The military had judged that the mutants were too dangerous to move without properly securing them, and it was taking a great deal of time for the people at the Stokes County Maximum Security Penitentiary to get their technology to the scene of the battle. The four mutants, each with their own duo of Marines guarding them (trio in Fred's case), were corralled outside the truck, sitting on the pavement. And as the military operation buzzed around them, there they remained for the next hour, still in restraints, still under guard, until the twilight began to deepen into night and Beast was convinced that they had been utterly abandoned there.

The students were starting to squirm, Rogue especially. Beast was getting pretty uncomfortable himself. They had fought a nasty battle today, and none of them had escaped without injury - and even though bruises and dented ribs were minor, they still hurt. And there were always complaints of a more normal manner.

"Ah, far be it from me to sound ungrateful," Beast said, twisting around to see Holtz and Fullham, "but will we have a chance to eat, or receive medical attention, or anything else?"

"Yeah," Fred said, perking up at the mention of food. His arms were shackled in front of him, simply because they wouldn't bend far enough behind his back. "When's dinner? And it better not be those MRwhatsits things."

The two lieutenants standing behind Beast exchanged a glance. "None of that is up to us," Fullham said.

Holtz shifted his rifle slightly in his arms. "Our orders are to hold you here. That's it."

"Splendid." Beast sighed and tried to find a more comfortable position on the asphalt.

Silence reigned for several more minutes, until Evan asked, "Hey, Beast, can they really hold us like this?"

Beast sighed again. "I'm not a lawyer, Spyke. I honestly don't know."

"Well, we need a lawyer," Rogue said, giving her guards a dirty look. "Or a rescue. But I guess that ain't gonna happen."

"At this point, I think a rescue would do more harm than good," Beast said. He hoped the warning in his voice was not noticed by the guards - and if they did hear it, that they didn't take it the wrong way. "Enough damage to our cause has been done. We need to cooperate with the authorities now, to prove our trustworthiness, and our innocence."

"I hate Magneto," Rogue grumbled.

" 's not his fault," Blob said, almost absently. "Mystique's why you're here."

Beast frowned. "Mystique?"

Fred laughed, delighted in his victory. "Yeah, she fooled all you guys! She was pretendin' to be the professor. She got you to look for Magneto with your fancy Cerebro, and work with us."

Beast was literally rendered speechless. It seemed incredible, and yet, Professor Xavier had been acting rather out of character lately...

"Oh, man -!" Evan exclaimed, horrified. "No way!"

Blob started laughing again. "Yes way!"

Rogue rolled her eyes and snapped, "And she left you behind, you big dummy."

That quieted Fred immediately. "Oh."

Beast glanced at the Marine guards. They were almost uniformly impassive, but he thought he detected a flicker of curiosity on Holtz' face.

So Mystique was looking for Magneto, and Magneto was... what? Laying a trap for them, rather obviously. Beast was now seeing that Wolverine's disappearance was indeed the work of Magneto, but not in the manner that they had first assumed. Magneto had led Logan into Trask's trap, just as he had led the X-Men and the Brotherhood into the Sentinel's abode. But for what purpose? The battle as a "coming-out" party had been a catastrophe; anti-mutant hysteria was already looming. Unless... It had not ended as planned. But what could have disrupted the best-laid plans of the master of magnetism?

"Scarlet Witch," he said, thinking out loud. It was a bad habit, and he winced as soon as the name had left his mouth: the flicker of curiosity on Holtz' face returned in force. At least he hadn't said "Wanda Maximoff."

The three teens looked at each other, and then back at Beast. Evan asked, "What about her?"

Beast shook his head. "We'll talk later."

A noise overhead caught his attention, and he looked upwards to see a helicopter descending. The wind from the blades started slinging dust and bits of broken concrete their way; with their hands cuffed, they couldn't shield their eyes. Beast squinted, but did not avert his face. He wanted to see what was going on. He had a feeling it wasn't good.

The helicopter - it had no doors, so it was military - landed a dozen yards away. Two figures quickly disembarked and hurried away from the aircraft. They were met by the same major who had so diplomatically confronted Trask earlier.

"Ma'am, sir, the prisoners are right over here," the major yelled over the noise of the blades, and started leading the two newcomers toward the truck. The trio stopped in front of him just as the helicopter lifted off again; Holtz and Fullham, along with the other guards, snapped to attention.

"Dr. McCoy, I presume," the unknown man said. Beast could see the glint of gold aviators' wings on his chest, and a commander's insignia; he was wearing white and was clearly Navy. The woman, who was wearing Marine khakis and a colonel's silver oak leaves, stayed slightly behind him. "I'm Commander Rabb, and this is Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie."