And so the story begins. Let me know what you think. I hope this is a slightly different take on some of the comic story lines. I'm currently beta-less. I tried to get as many grammar errors as I could, but please excuse the few I'm sure are scattered around. Also I speak zero French or Cajun French. I can muddle my way through Spanish, but not French, so I'm dependent on translators and web dictionaries. If I flub something horribly please let me know. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think! Thanks!
Layla
Her head was pounding and her stomach was threatening to send her running to the bathroom yet again. But she forced herself to stay seated and keep digging through the files. It was all she could do to help the team at the moment. The others were in at least as bad of shape as she was anyway. It was all hands on deck down in the med bay.
Her trembling made the mouse jerk around as she opened the next file, taking in the actual name of the mutant Dr. Nathaniel Essex had labeled as Subject 120. Lorna Dane. She had powers strikingly similar to Magneto. And she'd been the poor girl on the table when Rogue, Logan, and X-23 had taken over Essex's lab. They'd been the distraction while the others focused on getting the prisoners out.
Even before pulling Lorna off the examination table, the whole thing had reminded her of her time with Trask. Those were memories she'd buried and buried well, but seeing Lorna and the others who had been subjected to Essex's experiments had brought every detail back to the front of her mind, and at the same time shown her how much worse her own experience could have been. It was a good thing she had something to work on through the night. She certainly wouldn't be getting any sleep.
Rogue made the appropriate notes in the file she was making before closing Lorna's file and sending it to the Med Bay. Unfortunately Beast, Jean, and the Professor needed the medical data in the files to know how to treat their twenty-five new patients. The twenty-five mutants who had been rescued were in varying states of mental and physical health, and their unpredictable behavior as they were treated made it too dangerous for Rogue to assist. So she was going through all the computers the team had bought back with them, cataloging Essex's cruelties and future plans for each of his victims.
After his capture, Logan had called in a favor with Nick Fury, getting the g-man to take Essex into custody. Maintaining control of the insane and highly dangerous geneticists didn't fall under the purview of the X-men. And while they didn't relish the idea of putting Fury and his S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives in charge, it was infinitely better than trying to handle him themselves.
"30 files down. Too many to go," Rogue muttered aloud, trying to pull her mind away from her memory of Essex's terrifying and entirely too arrogant and inquisitive gaze. After they'd finally taken him down, he'd spent the entire time waiting for Fury's arrival staring intently at her, and it had thoroughly creeped her out. She'd never met a more terrifying human.
She opened the next file, marked Subject 38, and looked up the mutant's name. Remy LeBeau. Distantly she heard the catch in her breathing as her heart stopped and then thundered. Essex had worked on Gambit?
She glanced at the picture stapled to the file. Staring dazedly back at her with glassy eyes was a roughly 16 year old Gambit. Her stomach churning to the point of pain, she read through the file. The beginning of the file established Gambit's reasons for coming to Essex in the doctor's cold and clinical style. Graphic pictures detailed the burns on this hands from where his burgeoning powers had exploded items without his control. Essex noted that Subject 38 and his father had believed the doctor could help the boy, but noted, for psychological purposes, neither had been told just what procedures would actually be performed. Essex was quite interested to see how Gambit would handle the upcoming tests both physically and psychologically. Over all Essex thought Gambit's power, combined with his past history, could prove extremely useful to Essex's future work. He had a focused interest in Gambit's unusual eyes.
Rogue skimmed through the medical jargon, glad she didn't fully understand what the words meant. The pictured they painted was somewhat fuzzy but terrifying enough without any added detail. After several pages of documentation on the performed experiments, Rogue was disturbed to see that the file hadn't ended. Gambit's survival of the procedures that had successfully allowed him to control his powers was eagerly commented upon, as was Essex's receiving of the money from Jean-Luc in payment.
