact backpack. A shiny Colt she re-holstered at her left hip.
Swinging the pack onto her back, she walked to the window, wrenched it open and threw her legs over the sill. Looking back at him with a contemptible sneer, she said, "Tell Xavier that the Hellions are taking care of this. And that Emma sends her regards." And then she slithered out of the window and was gone, disappearing into the inky blackness and the freezing rain.
With a cough and a groan Remy rolled onto his front again and with fingers shaking hard enough to dislodge themselves from the knuckles, fished a slim cell phone from his coat pocket. He pressed the quick dial button. It was answered after one ring.
"Prof, I t'ink we got a major problem."
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Ta da! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new fic. Now, ladies and gents, may I direct your attention to the button at the right hand corner of the screen... go on, review, you know you want to!
Chapter two coming soon!