But that hadn't been the extent of Essex involvement in Gambit's life. Essex coldly noted that he had informed Gambit that additional payment was required in the form of service. The file commented that Gambit had not reacted well to the additional cost. Essex had noted that threats to his family had prompted agreement more than threats to Gambit himself.
The remainder of the file noted Gambit's involvement in Essex's collection of new data. It appeared that Essex had found Gambit to be too much of a wild card to use in collecting new mutants to study, regardless of the threats employed. So the insane doctor had put Gambit's thieving skills to good use in acquiring research notes and samples from various sources.
There was a break in the dates between entries. A scanned in, handwritten note scrawled in heavy, and clearly angry, script stated that Gambit had slipped his leash and couldn't be found. Poking around his family had revealed that no one knew where he'd disappeared to and that trying to pressure theTheives Guild hadn't accomplished anything.
Rogue checked the dates. Gambit had dropped off Essex's radar just days before he'd made his first appearance with Magneto. He'd gone from serving one insane man to serving another. But even with all the trouble that he'd caused, Rogue personally figured Magneto had still been a significant step up from Essex. And it explained why Gambit had always laid low between Magneto's campaigns. Something she knew Logan and Scott had been curious about at the time.
The final entry in Gambit's file was dated that morning. Essex had received unconfirmed information that Gambit had been seen around New Orleans again. The last line of the file was a hyperlink of the words Scalphunter and Arclight.
For the first time since she'd started going through his files, Rogue was glad that Essex had meticulously interlinked all his files and recorded every little detail about everything. The hyperlink led her to a series of e-mail exchanges between Essex and someone named Scalphunter. Rogue started to snicker at the mutants chosen nickname, but stopped as the details presented themselves.
Essex had sent a total of $10,000 US to Scalphunter and Arclight via several off shore accounts to cover their expenses. He would pay them $100,000 when they confirmed the death of Gambit by bringing his unique eyes as proof to Essex. He noted a phone number that might or might not belong to the young thief.
With trembling hands Rogue scoured the rest of the e-mail for details. Essex didn't appear to care how they did the actual deed so long as Gambit was killed and his eyes and several blood samples were brought to him. A response message signed by Arclight confirmed receipt of the request and the money. He or she noted the departure time of a flight leaving Paris in two days, and stated that there would be no further contact between the parties until the final delivery was made.
Rogue checked the time stamp. It was only a twelve hours old. Scalphunter and Arclight were still in Paris. They had no idea the X-Men had taken down Essex and his lab. And they had gone dark in order to hunt Gambit. She looked again at the phone number Essex had provided. She couldn't remember if it was the same number he'd given her a few months ago, but it was at least vaguely similar.
With a surreptitious glance around the empty computer lab, she locked the screen and slipped quickly up to her room. Closing the door behind her she dug out the scrap of paper that Gambit had sent her. She folded it in half and put it in her pocket before retracing her steps down to the lower levels.
With a sinking feeling Rogue compared the number in her hand to the number on the screen. 504-555-5967. They were same. Scalphunter and Arclight had Gambit's actual phone number. For a moment she debated just calling him anyway and trying to explain what she'd found. The two assassins hadn't yet left Paris. She could warn him before they were in the air.
She picked up the phone before caution made her hesitate. If it were Logan hunting someone, the first thing he would do would be to find away to monitor the phone line. Any incoming or outgoing calls would be recorded and used to establish contacts and behavioral patterns. If she called Gambit now, she'd be handing Scalphunter and Arclight the X-men on a platter. And she had no idea if their loyalty to Essex was strong enough to avenge his capture or if they were simply mercenaries for hire.
She put the phone down. If she couldn't call him then how could she warn him? She had no other way to contact him. But she couldn't just leave him to be killed. The thought of him having his eyes cut out made her sick. The idea of anyone's eyes being cut out was horrifying, but she had a thing for those eyes in particular, even if she had no intention of ever admitting it.
If she couldn't call him, her only other option was to go to him. Not that she knew where in New Orleans he was. And for all she knew he wasn't even in New Orleans right now. She could get all the way down there and still not be able to find him.
Her mental Julian spoke up. I can find him, the voice whispered. Gambit can' hide from me.
She paused. Julian wasn't one of her more trust worthy psyches, and his hatred of Gambit was something she was well acquainted with.
Why? She asked him. You hate Gambit.
Mental Julian snickered. If anyone gets to kill that salaud s'gonna to be me. Not some goon after his eyes. Creepy devil eyes.
Rogue mentally glared at Julian, but conceded that he might in fact know how she could reach someone who could warn Gambit. It would be making a deal with her own mental devil, but the brief absorption she'd gotten of Gambit had been mostly fragments focused on getting his father out. The touch had been short enough that she hadn't even pulled a coherent mental voice from him.
Not that she was complaining about that. The Cajun was annoying enough in person without having to carry a copy of him around in her mind. But at the moment having a copy of him would have proved useful, and certainly more reliable than trusting Julian to help her.
She glanced at the clock before sliding over to the safe hiding behind the painting in the wall. All members of the senior X-Men team knew that safe held multiple copies of identification and credit cards for each of them. Turning the heavy spin dial in the correct combination of numbers, she opened the safe, jumping at the metal thunk it made when she rotated the handle to the open the door.
She carefully pulled out the stack marked with her name. She glanced at the ages before settling on the passport belonging to Anna Marie James. Anna James was almost 20 and had her own credit card with a reasonably high limit. She carefully placed the others back in the safe and closed the door, twisting the handle back into place and spinning the dial. She replaced the painting, being careful to make sure it was level before she moved back to the computers along the far wall.
She should really go tell the others what she'd found. Scott might not care and would probably say that Gambit could take care of himself. After all the X-Men had more than they could handle already without trying to take on the problems of former Acolytes. And as much as she would rage at Scott for being cold towards a former enemy, Rogue knew he would be right.
They were barely able to handle the mutants they'd rescued and all of students at once. Several of Essex's former patients were disturbed enough to require Logan and Piotr to keep them from hurting themselves and those around them. The professor and Beast were working with them, but it would be a long process before they could be returned to where ever they had been taken from.
Debating with herself about what to do, she pulled up the files Essex had kept on Scalphunter and Arclight. Both were combat experienced former Special Forces officers who had been dishonorably discharged after killing fellow soldiers. Both were wanted by the U.S. military on murder and desertion charges. Definitely not amateurs.
Clearly someone needed to warn Gambit what was coming. And if she couldn't do so by phone without giving both herself and Gambit away, then she'd just have to tell him in person. Pass the message along and nothing more. Fly down, tell him what he needed to know, and come back. She'd be gone only a couple of days at the most. Other than the files, she couldn't really help anyway. And in cases like this it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Her mental Logan, whom she had acquired in the attack on Essex base and while working on control, snorted. "You better at least leave me a message, Stripes. Or I might think the Cajun kidnapped you again, seeing as he's clearly kidnapped yer brain."
She nudged her rolling chair to one of the mansion's general purpose computers, and using some tricks that Kitty had taught he about masking location, booked a red eye flight from New York to New Orleans. The plane left in four hours. She would have to hurry.
She called a cab to pick her up at the closest Park N Ride location. She could leave her motorcycle there with raising too many suspicions. And she had cash hidden in her room to cover the cab fare. She disabled the lock on the screen, bringing Gambit's file back up to the center, displaying Essex notes so who ever came in looking would understand where she'd gone.
She scribbled a note on a sheet of printer paper while she printed Remy's file and the e-mails.
I had to warn him. Be back as soon as I can. My bike is at the Park N Ride.
-R
She set the note on the keyboard, grabbed the printouts and ran to her room.
French words I hopefully used correctly...
salaud - bastard, not as in a child born out of wedlock, but as in pain in the butt, rude, piece of crap
So Rogue is running off to find Remy this time. Won't he be surprised... :-)
